Liberation

   "...tone...lute..."

   An inaudible voice flutters through the deafening sound of the speakers. I decide to disregard the voice and continue listening to the band.

  "...flu...hey...HEY!"

   A physical shock from my right shoulder pulls me from cloud nine. I open my eyes, only to be blinded by the bright lights of the stage. Varying colors flash from the high-powered stage lights. Every split-second, the color changes. From red to blue to green to violet to white to red to yellow to whatever. I squint my eyes and averted my look to the ground.

  "Why the hell are you sleeping while watching a concert?", my friend who shook me up asked.
  "I wasn't sleeping.", I monotonously replied. I knew he wouldn't believe me if I said I was simply hooked by the music. To begin with, I'm not exactly the kind of guy who listens to a lot of different songs or goes to gigs to see a certain band. I don't even play an instrument, for crying out loud. My eyes have adjusted slightly to the blinking lights. I looked up to the band performing on the stage.

   "Anyway, I was asking if you still need to tone a flute?"
 
   Why is he asking me, of all people?

   "I don't know. Maybe not."

   But I do know why he's asking. I keep noticing a certain sound coming in and out of the jive. He plays a note but never continues with the song. He stops abruptly as if he notices something off with the way he plays or the sound he produces. I'm not sure. As I said, I don't know anything about music. I won't recognize if that one guy misses a note. Nor will I know if he actually knows how to handle the instrument properly. As far as I'm concerned, I was enjoying what I was hearing. It invokes a feeling inside me that's so strangely different, yet so warm and comforting. Like a sincere hug from a distant acquaintance you haven't seen in months.

   Maybe you were wondering why I had my eyes closed while the band was performing. I wasn't being pretentious. I don't ever want to come across as pretentious, especially on something like music where a lot of people have strong opinions of it. No. Remember the epilepsy-inducing stage lights? It started to seriously strain my eyes after staring at the stage for a few minutes. At first, I didn't want to back down. I wanted to show I can handle it. Ok, maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that I can handle it. But just after 10 or so minutes, I knew I couldn't take it anymore. I tried looking at the ground to escape the technocolor hell but even the ground's color were changing in rapid succession. I struggle to keep my eyes open as my it involuntarily squints to a close. I don't want to close my eyes! I won't be able to watch the---

   All black.

   The beat seemed to pound on my chest harder. I couldn't distinguish the instruments but I could tell all of them have one soul. It kept flowing around me, consuming me, ridding me of any other sense other than my hearing. A sea of sound, and I was happily drowning. Something powerful overcame me when I closed my eyes. I felt shackles shatter within me. I didn't care what the stage lights is doing, nor did I care that the one holding the flute kept massaging his jaw after every note. I didn't care that I was in front of the stage, nor did I care if they saw me as someone sleeping in the middle of a concert. I haven't been to many live gigs nor have been too enthusiastic about music, but at that moment, music consumed me. It cut the rope I was holding on, let me freefall through an endless cliff while hugging me tightly all the way down. Waves beating me down from all directions, throwing me down then pushing me back up. Not once did I resist. Maybe for the trained ear, they may have heard countless mistakes in the song and in the end call it a failure of a set and I'm sure I'd be oblivious of it all. And you know what, I don't really mind. In this particular case, ignorance IS bliss.

   After the set of our friends band, we took a few photos then went our separate ways. Most of them went straight to their homes. Some must have eaten out on the way. Our group was divided to two, each going to different terminals. I went with one group, but as they were boarding, I stopped and waved them good bye. They were a bit confused, but still bid me farewell. The air was cold. I tucked my hands in my pocket and started to walk back to the grounds. I wasn't in any hurry. The sound coming from the grounds was loud enough that I could still hear it while walking back. Now, it was just me, alone, walking down in wide road without anyone to share it with. The sound of the instruments still booming in my ears. I didn't have to think about anything else. Just me and the sound of their souls. Thank God for music.