Last week, I brought out the high-ciety prick. And as usual with him, I brought up Asking Alexandria.
Well, wouldn’t you fucking know it – guess who’s in town tonight?
Of course we’re doing this shit again.
……….
Why do I bother, I do not know? The jokes being done at my expense are ludicrously immature. I do what I am told and go where I am needed because I am a man of my word but I’m fearing my good faith is allowing people to take advantage of me.
Last time I met Mr. Asking Alex they did me no favors and angered me in ways I struggle to feel otherwise. I guess second chances are equivalent to good deeds, but be warned: there are no third chances!
I know the routine now. First, we see Nerv. They call themselves Nerv and I would assume, knowing that assumptions are unwise, it’s because they had the nerve to not even wake! Tired from the start – absurd! How does one tire from the start?
I did not recognize any of the words being screamed at me but at least they did not attempt to kick me this time. This evening forced my worries elsewhere; on the second floor of the vast venue, a young child was trying to throw himself over the railing. He was unsuccessful fortunately but why the band didn’t try to save this child I do not know. One might even argue that they encouraged this behavior!
The Word Alive succeeded. One thing you may notice I’m ignoring completely and utterly is the screaming; I do not appreciate people screaming at me and tonight is no exception. What I do appreciate is people calmly telling me the thoughts on their mind. I’m grateful for the quieter moments The Word Alive provided although I do not concur with their commands of crouching, jumping, et cetera et cetera. I do not concur with having people dance to your suicidal sing-a-longs.
The poor boy upstairs, the one trying to fling himself off the edge, looks so very exhausted; while you sing about death the look in his eyes say, “I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” But the action in his body says, “We’re going to fly off this balcony!”
Mr. Asking Alex. The ones who masturbate to their own faces because presumably no one else will. My safety was not compromised, and fortunately neither was the young boy’s; at this point in time he was too tuckered out to try and kill himself. Just as tuckered out as Mr. Asking Alex who for some reason can never remember that the Mile High City is at an elevation of one mile above sea level.
I am an objective person; I do not condone these types of events, but having seen these events before, I must give a “good job” to the crowd – this crowd had energy surpassing the one many months ago. This crowd was able to jump and was able to sing and was able to momentarily remind me that I haven’t had my evening cappuccino yet.
I am an objective person; I appreciate Mr. Asking Alex taking the time to honor still bad, but not as violent, musicians Backstreet Boys. I appreciate the crowd in singing along to said musicians. I appreciate that for a single moment in time I didn’t feel angry or upset and scared. I felt content.
I am an objective person; I have not been won over – the screaming of banshees does not amuse me. The fisting of each other’s bodies does not amuse me. The fear for my safety does not amuse me. The jokes sprinkled throughout the night like the hilarious topping of a cake of poop does not amuse me.
The expectations tonight were different than previous, this I know. Perhaps there exists a future where Mr. Asking Alex and myself can get along, but for now, I’m going to sleep knowing at least that that young boy didn’t hurt himself on that second story balcony.
……….
The plot with the prick thickens! This was different than before – this was much more metalcore-y. And take it as you will, but the crowd this time ’round felt a couple steps up from the crowd last time ’round. I felt like I was in the middle of a Gogol Bordello show, and the crowd was half the reason that show was the first on my Must See List.
While tonight may have been a bit under the mark to make the list, the fun everyone was having was infectious. And I’m still extremely proud of that kid for not flinging his body off the second story. And it was still extremely satisfying leaning against the wall and watching the show. I mean, come on, the prick is even starting to come to!
I was spotted tonight! I was the one with the tic-tac-toe boards tattooed on his or her leg! Help me afford more stupid tattoo games via donating or buying merch! Then try to figure out who I am and play me.
