It's worth writing about. The feeling I get from experiencing things unsual to the circumstance of my every day life. Being surounded by sub-culture clones; all different, yet all the same.

Inked sun-bleached tan leather skin, an aura of sweat lingering above steaming heads. Slapping on neon green bracelets; our rites of passage. We've finally made it, we've finally grown up. Not taking advantage of this privilege, but observing them sucking down hot foaming plastic cups of beer with blue branding printed on the exterior. Sitting on grass. Sitting on grainy cement. Wondering who I would run into. Running into her ex. Growing impatient, wanting to propel time.

The sun is sucking the moisture from my tongue and body like a magnet and turning it into beads of sweat that evaporate into the heated atmosphere. Eyes stimulated, flickering at the passing bodies as if they were observing trees pass from a train's interior. Denim cut off shorts, chain linked purses, flip flops, ray ban wayfareres, blond wavy hair, black bike shorts, rompers galore, the 80s, grandpa eyeglasses, too-tiny Lennon-esque sunglasses, afros, dreadlocks, it's so in, it's so out. Too much Urban Outfitters. Confetti and toilet paper shooting into a crowd of screaming fans with flailing arms and bouncy fans dancing on stage crowded around the man of the night. Loud music and wanting to dance on stage but not sure if that's true and almost going on stage but being told to STEP BACK and taking pictures of nothing but wanting to take pictures anyway, and crazy girls testing their boundaries and fans being kicked off stage and a girl hitting the cameraman with her purse, and a gay boy and a straight girl dancing, almost grinding, and does she realize he's gay? And then our stomachs start growling even though their full of Smart Water and the sun has begun to set so our skin is cool but our skin is tan and the rain starts trickling but barely at first and then it grows and we want to get to the other side but we don't know how. The nets are everywhere, the guards are everywhere. We text and call and I check out everyone incognito through my sunglasses and surveing the fashion: some terrible, most people don't realize how to dress themselves, but some do and they look really good but not too good, it's all the same and we're walking toward a net and we say fuck it lets climb this so we climb it and I hide under the umbrella as if it will become an invisibility cloak and we rush to the food stand but they tell us it's closed and we've tried so hard but they've told us it's closed and sorry but we're almost out -- what do you mean almost out? And we begin to give up, our spirits dissolve slowly like the sweat rising in the air mixing in the misty rain even though I wasn't that hungry I was still dissapointed from limitation and we walk toward the exit as we see people in apartment buildings across the street holding signs against the glass window -- Wait. Is she naked?
Um? No.
What does it say?
"Show us.. Show us your cocks..?"
No no that's not it. We exit and walk for survival, walk for food and we pass that window and I look up and see the sign.
"Jump the fence." And another.
"Fuck em." Whatever.
And as I walk through the streets I soak up the culture, the ambience, the life, the energy, and I try to imagine living here one day and not knowing if this is too much of a bubble if it's too far, if rent is too expensive -- goddamn everything is too expensive -- my arm is soaking so I wipe it on my romper and know it's futile because it will get wet again in two seconds, and four blocks later we still hear the speakers booming and we finally find the street, the magical street I always find when I venture here and all of a sudden things get brighter and hope floats into my head and we find shelter and witness a random girl asking a random man for a bite of his gigantic over-stuffed pizza slize and he looks stoned and he says Why not? She takes a bite and laughs and we all laugh, at her ridiculous request and his ridiculous answer and the pizza looks appetizing the more I look at it but I suppress these thoughts and we walk along the rain-painted streets as the rain dies down and that word floating in my head starts to get stronger and stronger by the minute.