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Twisted But Precious: The Morning After the Sunrise Dance
Date: 10/30/2014, Categories: Love Stories, Author: flytoomuch, Rating: , Source: LushStories
feel the buzz in the camp rising. In their little group they all got ready. They sat around in a circle and smoked a joint passing it from one person to the other. A second joint appeared and then a third. A bottle of whisky popped out of nowhere and shots were done. John relaxed. Life was good. He was alone, but that was okay. His future was a blank white page. He felt free. The group all made their way over to the dance site. Coloured glow-stick light bands were being handed out willy-nilly. People were festooned in glowing colours with glow-stick bands wrapped around their necks, on their wrists, on their ankles and anywhere a glow-stick light band could seemingly be affixed. Girls stuck them in their hair. Booze was being handed out freely and laughter was rising into the black night. Joints were being passed around. People everywhere were laughing and dancing. Whirly gigs were being shot into the sky using elastic bands. They would fly up to light up with LED bravado. Hundreds of red, yellow and green lights zapped up a hundred feet and slowly descended in a cascade of sky-dripping colours as crazed revellers began getting into the mood. Crazies could be heard howling at the moon like a wolf or occasionally hooting like a Loon. Soon John’s group were all separated. John had no idea where he was or who he was dancing with. He danced and danced and the women he danced with seemed to change freely. Some pressed their bodies into him and others danced wildly at a distance. ... John drew on one joint after another. His throat got raspy and sore from the acidic smoke. After the sunset it was all black on the horizon with only the glowing artificial light at the dance to illuminate the sky. The music was insane as the DJ drove the crowd to new heights of insanity. This music wasn’t about escapism it was about life. Thrusting rave breakouts were interspersed with spindly brittle psychedelic sections and then it would segue into tender positive patches. Nothing came across as either forced or dilettantish; this was genuine and thoughtful stuff. This guy was talented. John was swept up along with thousands of others in the crowd by the vulnerable vocals and the building persuasive dance beats that seemed to hit the crowd’s sweet spot. More than anything the DJ seemed to convey a sense of humility and inclusiveness to his audience. They were all part of something, whatever it might be. “What” exactly they were part of didn’t matter. They were all together. Meanwhile the wide-eyed crazed festivalgoers fought for a glimpse of where all the insanity was originating from. Dressed as a tall urban cowboy and stomping around in cowboy boots John was a fairly conspicuous presence. He was clustered with a group of party people close to the stage when the White Rabbit Girl suddenly appeared in front of him. She wore a saucy grin. John looked to each side wondering if she were actually dancing with him. She looked him in the eyes and with a calibrated and deliberate ...