Trip Mckenzie pauses to reflect on a question someone mentioned to him: Why is reality so disturbing? But he gets distracted, loses his thread and comes to no insightful conclusions...

Reality disturbs in gestalt shifts.
Between one concept to another.
Experience bears out little reflection and only continuity threads it all together.
So fragile crack the world and what will unravels.

Drowning in electro submersive music and alcohol. Fragments of a face from sometime shatter me and I'm reeling. Through the crowd, faceless and confusion, we came together and tumble up the stairs with a toe to chine and no need for apology. For one moment wild and senseless  oh what glorious sense this is. And then it slips away. What we had, a world cracked was never so.

Irresistible with mane and sharp jacket, riding the dancefloor again. His bitch and castle rolled into one, throwing out temptation confetti and wed yourselves to sin girls. Hardly meant that way but he can't help it. Lock up your wives and fuck partners before they get a hard on they don't want scratched. Or so they say.
Isn't that enough to turn any man to anger and drink?

Whilst I stand confidence high-tailed and waved me off. Another room of the facelss. Finding this grey and lifeless, not waiting around to say goodbye but go blank and empty mind.

Then we get the hell out and being again.

Poison lines up in front, about to embibe when oh my mercy my soul is making music.
Acrobatics ensue. We somersault twirl and trip. From sofa to sofa the magician and I. And pretty young thing they walk in to join. So altogether spinning circling, hip to hip, making such tragically sexy living.

Five fused on in music, sweat freedom's moment. Others crash in and out, limbs flailing, twist break and snap it is joyous. To behold and misbehave.

We flood break on the street, into the dark and ever onwards. Buring bright we light the night, through traffic and travail, whoop and scream. Onto our next stage.

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