Something about being swallowed up by the momentum of a dance floor, it could be classified as its own living organism if you really thought about it. Everyone at the will of the DJ, the flashes of red and blue fantastical lights, racing thoughts calmed by a blanket of fog- bliss. To some it’s a loud, dark, moody fever dream. To me and my fellow heathens, it’s called house music, and you just made it to the rave.