Day Two

So I’ve successfully (?) made it through the first day. Totally not at all what I thought. Also didn’t expect to get completely drunk the first night. That was kinda fun.

Met and spoke privately with a number of individuals. My neighbors (both sides), people at the bar, out on the playa, at the Man.

Had a dream about the lady sitting at the bar. Purrina or something. Cute.

Hopefully today goes a bit better. I believe it will at least.

Been a few more hours and it’s getting hotter now. Winds picked up too. Let’s see if my tent can withstand.

It’s interesting. When I was in Hawaii there were lots and lots of very attractive people. That’s still the case here but they aren’t as fit, at least speaking of the men. The women are actually fitter. Last August I thought I was the shit and now I feel like I’m nothing special. Been getting a lot of looks though. Who knows, maybe it will inspire one or two of them to get in shape.

Been at least another hour now. I think. The sun is not yet directly overhead so it’s probably 10:30 or 11. Around 6 is when it was cool enough to safely wander outside.

So this seems to be my strategy: wait out the sun. Find shade and rest. Conserve energy. Then go out and explore when the time is right. Try not to stay out too late and start sleeping before the sun rises. Otherwise you will wake up sweating with very little actual rest.

I’ve struggled to read The Stand and even thought it odd as I can read pretty well these days. But I’m glad I have it with me here and with so much left.

I still don’t know what I’m doing out here. When I first heard about Burning Man I was interested in a giant drug-filled party. What I’m getting is anything but. But it’s okay, it’s only been a day or so.

I feel that I might meet someone or a group of someones, someone who will make sense of my purpose. Why am I alive? How best can I serve others and myself? I’ve felt that I’ve been failing at both of those, although I’m getting better at taking care of myself. It’s time to lighten others’ loads.

I ended up bringing too much stuff. Ironically. I feared that I would run out of food and starve, but it’s exactly the opposite. I have so much food I don’t know what to do with it. Surely can’t eat it! The heat has deprived me of any hunger. Eating makes me sick to my stomach. Ironically again.

I can’t stress this point enough: the most important thing to succeed at Burning Man is SHADE! And water, but I feel that’s a given. If you have shade, water, and a good book you can withstand the brutality of the heat. Without it you’re fucked.

Walked down to the library and picked up The Confederacy of Dunces. Supposed to return it next year. The book caught my attention because my younger brother had mentioned it to me before. I remember being inspired by the author’s story. The book was published 10 years after his death. ┬áHe had a Master’s Degree in English and was a teacher at a university, and obviously wrote in his free time. At some point he must have “realized” that his dreams of becoming an author weren’t going to happen and he killed himself without ever publishing anything. Maybe he thought people would take him seriously that way. Who knows? Regardless, I now have the book and have read the first chapter. Very witty and snappy dialogue. Almost zero exposition. Probably similar in style to something I wish to write. The interchange of ideas through dialogue is what fascinates me. Much more so than a wooden description of a particular thing in a particular way. Who knows, maybe this will be the book I write.

I made myself some instant coffee before I left and when I returned it was warm. About the best way to get hot coffee here I suppose.

Today is a much better day. I made a fatal mistake yesterday and wandered the playa for hours. In jeans and a shirt. Now I wear only shorts. No underwear. No shirt. It’s much too hot otherwise, and even then still.

I’m sitting in my tent and the sides are flapping wildly. No way in hell am I zipping them up. Another mistake I made yesterday. Won’t happen again.

Everything I have brought here is now pastel. There is a chalkiness to it all. In a sense you could say it is all ruined, but that seems to be an error in reasoning. I brought all that I did because I believed it would soothe or shelter me. And acting upon your beliefs is never a mistake. Even if it ends up that way.

I have this habit where I rub my eyes. Therefore I don’t like my hands to be dirty. In this place it is caked with dust and sunscreen. Yesterday I rubbed my eyes until they watered due to stinging. Also not going to make that mistake again.

I used to think that a great writer would stop and ponder at the page, write a sentence (or even half) and reflect. Now I am sure otherwise. I believe great writers just write. They have been training their brains since birth to excel at it in the way that they talk to themself. Therefore just write. Edit out the bad shit if you desire. But write unceasingly until it is done and finished.

At this point I would gladly pay $100 for a nice shower. Seriously. Money is fucking useless here, but water is gold. A shower is liquid heaven, a great big sloppy kiss from the Goddess.

Yesterday while I was speaking with my neighbors I kept getting an erection whenever I looked at Janel’s (?) boobs. Because I wasn’t wearing underwear and I was sitting in front of Israel, I believe he noticed. When I went over to say hi this morning he did not seem as friendly. I suppose I have overstayed my welcome.

But damn she had nice tits.

My acoustic guitar is likely to be ruined by the end of this week. When I went to fiddle with it earlier all of the strings were severely detuned. Dramatically so. I bet the wood will begin warping too. I only hope that it sounds cooler because of it somehow. Who knows, right?

I have a fondness for out of tune/sync things. A little dissonance goes a long way. When I recorded my songs with Bobby one string was particularly bad. At first I hated it, then I accepted it, now I kinda love it. It makes the opening to the song very dark and cold, much the way I was feeling under the circumstances. Maybe my acoustic guitar will have a similar effect permanently now.

I turned on my phone to quickly take a picture and caught glimpse of the time. 1:07 PM. That was 15 minutes ago or so. I’ve since shut off my phone. Best to immerse myself completely.

For some reason I thought that I would be getting offers for sex simply by being here. Naivety is a fool’s burden.

I probably could have last night though as there was one chick eyeing me a lot at the bar. We sat near each other for nearly two hours. I left because I was drunk and tired and didn’t want to expend the energy necessary to seal the deal. Besides, there was a guy trying to make it with her. Best let him have her. More will come. Or cum. Whatever.

Tonight I plan to wander the playa and admire the art. That was my plan last night but drink took priority. I don’t regret it.

I’m amazed and surprised that I have not encountered any “jocks” here. Frat boys. Fuck boys. Whatever. So far everyone has been super chill and down to earth. They have a saying here: “Welcome home.” Now I see why. Only cool people come here. Only the crazy are ballsy enough to attempt it. Basically, if you’re here you’re already accepted by default. You’d have to go out of your way to make enemies, and even then it may not be possible.

I love my long hair but goddamn does it suck out here. Extra heat is no bueno. Oh well. Sacrifices and such.

I just dreamt (metaphorically) about leaving and the thought of air conditioned coolness sounds so pleasing. A touch of God. Every time the wind blows I am thankful. It’s the only balm to the torturous heat. I am grateful.

There seems to be a trick to surviving out here: occupy yourself. If you sit in your misery, you only get more miserable. If you direct your thoughts outward, you will be alright. Stagnation is death. Movement (action) is life.

When I go exploring I leave my car unlocked and my tent exposed. And I have no worries to lose any of it. The only “fear” would be someone tripping and needing something desperately, in which case they can have it.

I keep eyeing my food as I must be hungry, but nothing appeals. I wonder how much weight I will have lost due to this.

It is Monday today and I leave next Monday. This trip has already been more than I could have imagined and I have absolutely no idea what lies in store for me ahead.

I’m trying a different strategy today. I am keeping one side of my tent open for wind and the one closest to the sun closed. Hopefully this works better.

The sun is at it’s hottest (perceivably). Of course its temperature stays near constant all the time. A few more short hours until freedom. For now I am trapped beneath shade.

I don’t think I can sit in here anymore.

I don’t understand my aversion to sex. I am aware I am attractive and yet I continually make no progress getting laid. Why do I have this block? And how do I remove it?

So I needed to use the bathroom and got up from the torrential wind/dust storm. I literally saw a twister/tornado of dust, not unlike the latest Mad Max movie. Upon leaving the bathroom I heard dance music and shouting not far away. I said fuck it and traversed over there. I was immediately greeted with “There you are! Welcome home!” Even if forced, it still felt great.

I opted out of dancing and chose to sit and watch instead. Got a few drinks (even without ID, shh…) and started mingling. First with the DJ. I asked him some questions about his set up and some of his strategies to keep the groove going. Afterwards I made my way over to a chick who had been mutually eyeing. We talked for over a half-hour before making my way back. Her name was Autumn. Perhaps I’ll see her again.

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