Don’t mind me, I’m still in Rocket Arena, watching confetti fall from the ceiling while Vessel sings my favorite song off the newest Sleep Token album.
I’m not one for letting myself cry in public. It takes a lot to make me cry in front of others, like truly cry, not the few tears thing. I can do that. I can show I’m a human through that, but when it comes to the kind of crying that makes people ask if you’re okay, I stopper that up so fuckin’ fast.
I wish I had the words to explain how utterly overwhelmed I was when I got to hear Infinite Baths live. I sobbed. In full view of people I love dearly. One of them put her arm around me to comfort me, for which I’m grateful.
I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt to turn my head to the ceiling and watch the pink paper confetti fluttering down onto us as Vessel asked us to drift with him.
Surreal.
Ethereal.
Unearthly.
The way it lives in my whole body, the way it switches me to life to remember I got to experience my favorite band in an arena.
I’m not a risk taker. I’ll talk myself out of just about anything. And the idea of crowds in any number greater than five is abhorrent to me. So, getting tickets to not only a Sleep Token concert, but also the Louder Than Life festival the weekend before, it made me do a quick, “hey, who even are you?”
Turns out, I can be brave for Vessel. I can put aside my biggest anxieties just for the chance to exist in the same room as him, hearing him sing his music.
That’s such a powerful thing to give someone, you know? The confidence to be unafraid of what scares them. I didn’t need to see him (I did a few times, don’t worry, it wasn’t me just Gollum crouching saying “my precious” the whole time).
I got to hear him.
What a beautiful, beautiful thing to be part of, to keep in my heart for the rest of my life.
salisbury.fake 