Within in the twilight of the lapses of lunar activity reliant on the forthcoming fifth day from hence. Forthly.
This event will be a show. With tickets and ticket-like things.
Sheathed in the ignorance of the future, and the blessing of the present. Nihilist hedonism coupled with existential dualism. Practicing druid-ism [sic].
And when night begins its steady crescendo, ON THIS NIGHT, so does the sonic culture both decay and then reform, as though divinity came upon its dirt-ridden visage. Calling forth the BASS of mercy, releasing early.
The bathrooms will be EVERYWHERE. The BASS will come from the troughs which line the trenches and warfare will ensue.
The stage will have LIGHTS.
There will be a price on those TICKETS.
AND THIS WILL HAPPEN
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