Trudging through the muck and stuck now: boots left behind, and feet can turn raw for this personal need. Need for that rush. Every single event on stage, through sound of speakers with wires and giving that live acoustic echo. The experience is overwhelming and all that is stable is a business card-sized program. The people surrounding the area are the same in silence, but different in nod. It feels like fun if fact was alive and living was intensely accentuated through performance. And performance of something so fucking familiar, but very distant, still sustaining that live crunch. Reeling through it all, bodies sway as though they’re damp and washing cars, shining from the sound that provides warmth through the cracks. There is where it’s found. Again in that sound. Perpetuating something more than just paper/coin. It’s brilliant yet sullen, only polished when necessary, and brings life to faces in strife. On rings on bands on wrapping around ears, hanging while poised. It’s jewelry of the mind. Shuffled through ages of mistake and “Nah, I ain’t into it that much, yo.” But at that moment, when it’s found and has dusted away the webs in your head, you’ve found what you’re looking for: sheer sound surrounding sifted sight shining through.