65 lines
3.7 KiB
Plaintext
65 lines
3.7 KiB
Plaintext
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$$$$
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$$$$T""P$$$ba, ,gd&P""T&bg. ,gd&P""T&bg.
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ggggggggggg $$$$ $$$$$b d$$$$ $$$$b d$$$$ $$$$$b ggggggggggg
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""""""""""" $$$$ $$$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$ $$$$$bxxP&$$&P """""""""""
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$$$$ $$$$$$ T$$$$ $$$$P T$$$$
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$$$"""""" " """" $$$$$$ "T&$bxxd$&P" "T&$bxx$$$$$' " """"""$$$
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""" """""" """
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ggg "Running Again" ggg
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$$$ by - Mutter $$$
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$$$ $$$
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$$$ [ HOE E-Zine #996 -- 12/25/99 -- http://www.hoe.nu ] .,$$$
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`"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'
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"When was the last time you ran?"
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I mean really sprinted for no good reason.
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I mean, damn, did you have to think about that? That's fucking
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sad. When I was young I used to run all the time. Now I have to think
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to remember the last time I ran. There's something disturbing about
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that.
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No one was chasing me then.
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No one is chasing me now.
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Youth should be about activity running energy celebration of
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movement and life and god bless my legs and my arms and my ability to do
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nothing effectively.
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Youth is where I find myself now--in its most unrestrained,
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chaotic, natural sense. Movement urged forward, pushed ahead by the blur
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of the drum sticks, the quick fingering of the guitarist and the
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screeching wailing amplified voice of the singer who's begging us to
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move (for the love of all that is sacred, Move!).
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to try to break the empty space around us. To fucking take part
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and everyone's doing their thing and even the guy with his feet in the
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air understands as his head hits the ground.
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we all understand; understand that we don't understand and that
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"understanding" is probably highly overrated anyway.
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Thumppp thum thump the bass line lays the mood and a short girl
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starts punching me in the back. I realize she's life-incarnate in a tight
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shirt and too much makeup and give her a good push back into the crowd.
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Unpredictable chaos. For it's nature. Losing yourself in this
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chaos means a release of everything safe. Cause life isn't safe and if
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you're safe you're living in death cause death has no risk, only life,
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fucking coward.
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Accelerate. This is truly ballet. A dance that can't be
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choreographed. One of the dancers punches me in the testicles. I play
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my part and blindly swing at his head. Suddenly the crowd starts to
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pacify. The band gets ready and you can feel the excitement building,
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building. The guy in front of me starts to rock violently. He has it.
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He really has it and I watch him, fascinated as he grabs hold of it and
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goes with it. Go, man, go.
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Building building... it's as if the world is about to end. This
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is my church. This is my cathartic, religious experience. My celebration
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of the nature of things. My vehicle is the music and my priests and
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priestesses come at me with swinging arms and a rhythm. Here it comes.
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Mindless screams -- Hallelujah! The band's about to bring it. The crowd
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really feels it coming now. Bring it. Time works perfectly here.
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Bright flash.
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clickBANG! The band explodes like a shotgun and so does the
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crowd. No one's feet touch the ground and it occurs to me that
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everything is apeshit. Everyone loses themselves and gets it (just for a
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second) as experience is at its peak.
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Kicking, screaming, flailing arms, hair and sweat. Youth.
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[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #996, BY MUTTER - 12/25/99 ]
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