In chaos, that's where...

He's on the stage

and they can feel the magic. 
His silhouette against the
frisky tight arc of lights
in the centre of his musical space
dimmed by the smoky-colored
of passionate breaths. 

A cacophony of defeaning sounds break off:
stereo living in their ears, 
the impassioned gusto of instrumentals
tolerating their temporary incapability,
the jarring voices of people,
the commotion of thoughts in their head 

(They've consistently been forcing back into some semblance of order)

But they have always been there-- (comfortably or maybe because they have already used with the feeling)
In chaos, that's where,
where the smell of sweats and collective urban gasps of depressed people are suspended in the air. 
The melody of his voice echoes their experiences:
the brokenness, 
confinement, 
and mental exhaustion. 
And when he touches the air and looks somewhere in between the depth of the void and the ocean of people's burden-filled eyes, 
they feel

escaped. 

He whispers his song;

they breathe their agony. 

This is the art of solitude.

They are lost in the crowd... not apart but individually. 
They defy the world.
They fixate somewhere in the space. 
Their hearts skip along with the pulsing beat of the stereo.

He bangs his head and they dance theirs spritely. 
He jumps higher, and their spirits lifted. 
The music reaches the deafening crescendo, and their lungs encumbered with euphoria. 
The lights blink, and their weightless eyes get blinded momentarily. 
That moment felt like in a thin line, they were in between emptiness and depth. 

As if they were living up two different worlds at the same time-- 

in the slap of reality and in the kicked-in of fantasy.

08|07|19

PS: One OK Rock, especially Taka, I am a fan. 

See you soon.