It starts in the gut, quickly radiating outwards, down your legs and along your arms at the same time. Creeping up your neck, you hold you breath in anticipation, waiting for the rush. A momentary pause, time stands still, and then like the Norwegian Blue, voom!

Listening to the hockey game on the radio, I’m completely absorbed in a surreal experiment that engages my imagination. Names and described action fill my imaginary rink as the team wins and loses. It’s not quite synaesthesia, but the sounds create a different reality that exists outside of television.

But live, now there’s the rub. The adrenaline takes you higher when the roar of the crowd shakes your very core. The amplifiers thunderous, the mosh pit energetic, the light show fantastic, the body electric. The ringing in your ears echo the experience, keep you coasting just a little bit longer.

Or perhaps you prefer your excitement in a more subdued doses, like an IV drip that sustains a romanticized vision of the perfect relationship, the perfect job, the perfect world. Layer upon layer, we follow the yellow brick road to our deepest desire, constructing the rationale that lets you sleep better at night. This is living, you mutter to yourself.

Live for those moments where you revel in joy. Moments where you’re left awestruck by fantasy, where you can genuinely smile, for the company of good friends. And live for those moments, where like Icarus, you come crashing down. Cause it’ll make the trip back to the top, that much more satisfying.