my first hardcore show: an experience not easily forgotten.

I'm not sure what classification of music this fell under, but it induced moshing, head-banging, punching, kicking, jumping into the crowd, etc. During the second band I went down into the crowd and lost myself in the sea of sweaty bodies. The wave of people would surge against me, and when it subsided I pushed back. At one time I was getting pushed around like a pinball. When I would hit a person I would instantly get pushed into another. What fun. I felt like the kid who runs around for absolutely no reason, just to exaust themselves. After returning to my place beside my brother, my head hurt and I was dehydrated.

Why would something like this be fun? Why would something that causes you to get a headache make you want to do it again? I didn't try to answer this question, but just decided to accept the fact that I was pushing and shoving and head-banging and jumping and moshing and acting like a complete idiot, and I had a great time.

We went to a 7-eleven that my brother had named the Alamo. It had a big roof, but I didn't find anything that even remotely looked Mexican. I got a hotdog, big gulp and bag of chips for $2.67.

What a deal.

Jason and the people he came down with headed back to Gainesville. I heard them talk about how much sleep they were going to get on the account of getting home at about 3:30 in the morning and starting work a few hours later. I shouldn't have mentioned the fact that I was sleeping in, and chilling at home the whole next day. I'm ready to get back to Gainesville, but I don't mind staying around here a few more days.

It's now 1:43am, and I am ready to rock (or ready for bed).

Rock on.