“In Webster’s terms, nirvana means freedom from pain, suffering and the external world, and that’s pretty close to my definition of punk rock.” —Kurt Cobain

Sunday was my first time in a moshpit. It was at a punk rock show, with band after band until 9 PM. I have never been part of something so expressive, so violent, so full of emotion, and I loved every second of it. The rawness was more than I had ever expected; every thrash and yell and fist breaking the air felt so primal. People were flinging themselves off the stage and the amplifiers. There was endless kicking and punching. The crowd was an amoeba, charged with motion. Being thrown around every few seconds and punched and drenched in flying drinks made me remember something that I had read once: Punk doesn’t discriminate.

I felt like my body was turning my emotions into energy. To an observer, it may have looked like a series of random acts of violence, but I could feel the meaning behind everything. It was a response to the music; it was a release.