Being with them

It’s warm when I move and cold when I sit back down. Not really cold but there’s cold air in here. I can smell different people, coconutcake and rice with vegetables and chicken. Also beer. I can hear people talking. Dan, Sal and Keith in English and the people who work here in German, ’the cold language’, like I use to call it. Sometimes, all of a sudden I can hear English with a German sound, when the people talk to Dan. The couch where I’m sitting is soft and very, very comfortable. The elevator door opens up and I can smell all the other kinds of food, brought by more people who work here. The band who is going to open the show is walking through the room, and then stepping into the elevator, they are trying to impress LOA by being superloud and supercool. Although there’s no window I know that it’s dark outside and I feel like an animal in a cave, cosy and safe. Dan is coming over and sitting down next to me. His words about one of the roadies make me laugh. I tell him how much I miss hanging out with him and the other guys, but only that one once or twice a year is not enough. He says “I know“, and I know too. And we remain in silence, not uncomfortable yet but silent. I know I’ll miss this room once I’m not here anymore, I know it. I can feel it now although I’m still here. And I’ll miss this room only because that’s one of the places I’m just at because of these guys. I’m sitting next to Dan, with Joey and Keith sitting just some steps away and I’m missing them yet. I’m trying to stay in the present and to soak up everything, everything, everything. Staying in the present is pretty easy, because Steve – thank you, by the way – is coming from outside and throws a snowball at us, sitting here in peace. My shirt’s wet now and it’s getting cold again. Thanks Steve, I didn’t mean “soaking up“ in this context. And the smell in the room has changed again.