#forming

“In retrospect, it’s easy to dismiss the Germs as the epitome of LA’s early identipunk scene. Singer Darby Crash was a barking spiky-haired brat, an alarming adolescent combination of Johnny Rotten’s snarling vocal ferocity and Sid Vicious’ self-destructive cool. Three years after the band’s first live performance (at the Whisky in 1977), Crash died of a drug overdose, reportedly self-inflicted in morbid tribute to Vicious’ own fatal OD in 1979.”

/ From The Trouser Press Record Guide, 1985 /

Darby Crash of the Germs performing live in 1979? 1980? Who knows, it was almost 50 years ago.

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You open your eyes, where are you? Where are your friends? Where is your home?

The air is different, there are all kinds of new smells and feelings. Your eyes adjust to the dim light. You lay in an empty room, but you can hear voices in the far distance.

You stand up and rub your eyes, trying to decipher what was happening, was this a dream? A nightmare? A hallucination?

You pinch your arm lightly, but nothing truly happens, you feel the sensation of stinging very clearly.

You move every bit of your body, it kind of aches, as if you had been putting pressure on every limb and muscle.

Once you gain composure you try to recall what has happened, but can't think of it. You have your memories, but limited amounts of them. there are so many empty spaces in everything.

You walk forward out of the arched exit of the room, and realize you are underground in a cave, but a very cozy cave. There are holes in the walls here and there, holding lanterns. There are tapestries and drawings hung on the walls in a surprisingly orderly fashion.

you walk down a long corridor, passing many closed doors. Eventually you wander far enough that you have found a new room, a sort of lounge.

"Hello" an unfamiliar voice speaks gently "Welcome to the innerworld"