We need glitter bombs and hips

#5: I swear on this, no matter how extensive my current musical elitism:

I saw ‘NSync in concert when I was 15, and when the lighting went crazy, and the girlish pubescence swelled into a frenzy, and JC Chasez (the specter of my wet dreams) threw a janky towel in my direction, I swear–that I had peaked. My heart knew it. My body buzzed with approval.

For a few seconds, I had a lived a fulfilled life.

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And later, if a person is wrong about that feeling, after they’ve witnessed the scope of a messy, unpredictable, human existence, I wouldn’t sweat it. Our instinct shouldn’t be to diminish the past in the presence of knowledge or foresight.

One should feel so sure about a moment at least once.

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