#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, when the girlish pubescence swelled into a frenzy, when JC Chasez (the specter of my wet dreams) threw a janky sweat-laden towel in my direction, Iswear this on my tiny African mother: I peaked. My heart felt it. My body buzzed with approval.
For a few seconds, I had a lived a full life.
And later, if a person is wrong about that pure feeling, especially after witnessing the scope of a messy, unpredictable human existence, I wouldn’t sweat too much. We should first instinct. We shouldn’t diminish the past in the presence of knowledge or foresight.
One should feel so sure about a moment at least once.
In those brief sweet moments, you lean and hunch your shoulders; your arms cross. Your body is so beautifully overwhelmed with life, that it becomes concave. As if its natural response is to contain the expulsion. But why?