When I go to La Cosa, I remember what Ron D Core told me about
it being an old school party venue.
Out of respect, I can't be one of the people who says "I
hate La Cosa."
Starburst was not a jam packed hot and sweaty party with no room
to dance or move, but instead an intimate night, where you could
meet someone, split, and easily find them later. In that respect,
it was better than How Sweet It Was, or Electric Daisy Carnival.
There was a good variety of music, with local House and Trance
talent, and even a little "Jump Up" style Jungle.
But a party is only partly about the music. If you wanted
to enjoy Starburst, you had to make it interesting for yourself.
In my case, that meant sneaking past security, taking the pitch
black elevator up to "3," walking through the "Resident
Evil" like levels (where vagrants sometimes sleep), and
up the stairs three more floors to reach the roof. Here I could
enjoy the stars, the night air, the tranquility of being completely
alone, and the anguish of being completely alone. While there,
I was inspired to take a picture of the roof, but I don't own
a camera. By typical raver miracle, I looked down and found a
perfectly good pen. (How do these things happen?)
But that was the second time that I went to the roof, because
the first time, I went with a kickboxer who was fast company,
just like me. This, the first time I had ever ventured up to
the roof of La Cosa, was a raver highlight for me. Who knows
how many people have slipped by security to experience that roof
over the years, and who knows how many will do so in the years
I don't know if right before I die, memories of Starburst will
flash before my eyes or not, but I do know that I will not see
flashes of the T.V. shows I missed to go to Starburst instead.
And for that alone, thanks to Kristina and the rest of the Believe