Chapter X - Chaos

Yesterday I went to a small gig at Eamon Doran's - Temple Bar - , a "king of irish folk metal" night, with - in this order - Runecaster, Waylander and Cruachan. The concert was fun, but I will spare a detailed description of it later, when I will download the photos.

Then me and Henna went back home. All south Dublin was silent, except for Belgrove, "where chaos (and not god) ruled all over the race of Belgrovites, as it still does now". Who understands the quotation wins a french kiss.
Everybody was out in the courtyard (yes, out in the fields like Phil Lynott) drinking, fighting, mating, smoking... you name it. Almost naked girls, a guy whith a Toga... every possible hellish vision was there, like Tortuga in "Pirates of the Caribbean".
Right in the middle of the chaos there is a circle of people sitting: among them Luca, Remy, Federico, Arielle... people we know, so we joined them. Conor lost his job and got drunk, Luca was sick for drinking too, Remy... well, he had some business going on. Matteo misses the sun and wants to walk the Santiago de Compostela way or what the fuck is that called when people take a plane and then walk for miles only to give a look at a pagan site on which a christian shrine has been built. But everybody wants to win god's grace, right?
Then the security came and quite violently started taking away drinks from people. Many were pissed of and there was open ostility and almost aggression on the security; thus the Garda was called. Under the menace of "disperse or I will arrest you, I'm fucking serious" chaos stopped, groups were dispersed, and only few throngs were left, smoking and complaining that in a free country we have right of assembly and Conor saying that Gardaì have no authority on private soil.
Long story short, a reasonable amount of order was restored. Until the police went away and then it was chaos again. Not as much though. It was already 3 A.M. by the way.
Then we gathered at Remy-Luca-Christian place (neat as usual). Henna moved the conversation on politics - how rare! - with drunken Conor and me. We left the frenchie to his affairs and we moved at my place, with Arielle, Federico and a few beers, gossiping about crazy germans on campus. Outside Somebody played Wonderwall by Oasis, the top hit of the century in Ireland, with a guitar.
The night went on, and at 4:20 the sky was painted in light blue, dawn was near. We finally went to sleep, hoping to have a decent rest. Which did not happen.