My eyes were not closed. How would I see the music moving if they were shut? Did not need forced darkness. I kept the eyes open, drinking like thirsty dying,
liquid smooth sliding into silence.
I was not alone, but here is how I slid carefully (purposely) into lonely, deeper darker deeper darker smooth:
Easy easy does it. Slowly let go of his hand, slowly edged forward in my seat so there was no flesh heat on my thigh. Eased out of contact, opened eyes wider.
Breathed in the music. Lungs hurting, like I had never inhaled before, like every wisp of air that ever inflated my lungs was just to tease the alveoli. Bigger, painful. Feel that throbbing? It is my heart, synchronizing with the bass. In my chest. Thumping slow and steady, life confirming life.
Eyes wider. Did not blink - brimming with tears or dirt or music - no difference.
Did not know how far I could remove myself. Had to test it. Had to confirm absolute detatchment, absolute sinking. Could I drown in this blue? Slowly,
carefully, into lonely; deeper darker smooth. Yes. Yes I can.
. .
.
sunk