i'm not ravingi'm not raving(dance- glue)i despise the freely movementsabout the masses of clique-persons.golden, neon blurbs of vivid lightspinning and weaving a tangibleweb of dispersive eyecandy.thick, repeating bass beatsslurred with screaming sirens.the stench of abusing so fuming,matching the inebriate facesbouncing about surrounding me.lifelessness dancing to music.i'm on the floor whilst thosearound are groundless, fornicatingbetween the meds and the music.look up and see the post-culturejunkies floating further away.field of people swirling intohuge purple-orange clouds ofsweat, pulsing into harmony,twirli
Sweet.