Experiencing extacy is like floating in a dream, unaware of what reality is. Its pulsating beats, its friendly like atmosphere, its common name is rave. looking at the bouncing people dancing or should i say bouncing has untold energy but just for that buildup of the song, then more times than not...the song lets ya down and your left standing there looking like an idiot. I laugh at those macho people that can give life to a beat that is dead, and come up with something that no one else has done. its not a bad laugh, just a laugh of pure extacy and a short eight hour thrill...because you try to make the most of it till next weekend. Then its the walk around to check everybody out and size everybody up. Usually its walking to find a spot where you can sit thats not too dirty or mingled in a cuddle puddle. Meeting friends that parents asked how you met, or you wonder how there body is keeping them alive, its all apart of the mysterious rave scene...at least it sounds mysterious with raver names...ohhhh and gliter you have to have tons of gliter because the sparkles make all the difference. but the best part about the whole rave scene...is all of these things put together and at the end of the night when cracked out takes on another meaning you look at yourself in the mirror and think i look like shit. outside parties its the dirt, inside parties its the smell of stale cigarettes and vicks vap 'o rub. and just crash out till the next night then call your friends and compare stories of a night thats no longer there and a roll that you'll forget the next time.



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