Loud music gets me high. I close my eyes and know nothing else. It covers me and gives the darkness a quality of warmth, like the dark is hugging me. Blinking when the cymbal claps. I worry about getting up with it and having to get down later, like climbing a tree that is easier to climb up than down. Why are you dualist about this? I ask myself. Music is good. Don’t worry about getting down. Maybe you’ll grow wings or find a rope. Go with it, I tell myself.