In Bieber We Trust

They all looked the same last nite . Ironically, suiting up in their battle gear - In Bieber we trust tshirts, make-up and attitude - actually dressed them down. They became the tribe, thinking, but at a purple-meme level, collectively, primitively.

And yet,

yet

There was something beautiful in the narcissism. It was, after all, unaffected by all the trappings and nuances of full-borne adult narcissism. It was simply doing for feeling; being like the other. A coarse but completely recognizable call-to-come home. Sometimes it's at an ashram, sometimes a tent-revival, sometimes in a concert hawking $50 tshirts and concert chattel whose brief lifespan arcs from a third world shop to middle-class hands to a union bulldozer at the dump.

Beautiful and pure.

Synchronized movement as 40,000 feet jump up and down to the bass; vibration - clothing and penetrating my heart and mind and bringing me to the place where I can watch sidewalks of laser-light crisscrossing the air

Hearts riding them out and back again; sometimes being met with sickness, sometimes solitude, and always, eventually silence.

The silence that the purple tribe came from, and will return to.

The place from which "I" came from, and will return to.

the place from which the I is watched

and fevers are dissolved

at the root.

Namaste