Hippie (freelover) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-09-07 13:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | classic rock, hippie subculture |
Who: Classic Rock and Hippie Subculture
What: Dancing
When: Friday night
Where: some dance club
Warnings: Drug use, possible sexual content
Hippie was ready to go. She wore a flowing dress, covered with a vest and some old pair of sandals that were very near to falling apart. Her hair was down, a headband tied across her forehead. There was a flower tucked behind one ear, a joint behind the other. As she danced wildly, her limbs flailing and twisting in an odd sort of beauty, her eyes were wild and wide he lips parted into a serene smile. The flashing lights painted pictures for her, with the acid she had dropped earlier. She could imagine that these were the old days again.
When the garden flowers baby are dead yes
and your mind is full of red
don't you want somebody to love
don't you need somebody to love
wouldn't you love somebody to love
you better find somebody to love
She sang along with the music, her hand pressed against Classic's chest as the crowd slid against them. She wished for mud and more people, for the orgies in the grass. She smiled up at him dancing easily around him. She lived for this.