The Rituals of a Mosh Pit Fiend

An announcement is made to confirm our geographical location

A general inquiry is put forward to the crowd to gauge our collective mood

Fucking. Boring.

I know, but I try to remember and hold space for the fact that some fiends in this mosh pit need the small talk as part of their ritual

I do not want talk, of course; I want rock

I did not come here to be small talked at; I am not paying you to small talk at me

Start. Screaming.

The snare rolls and my heartbeat syncopates to the kick drum

And the ritual has finally begun

I have no idea what arcane incantations the singer is screaming

It's either something about how terrible the government is or how terrific cocaine is

I just love that she is finally screaming and I pretend with all of my kick drumming heart that she is screaming directly at me

The ritual promptly proceeds to propel this mosh pit into pandemonium

I swirl around the pool patiently awaiting the next step in the protocol

A surly little imp in a patched-out denim jacket with a spikes dog collar hits me in the side of the head with a forearm shiver

Thank you

Connection

As usual, I fall over and two demons try to help me back up only to realize that they are going to need more than two

Connecting with the rock-bottom floor of the mosh pit is an undesirable part of the ritual but I am unfortunately a strict adherent to protocol

Further connection with the floor is, of course, optional at this point but also inevitable due to an inopportune center of gravity

While on my back, the singer screams battle orders at me, “GET UP! MOSH! GET UP! MOSH!”

And I am giddy with recognition

The shitty part of my brain that would normally tell me there’s no way she’s yelling at you

Clearly she's yelling at the wallflowers in the back

That shitty part of my brain was left at the door along with outside food or drink

And believe me, I know the punishment for not following the teacher’s orders

I get up. I mosh.

I get up. I mosh.

The ritual continues

I search for more connections amongst the fists and elbows of the devil’s surrounding me

Only occasionally nudging and prodding to produce a reaction

I need you to understand that love was never gentle to me so neither can this place be if I am to feel loved

But instead I feel connected with the splash of an uninvited guest

I mean, honestly, what kind of a jackass brings a beer to within 20 feet of a stage like this?

Fuck you and double fuck the watery ass beer you just spilled on me

You have to know I can’t hear what you’re saying right now

So if you’re screaming at me that I owe you seven bucks for a new drink then how about you kiss my ass seven times and see what that gets you

It’s suppose to be a fucking melee up here not a goddamn tea party

The ritual continues

Connections come and go

I withstand however long it can be dished out and I am equal parts relieved and disappointed with the final encore

I leave the mosh pit without saying goodbye to my fellow fiends as protocol demands

I retreat back to the stinging light of the higher plane

And I simply sustain myself day by day as I await the next descent into the pit of fiends who love me just so