urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fuschia_skittle fuschia_skittle fuschia_skittle 2007-04-01T15:28:39Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:fuschia_skittle:459 2007-04-01T15:27:33Z 2007-04-01T15:28:39Z Bodies gyrating against one another, skin slick with sweat. Our throats burn from screaming, our hair a tangled mess from our frantic dance antics. Every few minutes you get kicked or booted or someone falls on you, but you don't care. You simply help them up and let them continue their ride until they're at the front of the crowd. The acrid smell of smoke is delicious to our senses, and the distinct smell of sweat only fuels our adrenaline. We scream again, screaming every single fucking word of every single fucking song, because we're hardcore fans, dedicated, dealing with the mosh pits just to hear them play. We've waited months for this, months, just to hear them play for half an hour. We don't give a shit about how long they played, because to us it seemed like an enternity. To us, that half an hour consumed us, consumed us, mind, body, and soul. We were engrossed in the music to the point that we could hardly remember who the hell we were. We were feeling the music, each note running along our skin, the bass beating and thudding loudly against our hearts. Then, even when the abnd has long since stopped playing, the andrenaline is still corsing through our bodies. We feel as light as a feather, our hair still tangled and our clothes drenched with sweat, some of it not even ours. We still don't care. We simply scream and run and smile and laugh and remember. This day will always be remember, even after a million other concerts.<br /><br />We will always remember, because <i>we</i> are the moshers.<br /><br />--------------------------<br /><br />This is dedicated to everyone who went out last night to the Taste of Chaos at Cobo Hall and moshed in the pits.&nbsp; Particulary, The Used fans, because that was the craziest of them all.&nbsp; Fuck yeah.&nbsp; You all know you loved Bert kissing WiL.