I ordered house made penne with prawns in a lobster cream sauce and a small margherita pizza and a Warsteiner. Half-way through the beer I started to feel my guts, shooting - like all that I was going to be was coming to life. It would have happened without the drugs, sure...I just don't know to what extent, and I don't know how exhaustion would have played its hand. The night was too big to leave things up to chance so I didn't. By the time the food came, I was rolling and starving and all I wanted to do was devour it so I did. Incredible. One of the better meals I have ever had - absolute comfort. I was reading the map and memorizing the subways and squares and parks like a machine and the waitresses were softening to me because I am who I am. I started to ask them how to say things in German, maybe telling them I loved them for teaching me, for bringing me along, for giving me such incredible hospitality while all the while thinking I'm on drugs I'm on drugs I'm on drugs. They sat down at my table and we talked because it was slow and because I am who I am and I promised them I would return. Of course I would return. Of course I would never forget them. Of course. The more oncoming of the two told me I could walk to the O2 and that made me very excited, crossing town in 20 minutes while relying entirely on myself and my feet and my toes, knees, heart, eyes...my brewing fucking insanity.
The streets were cold. LA has thinned me in too many ways. My guts were pumping and I was thinking about all the small things it took to land me in this town - alarms to shuttles to flights to flights to hotels to maps to millions of things I wasn't even capable to comprehend. It was too much and there was still so much that would need to happen - like getting a ticket to the show I flew in to see. When I got there around 7, it happened quick. Face value from will call, floor - exactly and all I was looking for - something like 50 Euros. I told the will call girl that I loved her. She blushed.
I was standing about 4 rows from the gates when they, the band, came on. It's been a while since I took something in from the floor. The people surrounding were all German, everyone, naturally and surprisingly, and one out of every 3 was wearing a Muse T-shirt. Amazing! Concert T's and they didn't give a fuck about it or to know any better. Exactly where I wanted to be...right in the shit.
I can't really say what it was like. We all have a form of art that for a lack of better words simply speaks to us. These guys so simply speak to me...but with blazing force. The motherfuckers in the crowd surrounding me were crazy and rabid and I left the show wearing a jacket soaked with sweat. It was exactly what I came to see, exactly what I came to feel -- everything and then the drop in Cydonia to close. Every human should experience a moment like the one I caught before they die. I'd speak of it, but to speak of magic is to kill it. I'm certainly not here to do that.
