Elbows bent onto the stage, the soft cushion of my belly against the hard edge, I’m moving to the music, along with everyone else who has been quick enough to have secured a space this close. Occasionally, someone slides up, past me and onto the stage to dive into the mass of people to crowd surf. There’s also the random wave that rushes into me from the mosh pit next to us. I’m too close to the speakers to hear the lyrics of the song but it doesn’t matter. The sound and the energy is riveting.
My mind and body are lit up. I’m young again.
I consider crowd surfing or joining the mosh pit. Either inertia or fear of injury keep me from both activities. Or, maybe it’s just that I’m content where I am.