(It feels overly American to start writing something with a single word that's as annoying as "like", but I don't know how else to start writing this thing.)
Like.
Music is more than incredibly important to me. Music is the only non-wife/kids thing I look forward to wholeheartedly. If I had to choose between my sight and my hearing, I'd thank you for blinding me.
Being in the room with music is incredibly important to me. Whether it's being played, being spun, or being created directly the fuck in front of me, music is its own reward.
I exhaustedly cherish and religiously genuflect at the mere thought of listening to music, but being there when it's unfolding live in front of me is it. Live music, when it's in front of you, is the ultimate exchange of energy and its inspiring capabilities are fucking countless.
I look forward to listening to music in my car every day, but I look forward to live music for weeks, sometimes fucking months at a time. The entire process of attending a show is my favorite shit.
I go to shows solo sometimes because it's all I need. I have friends who roll solo to concerts who I've seen while also out solo at a concert.
While I'm just some asshole in suburban Chicago watching the news and crying every few minutes, and I'm nothing to nobody but my wife and kids, and can't seem to assist Paris in any way besides good vibe generating, I'm really fucking hurting imagining my favorite place on earth being so fucking terrifying.
I mean.
Shows, bro.
Shows are where we go to share energy. Shows are where we go to yell. Shows are where we go to dance. Shows are where we go to just fucking hell yeah the fuck out for two to four hours. Shows are where we test our bladders. Shows are the things we look forward to months prior, the shit we rank years later, and for some of us, shows are our only connection with the intangible shit you can't explain without talking with your hands and speaking entire paragraphs with single words.
"Dude," accompanied by the hands holding an invisible globe in front of your face.
"Bro," alongside a single exasperated hand palmed to your forehead.
The fact that something so fucking complicated and practiced as music can be explained to friends with such simplicity is hilarious.
But "dude".
Like.
I fucking hurt that friends I have yet to see a show alongside just experienced such terror inside an environment that's always felt so safe to me. The juxtaposition of concert and terror attack fucking offends me on your behalf, and I'm hurting to find a way to somehow pay my respects to our similar passion in attending amazingly loud and enjoyable demonstrations of fucking face melting.
I don't know how to memorialize the people that died a few hours ago seeing a band I fucking love in a city I've always dreamed of visiting.
I don't even know how the fuck I could ever process such an unbelievably terrifying experience.
Live music is where us cool kids escape the drama of the real world and the real world just barged in and took a depressingly huge number of people just like us with it.
What the fuck do we do here? What the fuck are we supposed to learn from this?
I am hopeless in the loss of fellow heads I might've never stood next to, never screamed in celebration among, never said excuse me to while weaseling my way in front of them for a better look.
I'm also selfishly freaked out about that image never leaving my idea of casually going to a concert.
But fuck that.
I need to get out to a show as soon as possible. For some reason I feel like the fucking music needs me more than I need it.
Fuck it. Alls I know is that I don't fucking know. klsdjfalksjdf;alsjkf a;slkjfa;slkdfj as;lkdfj as;lkdfj asdl;kfj asd;lkfj as;lkfjas