Plucky Toughtfullness

Techno.

Loud. Unmelodic. Aggressive. Annoying. For many.

Breathtaking. Magical. Pure love. For others.

Techno children. Hedonists. Youth with oversized pupils. Who prefer to sleep when they're dead. Who dance their nights away in ecstasy. Who no longer know how to stand still. Forgotten how to live still.

They're the ones whose parents lie awake at night, unsuspecting of what the child is up to.

"We're just chilling with friends today."

What would your 10-year-old self think if it saw you stagger out of the club? Dark circles under the eyes up to your shoulders. A black, blank look. Almost like nobody is home anymore. Inside you.

It's like it's just the shell. All alive, danced away. Lost. Left behind. Where the bass disappears when the DJ stops playing.

What do those nights give you? That you've turned out the way you never expected.

Once you're ready, you're going to fall. It's going to consume you. Devour you.

At first, you don't know anything about it. And by the time you notice it, it's already too late.

It's much more than you've ever imagined. It's love.

You're there with your friends, with the people you like most of all in this vast world. And you're happy.

Not only happy, in the sense of being able to live, right now everything's okay.

But happy, in the sense of happiness that fills you from the inside out. Overflows. Drowns your heart.

You're so happy you want to cry. Why haven't you seen it before? Why have you been so blind you never realized what true happiness feels like?

So you're standing in this club, next to you, your favorite people. Booming in your ears wherever you go.

You're stomping to the beat. Clumsy at first. Then, eventually, it just goes by itself. Music is your fuel.

The vibration in every part of your body. Goosebumps all over your skin. You're part of this wonderful, big mass that moves to the beat.

And you're so tall. You can see beyond everybody. Did luck make you grow?

You look to your right. You see your best friend next to you. Same beat as you. Same feeling. You know it.

Everyone you look at is your friend. Why not? Everything is lighter. Everything is more beautiful. When everyone is your friend.

It's warm in the club. Stuffy. The fog fills the room. Makes you see even worse than before.

But it doesn't matter. You don't have to see. You close your eyes.

Now it's just you and the bass. It's all you want to hear and feel. Your breath is shaking. Your heart is flipping.

The mind is free.

Tense jaw. Dry lips. You want to relax it. Lick your lips. But it doesn't change anything. So you accept it. You kind of like it. It's part of it.

You have to smile. It's indescribable.

On those nights, you live on the pure principle of hedonism. And there could be nothing better.

When you open your eyes again, you're surprised. You could have been anywhere.

But you're still in the same perfect place. With the same perfect people.

It's like a cult. Music is our god.

You forget how dangerous everything can be. No matter what happens, what you feel on those nights is worth it.

How can we be judged? We just want to be happy.

We want to take it all off, at least for one night. Or for two. Be free.

You want it never to stop. It could go on forever.

You could spend the rest of your life here with your people. And just dance.

But time is ticking. Much more than it usually does. Hours go by like minutes.

You want to hold her. You want to yell at her. "Please stop."

But you know, as always, also this night has its end.

And when it's over and the lights turn on. Your heart wants to cry. And then we're all going to come home. The way we were. The way we are.

Maybe a little bit changed.

Because those nights, you'll never forget. They're real.