Late night reminisce..

I was wondering if some of you had ever expirienced this before.
.
Occasionally, certain books and movies, even songs, have a way of getting under your skin. Not in a bad way, in fact, it's a feeling of such purity that I often find myself weeping softly in joy that such a beautiful part of the human expirience exists.
. It doesn't happen often. An emotional journey of wonder almost identical to the innocence of a child, yet with the mature comparison to average life, it lifts you up to such a high peak of peaceful tranquility, you feel almost immediately addicted. You subconsciously pray that this positive vibe which has touched you so deeply continues, yet in the morning, when you wake up, you feel as if it was a dream, you can hardly remember it.
. Late at night, (after having slept till 1 in the afternoon), when the crickets are chirping and the world is still, a part of your soul lingers on the boundries of your consciousness. A part usually muffled and ignored in the rush of everyday life. It creeps up slowly, fearing that it's arrival will be taken into account and therefore stuffed away again.
. I felt like this after seeing Fight Club for the first time at a friends house, reading The Power Of One over the span of a lonely weekend, watching MirrorMask while toking up late and night, when I relived Vanilla Sky due to insomnia in the early hours of a monday in Autumn.
And as I rewatched Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas for the 20th time tonight.

. It's inspiring.
. "Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a main era.. The kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something, maybe not, in the long run. But no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time in the world. Whatever it meant.

. There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. And that, I think, was the handle.. That sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting... On our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave.

So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right Kind of eyess you can almost see the high-water mark... The place where the wave finally broke.. and rolled back."