have a read through this, im really interested to see what ppl think of it
The Raver that I am...
Posted: 01/08/2003 4:51am
Heart pumping out energy and the force of hard trance is dwelling inside your very own soul. It is fate that led you here, your friends, and companions. This is what brought you together - the music, the people and the feeling
You roll up in your ride, people see you, people that you don't know, and the people you see quite often. The moment you turn your car off, you can feel the bass of what's to come trembling on the concrete beneath you. Looking over at your COM padre's, they are already checking if their ready and equipped for the long night ahead. One jumps, the other jumps, and another. You look on as they all jump, and then you jump. Bottle of water in hand, you take a sip to weaken the taste, throw in a piece of Extra to make things all better, making sure that jaw of yours gets a working. Walking towards the front door, the tank of a man asks for your ID card - usually a driver's license. He looks at it, looks up at you, checks once again, and lets you through! You're in!!
Waiting for the others to pass the identification process, you look around to see fluorescent colours of green, blue, pink and yellow. Streamers swing from one corner of the ceiling to another. Feeling good about your self? Each step you take the bass keeps getting harder and harder, as if the mother of all earthquakes had just erupted on the floor beneath you. You arrive to a door way leading to a bar in front of you, the bar chick stares, you look over and she continues to pour drinks for the people that she is serving. Looking around, you see the raver community bustle, moving from side to side, shuffling their worn feet to the sounds of hard-style Trance.
Fluorescent belts and reflective insignias make you more of a star, as long as you can prove yourself on the dance floor. The harder and faster you rock, the more energy you pour into your moves and the more co-ordination you have as a raver, the more of a social life you will have. Later on as the night progresses, you start feeling a little less for wear, you reach into your pocket, reaching inside deeper and deeper, till you find a bag, with a pill inside it. Looking around to see if any under cover police are around, you slowly make your way to the toilet. Walking in to find yourself waiting in a queue like everyone else. One raver walks out, taking a sip of his bottled water that he just filled up from the tap. You move up in the queue, finally it's your turn, close the door behind you, you can hear people walking in and out of the toilet, bass booms, bass weakens. Open your little bag of goodies, taking out the pill that's waiting to be consumed. You take half, and save the other for later on. Walk out and sip your bottled water. Door swings open, lights and lasers flash before your eyes, the beat is making its way inside your body again.
20 minutes, 40 minutes passes, you can feel it kick in. Bang it hits you, just a bit harder this time, you feel your feet shuffling, moving your body to the beat, banging. Faster and faster your heart thuds inside your chest, harder the trance tells you to go. Sweat pours from your pimple ridden forehead, you jump and spin, your mind doesn't care at all at this point. You are in a zone, tunnel vision, as nothing can stop you. A tap on the shoulder ruins your winning streak with the sound, a voice with no face shouts in your ear, "Can you get any pills?" and you return fire, "NO!!" and move away towards the light. Again, another person ruins your frame of mind, the answer is "NO!!!"
A good 2 hours passes, you slow down and take a breather, walking out of the club, you reach in to your overgrown pockets, and search for your ultra small mobile phone, and check the time, daylight will be here soon. You look up into the sky to see the last of the falling stars disintegrate into the atmosphere. You find your ride, open the door, sit your ass down and shut the door. You stop and pause, just a whining sound is pitching in your ear. Wind the window down for air. As cool as it maybe, it should suffice. You can't have everything. Sitting there and you start to think, the drug makes you think, it makes you think many things. Did you look good tonight? Were there people in that place that didn't like me? Are my friends okay? It's free time on your mobile, you call one mate just to make sure she's okay and you ask to see if the others are okay too. Everything's good, but why do you feel so bad? You start to think again. Wondering if this I just the drug doing it, or you are really paranoid. Another hour passes, and you are still in the same place, haven't moved an inch, your phone rings, mates telling you that they are coming down to chill with you. All of them get inside, and by the time you all feel like rocking again, you find yourself driving home. Two of your friends decide to fall asleep, one keeps you company on the ride home, trying to put one sentence together gives the impression that you've been through speech therapy. No one understands you, and all you hear from the person sitting next to you is a bunch mixed up sounds and gargles. You look at your speedometer and see that you are doing the speed limit. But why does it feel so slow? You keep a steady pace, feeling that your body is now ready to go into REM mode. You drop 2 off, and the last. The worst part of your journey is yet to come - the lonely drive home. Sitting there hearing your engine revving, you try hard to find the friction point and the only thing that's keeping you up is changing gears. Body shutting down - you arrive at your final destination - Home.
Making your way inside, you hope no one hears your footsteps. Close the door behind you, the comfort of your own space. This is your palace, your sanctuary, your room. Taking off the clothes that were once clean and sparkling, are now draped with fragments of the air from the club from whence you came. You look and feel your hands - filthy. Driver's license, cash, and recovery passes get thrown on the bedside table. Reach into the other pocket to find that little bag with that half devoured pill. You stare at it, mind opens up to thought - "I completely forgot about you."
You retire, warm, safe and alive. This is the Raver that I am...
The Raver that I am...
Posted: 01/08/2003 4:51am
Heart pumping out energy and the force of hard trance is dwelling inside your very own soul. It is fate that led you here, your friends, and companions. This is what brought you together - the music, the people and the feeling
You roll up in your ride, people see you, people that you don't know, and the people you see quite often. The moment you turn your car off, you can feel the bass of what's to come trembling on the concrete beneath you. Looking over at your COM padre's, they are already checking if their ready and equipped for the long night ahead. One jumps, the other jumps, and another. You look on as they all jump, and then you jump. Bottle of water in hand, you take a sip to weaken the taste, throw in a piece of Extra to make things all better, making sure that jaw of yours gets a working. Walking towards the front door, the tank of a man asks for your ID card - usually a driver's license. He looks at it, looks up at you, checks once again, and lets you through! You're in!!
Waiting for the others to pass the identification process, you look around to see fluorescent colours of green, blue, pink and yellow. Streamers swing from one corner of the ceiling to another. Feeling good about your self? Each step you take the bass keeps getting harder and harder, as if the mother of all earthquakes had just erupted on the floor beneath you. You arrive to a door way leading to a bar in front of you, the bar chick stares, you look over and she continues to pour drinks for the people that she is serving. Looking around, you see the raver community bustle, moving from side to side, shuffling their worn feet to the sounds of hard-style Trance.
Fluorescent belts and reflective insignias make you more of a star, as long as you can prove yourself on the dance floor. The harder and faster you rock, the more energy you pour into your moves and the more co-ordination you have as a raver, the more of a social life you will have. Later on as the night progresses, you start feeling a little less for wear, you reach into your pocket, reaching inside deeper and deeper, till you find a bag, with a pill inside it. Looking around to see if any under cover police are around, you slowly make your way to the toilet. Walking in to find yourself waiting in a queue like everyone else. One raver walks out, taking a sip of his bottled water that he just filled up from the tap. You move up in the queue, finally it's your turn, close the door behind you, you can hear people walking in and out of the toilet, bass booms, bass weakens. Open your little bag of goodies, taking out the pill that's waiting to be consumed. You take half, and save the other for later on. Walk out and sip your bottled water. Door swings open, lights and lasers flash before your eyes, the beat is making its way inside your body again.
20 minutes, 40 minutes passes, you can feel it kick in. Bang it hits you, just a bit harder this time, you feel your feet shuffling, moving your body to the beat, banging. Faster and faster your heart thuds inside your chest, harder the trance tells you to go. Sweat pours from your pimple ridden forehead, you jump and spin, your mind doesn't care at all at this point. You are in a zone, tunnel vision, as nothing can stop you. A tap on the shoulder ruins your winning streak with the sound, a voice with no face shouts in your ear, "Can you get any pills?" and you return fire, "NO!!" and move away towards the light. Again, another person ruins your frame of mind, the answer is "NO!!!"
A good 2 hours passes, you slow down and take a breather, walking out of the club, you reach in to your overgrown pockets, and search for your ultra small mobile phone, and check the time, daylight will be here soon. You look up into the sky to see the last of the falling stars disintegrate into the atmosphere. You find your ride, open the door, sit your ass down and shut the door. You stop and pause, just a whining sound is pitching in your ear. Wind the window down for air. As cool as it maybe, it should suffice. You can't have everything. Sitting there and you start to think, the drug makes you think, it makes you think many things. Did you look good tonight? Were there people in that place that didn't like me? Are my friends okay? It's free time on your mobile, you call one mate just to make sure she's okay and you ask to see if the others are okay too. Everything's good, but why do you feel so bad? You start to think again. Wondering if this I just the drug doing it, or you are really paranoid. Another hour passes, and you are still in the same place, haven't moved an inch, your phone rings, mates telling you that they are coming down to chill with you. All of them get inside, and by the time you all feel like rocking again, you find yourself driving home. Two of your friends decide to fall asleep, one keeps you company on the ride home, trying to put one sentence together gives the impression that you've been through speech therapy. No one understands you, and all you hear from the person sitting next to you is a bunch mixed up sounds and gargles. You look at your speedometer and see that you are doing the speed limit. But why does it feel so slow? You keep a steady pace, feeling that your body is now ready to go into REM mode. You drop 2 off, and the last. The worst part of your journey is yet to come - the lonely drive home. Sitting there hearing your engine revving, you try hard to find the friction point and the only thing that's keeping you up is changing gears. Body shutting down - you arrive at your final destination - Home.
Making your way inside, you hope no one hears your footsteps. Close the door behind you, the comfort of your own space. This is your palace, your sanctuary, your room. Taking off the clothes that were once clean and sparkling, are now draped with fragments of the air from the club from whence you came. You look and feel your hands - filthy. Driver's license, cash, and recovery passes get thrown on the bedside table. Reach into the other pocket to find that little bag with that half devoured pill. You stare at it, mind opens up to thought - "I completely forgot about you."
You retire, warm, safe and alive. This is the Raver that I am...
Thanks so much for leaving love on my set Black, White and Red. It's truly appreciated!
Keep well!
-Renna
doing lots of cool stuff today?
im buying xmas presents online..