It felt good to be up there.
Though we hadn’t played together for more than a month, and hadn’t practiced with one another for more than a month, and we made small but noticeable mistakes, and most of the equipment provided by the bar was crappy and I was all out of shape and encountered cut fingers, cramping wrists and slipping eyeglasses and all.
It just felt damn good to be playing our songs again.
It felt damn good to play with Tence and his booming beats. It felt damn good to hear G-boy’s thumping basslines. It felt good to listen to Jary rip the strings of with his guitar solos. It felt good to provide music for Prexy’s sizzling vocal prowess and her “Let’s go Johnny” encouragements.
Playing with our band freed me from the world for the whole span of those four songs.
Even if the world I fled to was not perfect, it always feels good to be free.