deep story nr. 154 | therapy for the soul | by Tim Kollberg

I find myself dancing in a colorful room. I don't see walls
anywhere and yet it feels like I'm inside a building. It seems
like the room is so big that you just can't see the walls. Lights
of all colors of the rainbow are raining down from the ceiling.
Well actually I can't really see the ceiling either. I just
suspect that there must be a ceiling behind all the lights. I see
dozens of silhouettes move around, but nobody seems to be
interacting with me. No matter in which direction I turn,
everyone has their backs turned to me while they twitch
ecstatically to the music. I fight my way through the crowd
and want to go to the bar. There must be a bar in some direction,
even if I can't see it. But no matter how far I push my way
through the crowd, I only see dancing backs. I can neither see a
bar nor people's faces. Suddenly a cold shiver runs over my spine
and panic creeps into my body. Something is wrong here. Why don't
I see boxes or a DJ anywhere? Suddenly I feel cold even though
there are so many sweaty bodies around me. The panic
suddenly turns into desperate fear as I try with all my might to
see the faces of the people. No matter how fast I go around it, I
can only see the back of their heads. My heart is beating wildly.
It throbs inside my chest and the shock waves spread throughout
my body. From there, the vibration spreads to the dance floor.
Vibrations pulsate through the entire scene and a crack opens up
in the ground. The crack becomes a gaping crevice and a stage
with a DJ booth rises from the inside of this gully. From the
pulpit a terrible creep grins at me and ... everything goes
black.


I open my eyes and my cell phone vibrates next to my head. It was
all just a crazy dream, a nightmare. But music accompanies
us even through difficult times. It catches us when we fall
infinitely deep and straightens us up again. Tim Kollberg today
offers music as therapy for the soul with his deep story.