Just when I’m about to rest my head on my pillow and call it a night something happens that almost instantly catapults me into party mode: a consistent barrage of fireworks that goes on for an eternity. When that kicks off it’s almost impossible to lie still and shut my eyes because every bang leads to my entire body convulsing in bed. I also start drooling; a sure sign that this party is just getting started!

Every night it comes out of nowhere too, just like walking into the biggest surprise party ever. And I love surprise parties. There’s nothing that compares to the feeling of being absolutely startled by deafening noise. Sometimes I even have to slow down my breathing and hold my chest all while trying to calm myself from getting too rowdy. Not because I think I might have a severe heart attack that will end with me in the hospital or inside of an affordable coffin, but because all this chaos feels like I’ve just been shot right out of a cannon and right into an absolute rager.

There’s nothing I love more than hearing all types of fireworks one after the other. Sometimes it’s a bunch of little ones; like 25 in a row. That just makes me want to cheer and destroy my vocal cords by screaming at the top of my lungs. Other times it’s just one massive bomb that rocks me to my core and has me wondering whether I should have invested in that bomb shelter from Lowe’s. But it doesn’t matter because when that occurs I like to open my window and just yell nonsensical things at no one. It truly gets me so hyped up. Every night just seems like the loudest concert known to man happening right outside my apartment. And guess what? I didn’t have to pay a single cent for this show because I’m getting it for free and I didn’t even ask for it!

Who the hell can think about sleeping when Woodstock, Mardi Gras, and the Krakatoa volcano eruption all mashed into one is happening? Eight hours of sleep? No thanks. Just give me eight hours of what sounds like a rocket launching into space on a continuous loop. That’s what I’m really into.

I don’t know who is behind these earthquakes every night, but I wish I could thank them for not starting their celebration off during the day. Of course I know that the perfect time to have my eardrums shattered and my eyes bleed profusely is when the sun goes down. I appreciate the fact that these heroes wait until everyone is about to turn in for the night… to turn it up!

This celebration also has no end in sight. Just when I think the party has wrapped up for the night and I get back into bed you know what occurs? Even more thrashing. Thank you! The apocalypse is going to have nothing on what happens in my area every night before bed.

I have also decided that the constant sounds of TNT Poppers and Roman Candles will become my new white noise. Forget counting sheep while the sounds of waves drift in the distance. Give me 150 decibels straight into my ear canal. That is the only way I want to round off my night; with nothing but noise. Pure, uninterrupted noise until I black out and wake up half-naked on the floor trying to figure out what day it is. And the best thing about this is that I get to do it all over again the next night. Just make sure you yell and wave your hands next time you attempt to get my attention.

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