My heart kinda dropped when I read this. But after I wrote it I kind of started to expect the result. I didn't delete it because why should I. I don't type to write a novel [length of post aside] but does anybody here? My mind is a little shaky and no, I can't always form coherent sentences. There's probably about three million more of me in the world. I think they still sell shotguns at Kmart. Maybe down South. Anyway, good luck.
I had a lot of good memories in my heart that night. I thought somebody out there would read it and go "Hey. I had a good time too or I remember that or Yeah. I am relating to this somehow" Or something, and that would be good times.
What I'm saying is, My nightcap doesn't include sitting around making assumptions over someone's inability to type and perfecting my stainless cynical wit on the rocks. The fur coat wasn't a real fur coat, it was fauxx, if you care, and it was big enough to work as a piece of clothing and a bed or cover, and it did. If you care [which you don't. kinda makes replying pointless but] I did have a tent. I didn't use it much but I had it. I didn't want to use it. I was happy doing things the way I had. I had all of my own provisions and camping gear and then some to help the people camped nearby who came with their car and some ramen and a polaroid sticker camera. Everything I had which I fit into a dufflebag and a case, flying over from Delaware. Anything I didn't need I gave away. That was the theme of our camp as well. We brought a lot of extra supplies to give to people who forgot or just didn't think enough to bring their own. Along my daily routine of eat sleep and be happy I also gave away jewlery and art as I toted my sketchbook around just about everywhere I went. I'd show you guys some from the week but... I gave it all away. Sorry. Kinda makes the whole experience sound like a real drag when you have to justify yourself over and over again.
I didn't go into "the drama" of my camp because there were real living people involved and whether they read this board or not, and they don't, talking about them won't solve the situation- Especially two months after the fact. I didn't even get to say goodbye to them before they left. One of the camp-mates packed up their things and took all their trash for them just to get them out of the site so he could have some peace. I didn't think anyone wanted to hear about it, I definetly don't want to write about it. Every experience has its bad points. And it's all just drama anyway.
Drama, drama, drama, drama. I like to have fun. I like to talk about fun things. I don't need to come off with this haggard you're all gonna die out there attitude. And just because I don't have one and just because this was my first year and just because I didn't say exactly what you wanted to hear doesn't mean I have no fucking clue. I was out in the middle of the desert. I had no fucking clue. I lived at no one's expense but my own [and the playa's, so "they" say but we don't talk about that here]. But so were you, weren't you?
The point I was trying to make by posting at all is that I had fun. I had so much fun I'm going to bring my mom next year. I guess what it equates to is the old school raver who's lost the magic verses the "kandi kid". But I wouldn't go and be one who'd stoop so low as to compare burners to ravers, now...