Day Five

Wow. Last night was fucking incredible. Best night yet. It’s strange how every night gets better and better. You’d think that after going out and seeing the art that going back again another day would be less special but apparently not. Well and the acid helped. lol

I met so many cool people and had such great interactions. The previous night I was in a foul mood so I had almost zero interaction. But it’s what I needed to have the dreams that I had. Maybe I’ll get into that later, but it’s very personal and disturbing, even for me to think about.

I dreamt last night too, and I remember it being intense, but cannot recall now.

Oh, I should make note to appear at 3:45 & B at 3:30 pm tomorrow, Friday. There was a lovely musician¬†who’s name I cannot recall and I’d really like to see her again. She was beautiful. Her heart and soul is gold. And her voice…

She made me want to tear up with every note she sang. It was hard not to break down. But I think it fueled her even more, so I’ll take it.

So check this out: yesterday I saw and spoke to 5 musicians. Ben Caron at the bar (lovely soul), Jeremy James Meyer, the two duet girls (Kelsey Sprague and Hayley Dayis), and then the 3 piece folk band, Runnin’ Trainwreck. They were all so incredibly talented and pure. So much love and soul.

Jeremy was a kindred one. His songs, although seemingly upbeat and joyful were filled with sadness and loneliness. I couldn’t keep from eyes open for fear of breaking apart. And the only reason I even stopped in that room was due to the offer of free tea.

I love this place. It is indeed fucking home.

I already have many ideas to make next year’s Burn even better. But for now I will immerse myself in the now. Right here.

So to recap. Sunday sucked. I thought of suicide often due to the oppressive heat. Monday was a little better. Tuesday was worse, the exhaustion was taking a toll. Wednesday was pure joy. Let’s keep this ride going a little longer.

I was trying to estimate how much money was invested here. Like a billion dollars. It’s hard to judge.

There are nearly 300 art pieces. Some (many) cost multiple millions of dollars. Then add all the rented/bought RV’s. The tickets. The food. The camping gear. The alcohol. The drugs. The costumes, lights, apparel. The infrastructure. It’s incredible. So much time and money poured into a week’s worth of novelty.

THIS IS WHY WE ARE HERE.

Paradise DOES exist, and it is Burning Man. Don’t believe me? Show up and find (out for ) yourself.

This place is pure magic. Pure love. Pure connection. Pure giving. Pure taking. Pure everything. Even the heat.

There’s so much about last night that I want to write about but I’ll leave the memories in my heart. You’ll have to come yourself if you want to know.

But besides memories, there is more to say. I have a strong dislike for being dirty. For being sweaty. For being sun burned. For being uncomfortable basically. This place abolishes those fears by thrusting you into the fire. But you won’t die. The people here won’t allow that. You’ll be safe, even if miserable. And you will emerge reborn. A true phoenix.

This place is THE place for real change. The only things that I’ve experienced that come close are psychedelics, and this is just so much more. Try combining the two (or more!) for maximum effect.

I came here to find a sense of direction. Which way do I go? Wish I knew. MUSIC!!! Just fucking do it and stop bitching. It’s obvious now. Can’t run from it. Just create your art and the ones meant to find it will. I am ABSOLUTELY sure of this now.

Speaking of, I left 2 PSYBER.cide CD’s out on the playa for strangers to come across. I feel a little guilty as I’m sure it’s generally looked down upon, but fuck it. It feels right. Maybe I won’t leave all of my CD’s, but whenever I stop to sit and eat a snack I’ll leave an offering in my place. It’s my gift and I trust it to find the ones who need it.

Writing that makes me want to cry. That’d be embarrassing but I don’t mind. If not here, where?

Two different people have helped me create a shade structure. I am sitting under it now and much cooler than I’ve been yet. There is a saying that says, “The playa provides.” It’s not unlike the Christian ethos that God will take care of you. In fact it’s one and the same, just different words.

Coming here has restored my faith in God. I was raised Christian and hated it. Despised it. It felt so disingenuous. So fake. But God exists. And (s)he is everywhere. Is everything. Is everyone. Everything is always perfect. All the time. Even when you feel otherwise. It is your story.

Part of my dream is coming back. It was another recurring dream (a different one) but much more intense than previously.

I don’t remember the details but I was set up and going to be arrested. Previously when I dreamt it I failed and got locked up. Every time actually. This time I escaped with the help of a kind soul. It was marvelous. I feel as if all of my burdens I have carried were freed in that dream. I wish I could describe it better but that’s all I can say.

Such amazement.

Even though I have a lot of unwanted thoughts and images, many of which I would label depraved or even evil, I have not committed evil. I am not my “evil” thoughts. Anything but. So I must keep faith in God that there is a purpose to these emotions.

And soon the dam will break free and I will be divine.

Again.

This has all happened before and will always happen again.

This is life and it is everlasting joy. You just need to accept the process and succumb. Do not be afraid. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the only enemy. Trust love. Make decisions based on love and it will always work out in everyone’s best interest.

Bet at peace.

It’s hard not to cry but it’s okay straddling that feeling. It will happen when it happens.

Time to pee again.

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