This one knows, she comes and goes...

There are only two times where I can completely let go of myself and feel I am entirely whole, perfect, and beautiful, and close to whatever there is that is divine in this world. The first is in the midst of really good, really intense, really mind-blowing sex with someone who has won his way into my heart and my soul.

The second is when I'm surrounded by loud, swirling waves of music--music that is so perfect and all-encompassing that it makes my whole essence rise up out of me, taking me higher somehow, and each perfect riff, each flawless break, each exquisite lyric, just pours more and more joy into me and my body can do nothing but move, and I dance until exhaustion. And then past it. I never want to stop.

During those moments, I entirely lose awareness of what's around me--and yet I'm also hyper aware of every sensation lifting me higher and higher...That may sound contradictory, but that's how it is.

At these times, I no longer care about anything except connecting to the sheer perfection of sensation, and that sheer perfection, pulled into me, makes me feel perfect, holy, and unbreakable. I don't care who's watching me, I don't care how I look, I don't care what is going to happen later on--I'm just there, and nothing else matters.

I wish I could be there all the time. It's a state of almost religious ecstasy. Or actually, religious ecstasy seems mundane compared to it. It's a state beyond even that--ecstasy with no definition, no guidelines, no bounds. If I could escape into it forever, I happily would.

It's quarter to three in the morning, and I've just gotten home from hearing the most marvelous live band. They were so good I couldn't stop smiling. They were so good I wanted someone to rub against. They were so good that I wanted to grab the stranger next to me and kiss him passionately, just to share with him how perfect it all was. They were so good I got there.

My ears are buzzing. My head's a little dizzy. My right hand is stamped. And I don't. Want. To. Come. Down.

Please, please, just keep me there just a little bit longer...


(photo credit: charlatans by St Steve)