I remember it vaguely, yet somehow, the feeling of it lurks and constantly expands like a freshly dropped atom bomb of joy in all the corners of my soul. It begun as only a brief walk to clear my rampaging conscience after a rechid bitch tore my heart to pieces through her cruel nature. My body enraged with furiosity as no amount of footsteps to a distant destination seemed to cure my anger. Though it is difficult to write about this part of the story as it ended so abruptly, the memory of it ever being there was almost completely forgotten. It happened as i marched angrily down a street i had a many a time wondered previously. Though somehow, I had every time until this point failed to see the dull lit light that shone in a weary tone in a small offset from the footpath. And I had only noticed it through the musical fireworks that exploded from its insides. The powerhouses of Aretha Franklin and The Byrds shouted with a soul that had been silenced for nearly half a century thanks to the greed of musical art mixed with currency. Though somehow, in this small neck of the dirty rotten woods of the city, its life was resuscitated for just the briefest of times. It was a demanding/magnetic/spiritual(if you believe that sort of thing) force that rudely throttled me through its doors without a single groan of hesitation. Because of my tight budget, my logical mind rung alarm bells to not walk into this alcohol riddled venue, but these bells were just drowned out through the funk and soul of 60’s Americana. It would have taken a fleet of heavy machinery to conceal me from whatever layed inside those doors, so naturally, I was engulfed by its magnificence, and in its magnificence I bloomed, falling pleasantly through a tandem cycle of no time at all. I had not even noticed, but the troubles of 45 seconds ago had taken flight and fucked off to a distant land i did not care to pursue it to. I was now a puppet of Martha Reeves serination and over a freshly layed timber floor she grasped my dancing feet and arms in ALL her glory. The people inside groved in a nature I had only seen through the power of drugs or in gay clubs. It was the joyous melodies of the likes of Jefferson Airplane and The Yardbirds that brought forth monouvors inside of them that had been concealed for 20+ years. You could feel the energy that they transpired and I think you could have almost powered the amplifier with its electricity. But now, the night is no more and tomorrows ugliness has arrived bringing with it a severe headache. Though the beauty of this nights flows through my blood in all rhythms of tenderness and the darkest of all days could have this minute credence of light shine upon it to bring forth the beauty of any amount ugly.