I want to tell you that the night was extraordinary. It really was. I felt at the right place – the place where I felt hidden since my attention was led to a commonly experienced centre, the black box that sends out the sound. Being in church used to feel the same. For a second, I even thought of people I loved. The thought was comparable to a prayer, the screening behind the performer said “PLEASE STAY ALIVE”.

Music is a modern spirituality. In the beginning there was not a word, but there was a sound. Our beginning and ending is in fact a bang! God is a sound and words are a construct to formulate the profound truth. We can manipulate what we formulate, we can capture what we can measure, we possess what we can write down. Let us look on sound as something profoundly democratic, crossing the border of language, education and society status. We listen voluntarily to the same – a concert as a model of democratic agreement, of unifying sciences, of the individual given the chance to listen to a silent agreement in form of a sound. The DJ is the emperor, the emperor who cannot harm.

While I am waiting to enter the club, the doorkeeper looks at me and after a short stare at my face, he asks whether I am ok. The question throws me off. The friend I came with tells me he had thought I had a fresh scar on my face. In fact, I have none. I paint one above my face and neck sometimes. It is a straight line going from my forehead to my chin and over my throat. It is a sort of peaceful war painting. I mark myself instead of being marked, I show a fictional surface, to hide what I do not want to be seen. I have not come to fight you, I have come to fight my aggression. I am talking about a night X. Any night.

We live in fakes – multiple levels of truths which we have learnt not to trust. We are learning to adopt our consciousness to a phase, the phase when all systems end and we want Art to clarify this situation without fatality – for everything seems so natural. Becoming natural is the main aim of our age. Life in its biological shape. Being natural is finally a human beauty – I realize during the night, that actually everybody around is attractive. We never felt so beautiful before ugliness became attractive.

I paint one above my face and neck sometimes. It is a straight line going from my forehead to my chin and over my throat. It is a sort of peaceful war painting.

There is nothing like accidentally coexisting with awareness, or I could also say: with the ability of world absorption. I am talking about an irrational awareness uniting folks heading for the same type of music. Apparently, without talking often about the preferred music style, the contemporary scene unifies a certain group of people by the same vibes. I know we are all here because of an uniting reason, we do not have to speak about it. Probably because we like it, because it became normal. This normality is the outcome of all-over repeated experiences our existence started to stick to. As we were addicted to feeling good and by trying to approach this goal of instant happiness, we constantly shut down our sensitivity to sadness and our ability to judge. Nobody judges when we are dancing. Not in the act, which I consider being crucial for staying out of misanthropic civilisational manners. But why not attend this act – considering that everything we do, is in fact an act of (hopefully) the truth.

Let us think about the awareness as a political program, as the end of ignoring problems in places where music is silenced. Name what community is and be the community without naming it. Knowing without naming, knowing why to be silent and listen instead. Let’s make the policy of not speaking be the policy of freedom.

As we have learnt, nobody can be saved. Individualism has overrun community thinking the moment community has become crucial to our society. We are fighting together to save humanity, we are fighting together not to be alone. We share the movements of our bodies without naming it, we run into each other in the crowd as we are intuitively heading to the same dance spot. Not as if we had no place on earth – we have one: in front of the stage, outside the club, and in the empty morning streets when the rest of the population sleeps.

I am getting to one simple question which in the end makes all the difference. Do you know why you are here – are you aware of the need to avoid life in daylight and become a part of a cosmic journey led by the sounds? After we have come back from this trip and settled down into our bodies again, we suddenly know that loneliness has no connection with us when we experience this, that there is more apart from ourselves. The privilege of sound is that it contains no words.

Images courtesy of author.