Respire fort

The crowd is pulsing, roaring, laughing, and still, it's all empty. The air seems to be shared, but you have to breathe alone, as if every inhale is passing thru shards of glass. The music flows thru your veins, takes your breath away, and for a moment it feels like it's the only thing keeping you alive, preventing you from completely dissolving into the noise of other people's voices. There's a strange honesty in running in place: fear, panic, an attempt to shed the skin of anxiety while others sleep soundly. Outside it's a celebration, inside it's a fire, where the heart doesn't know whether to beat or just burn out. And yet, the rhythm continues to call, as if the body remembers how to live, even when the mind gives up.