February 20th, 2017 | 50 Entries

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50 Entries for “concert”

  1. “A concert?”
    She stopped.
    “Yes, a concert, duh? You didn’t know we were going to see a band play?”
    “No, I didn’t, I–I’m not in the loop very well.”
    She laughed, a confused, obligatory sort of sound. “I’m not…sure how you could have missed that, it was…it was all over every social group we have.”
    An anguished chill tingled up my spine. “I…I’m not…in any of those.”
    She fell silent.

    By The Wanderer on 02.22.2017

  2. i stand in front of the piano
    palms sweat, stomach turns
    i bring my violin to playing position,
    letting each note fly away
    i finish in a crescendo
    but no one’s there to clap

    By Pandyfish on 02.22.2017

  3. This is where we start.
    A concert of fools running into battle. A song bursting in the air, screaming HOPE and DEATH and HEROES. We never know what it costs until it’s over.
    Is it worth it?

    By cally d. URL on 02.22.2017

  4. I was up on the stage. I could feel the beat as I sang. Their were so many people I was nervous but I kept singing.

    By angel on 02.22.2017

  5. The sound, the lights, the crowd, the band. The music. It’s so crazy to think we all ended up here for one reason. Hundreds of different people, one thing in common, the music.

    By Katelin on 02.22.2017


    By linet on 02.22.2017

  7. The lights, the deafening music.The sweaty, screaming bodies jumping all around you. You put up with all of this at a concert, why? Because you like the way something sounds… humans… man, they’re crazy!

    By sammy on 02.22.2017

  8. it’s about how people perform a drama or how they sing or act a song.

    By Doai URL on 02.22.2017

  9. did this yesterday
    why is it repeating now
    i just do not know

    By stranger on 02.22.2017

  10. Whether it be just you or a crowd it makes no difference. This is just as difficult. My breathes are just as shallow as my eye contact. And yet I perform. I will hit the notes I need to; you are listening, they are all listening. I will sweat with worry, but only on my scalp, you cannot see. I want you to see how effortless this is, because you are not on the stage beside me. Are you proud, somewhere, watching from the crowd, a chasm of distance and paper cut-outs of people in between? I’d like to think you are. I’d like to think you see though it- you hear the slight catches of my breath, you see the strained muscles under my skin, you see all the way to the sweat wetting my hair. The effort it takes, isn’t that something to be more proud of? I’d like to think those words as your thoughts.
    I’d like to think you’d give me that as my own, to carry with me always.

    By Ai URL on 02.22.2017