This is a true story.
My second year at Burningman, I was out in the deep playa by myself trying desperately to sew the broken paper mache back together on our art project. The storm wad thrashing me and the sculpture pretty bad. Comoplete white out. I was running low on water. It's getting late. A gruop of burners stumbles out from the wash think our project might be of some shelter, which it was not.
They did not offer to help me, but they did offer me some drink. It turned out to be some sort of Liquor. They disappeared into the white with goodlucks and best wishes.
bY nightfall I had sewed and taped as best I could and begane to commence the march home. The playa had calmed down and the lights of the city started to flicker across the horizon. I began to walk but before long realized I was comming on.
They had dozed me. With my limited exposure to drugs I gueesed it to be mushrooms. I was sick as a dog. Bellied over in gut pain. I don't know how long I lay in the dust all fetal and ready to have my last breath. I mad my peice.
This guy found me. He began to talk to me in a low voice. Asking me what was going on. I muttered out poisen and sick. I could hear him perfectly, but my boduy was not pressent. It was in the throws of poisin. I felt like a mummy.
He stayed with me and told me about what he came to learn about Black Rock City. He told me the problem he thought was not that people act poorly, but that they act habitually.
They act the same as they do everywhere else.
He helped me come down and eventually I had a great trip.
I wanted to thank those people for dozing me.
Risking my life was worth what I learned on that day.
There is an adventure in every moment if you can see past your pain to live it.
To the man who changed my life on that day...
how am I doing?
oxoxo
fucko
My second year at Burningman, I was out in the deep playa by myself trying desperately to sew the broken paper mache back together on our art project. The storm wad thrashing me and the sculpture pretty bad. Comoplete white out. I was running low on water. It's getting late. A gruop of burners stumbles out from the wash think our project might be of some shelter, which it was not.
They did not offer to help me, but they did offer me some drink. It turned out to be some sort of Liquor. They disappeared into the white with goodlucks and best wishes.
bY nightfall I had sewed and taped as best I could and begane to commence the march home. The playa had calmed down and the lights of the city started to flicker across the horizon. I began to walk but before long realized I was comming on.
They had dozed me. With my limited exposure to drugs I gueesed it to be mushrooms. I was sick as a dog. Bellied over in gut pain. I don't know how long I lay in the dust all fetal and ready to have my last breath. I mad my peice.
This guy found me. He began to talk to me in a low voice. Asking me what was going on. I muttered out poisen and sick. I could hear him perfectly, but my boduy was not pressent. It was in the throws of poisin. I felt like a mummy.
He stayed with me and told me about what he came to learn about Black Rock City. He told me the problem he thought was not that people act poorly, but that they act habitually.
They act the same as they do everywhere else.
He helped me come down and eventually I had a great trip.
I wanted to thank those people for dozing me.
Risking my life was worth what I learned on that day.
There is an adventure in every moment if you can see past your pain to live it.
To the man who changed my life on that day...
how am I doing?
oxoxo
fucko
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SF Bay Area
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:12 PMThe year they had the Giant Duck Jazz bar.
It was probably 4 in the Morning and I was sitting next to a girl wearing a sparkely red dress. I was high on acid and we started chatting it up. There was another guy trying to cock block me. I was tottly happy and things were getting kinda sureal. I could not pay attention to the music and I had already lost my freinds. I had to get out into the fresh air.
I could hear singing and music outside and I could swore it was Angust young from AcDc playing with Billy Gibson (from ZZ top) and Geaorge Thouroughgood.
I could swear I heard them playaing this out of this world acoustic blues. I keep looking for them and walked around trying to find them.
Then I noticed the red dress girl was with me. I think I told her about they guitar playing but she did not know what I was talking about. I ran my hands up the back up her dress. She had a great butt. Dusty but smooth. We made out a bit but I was so desperate to find these guys I had to keep moving. We walked aroudn a bit before her freinds cuaght up with her. Her boyfreind was very uncool. He stood in front of me like he wanted to fight me.
Iasked him if he saw the guys playing the really great blues riffs. He just gave me a really shakky stare. They finally left and then it happened. This art car strobe past me playing acoustic blues. I ran up and introduced myself . this older woman was driving and she had a few people all blissed out in the back. I stood there and gooved out with them for a while. We drank and talked until the sun came up. I took her back to my camp and we all had freanch toast.
That was a good day.
oxoxo
fucko -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:26 PMMy first year at Burningman I did not know to bring any costumes. In fact they we not as common as they are now. But I did manage to find a sarrong which I wore all week (stinky)
On Firday we did a metal pour on the playa and I doid most of the charguing which took forever becuase the propane furnace just was not putting out that much heat. We must have gone through fifty gallons of propane alone.
But in the end, the pour went great and we made some really great sand/playa casted sculptures. As I was walking back to camp from where we had done the pour (esplanade) this girl yelled out to me "hey you" I turned around to see a stunning girl. all tank girl and playa barbied out. She was beautiful and sweet.
It was dark and she said " Hold my habd and walk with me."
So I did. We walked to the end of the street and chit chatted about nothing really.
We went our separate ways.
That had never happend to me before and I remember how much of a profound act it is till this day.
That kind of trust is rare.
Thank your hold hands girl.
oxoxo
fucko
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:38 PMMy first year was a little overwhelming. I was trying to do all the things I saw that i liked in the whatwherewhen, but for some reason I did not bring a watch or an alarm clock, so i had to ask people.
I was alone in my camp and knew it was getting close to time to be at this one place and couldn't find out from anyone what time it was. Finally this girl was walking up the street and I ran out to ask her. She said, "time?!??" - and then threw her arms around me and give me just the biggest, sexiest kiss I couldn't even imagine, a long kiss that made me forget all about whatever heebeegeebeewhatevertehfuck. Completely captured me, right there. Just as I thought to myself, "I've got to take this woman to my tent!" she pulled away and said, "see? you're good. Just relax and flow." and then she turned and walked on.
oh, my god.
thank you, kissing girl. -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:46 PMKissing girl~
great story
oxoxo
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:44 PMThree years ago I took a musical kit out to the playa with the intention of setting up a drum kit and a guitar and a mike, then sit out there and playa and hope that people would com ebuy and feel invitd to pick up and instument and jam it up.
It kinda worked. Mostly a few people grabs the mike and yelled soem lyrics to a silly song.
But this one night, A guy say down on the guitar as I playaed the drums and we really rocked out. Then a bunch of guys came over , literally running over to us with a bunch of drums. we starte d jaming all together. The guitar player was really good and kinda funk based and somehow we worked into Earth Wind and fire's shinning star.
A woman got on mike and just started blaring the lyrics at the top of her impressice lungs. Out singing the amp. She had an awesome voice. Donna Summer kind of voice. Soon we had about fifty people around us all singing
" you're a shining star... no matter wgho you are..."
and before long we brokke into
" shineing star for you to see'
what your life can truley be"
and it ended in claps and hugs and smiles.
Thank you my shining stars!
oxoxo
fucko -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 3:59 PMIn 2004 I walked around saturday Morning pulling a trailer behind me yelling
"Bring out your Dead'
afew peopel laughed but then a guy wallks up carrying ab=nother guy over his shoulder and we completed the act , word for word in it's entirety,
Man: Here's one-
Cart-master: Ninepence.
Old Man: (feebly) I'm not dead!
Cart-master: (suprised) What?
Man: Nothing! Here's your ninepence....
Old Man: I'm not dead!
Cart-master: 'Ere! 'E says 'e's not dead!
Man: Yes he is.
Old Man: I'm not!
Cart-master: 'E isn't?
Man: Well... he will be soon-- he's very ill...
Old Man: I'm getting better!
Man: No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im like that! It's against regulations!
Old Man: I don't want to go on the cart....
Man: Oh, don't be such a baby.
Cart-master: I can't take 'im....
Old Man: I feel fine!
Man: Well, do us a favor...
Cart-master: I can't!
Man: Can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long...
Cart-master: No, gotta get to Robinson's, they lost nine today.
Man: Well, when's your next round?
Cart-master: Thursday.
Old Man: I think I'll go for a walk....
Man: You're not fooling anyone, you know--
(to Cart-master) Look, isn't there something you can do...?
(they both look around)
Old Man: I feel happy! I feel happy!
(the Cart-master deals the old man a swift blow to the head with his wooden
spoon. The old man goes limp.)
Man: (throwing the old man onto the cart) Ah. thanks very much.
Cart-master: Not at all. See you on Thursday!
Man: Right! All right....
They turned out to be actors who had doen the play in their new hampshire theatre.
thank you pythons -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 4:09 PMI was sitting at a table at Decompression ( sf) when y friend intorduces me to this guy ) we all begine to recount our playa experiences and this guys starts in wuith a story about how he had gone to the observatory (under the man) but was way too high (on what I still don't know). He began to talk about it as the most embarrassing thing that ever happend to him at Burningman. He headed towards the man because he thought for some reason that their would be Porto potties there. He had to go apparently.
He said that he was really tripping out and found the theatres to be too exciting but one of them was this blacklight puupet things that looked really calming and soft lit so he parked himself in front of it and got lost in the colors and shapes of the puppets. Just then, one the puppets begane to move like a human about the stage and it ltterally scared the crap out of him.
It ruined his evening to say the least.
When he found out I was the guy in the puppet costume, he never talked to me again.
Thanks to the poopy tripper
oxoxo
fucko -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 5:27 PM<He said that he was really tripping out and found the theatres to be too exciting but one of them was this blacklight puupet things that looked really calming and soft lit so he parked himself in front of it and got lost in the colors and shapes of the puppets. Just then, one the puppets begane to move like a human about the stage and it ltterally scared the crap out of him>
Goddammit! NObody told me there'd be black light puppets! I thought you had to go to Prague for that! -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 5:38 PMIt's true. I run one of the only Blacklight Performance Peices in the US.
But we drink russian Vodka so It's sort of international.
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 4:12 PMThis year I was tripping along with a couple of friends. One of them, a guy, was wearing skin-tight blue paisley pants and a blue top. The pants were wild. We were walking along the Esplanade, and coming towards us was a girl with the same wild skin-tight paisley pants, but in red with a red top. She told him, "I like your pants!" He replied, "I like your pants too!" She said, "Wanna trade?" He said, "sure!"
She was wearing flip-flops and took her pants off in about a second and a half. My friend was wearing complex playa boots. He had to sit down on the playa, unlace them, unvelcroe them, and it took him about 5 minutes to get them both off. In the meantime, this girl is standing around on the Esplanade, naked from the waist down, waiting for him to take his boots and pants off.
He finally got them off, and they traded pants. Now he had high-water red paisley pants (he was taller than her) and a blue shirt, and she had long blue paisley pants and a red shirt. She was a really good sport and didn't mind standing around in the cold naked from the waist down. She rocked! -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 4:26 PMoh, well, it it's trippin' stories you wanna trade - here's my favorite one yet, from 2007:
I was - well, yes, enjoying unnamed cognitive modifiers - in deep playa, watching the sun go down. The whole city lay out before me and I was enjoying the movement of the lights, the people, the cars, the spectacle
But - what was that? I hadn't seen that before! it was a bus, like a big overland bus from the 40s, but a stretch bus, the longest-ass bus ever, over by 10:00. It was a long way away, but it looked *very* cool, way more than an art bus, more like someone's pride and joy, but they were trying to turn it, or park it, or whatever: it wasn't clear. There were people with flashlights and they were signaling and the driver was jockeying forward and back.
Whatever: I had to see this bus. I've been interested in old cars and old trucks and buses for a while and I'd never seen one so long, or so interesting. I walked a little faster over toward 10:00. For some reason they could not get it right: it kept backing up, then jumping forward; what the fuck were they doing? I hurried over to see it, I wanted to ride on that thing!
Then I got close enough to really see it and it was the bank of portapotties at 10:00.
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 4:16 PMsounds like you got dosed w/ stale cum from that ruptured accumulator. -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 5:47 PMWas that funny?
no.
but ahnywayz,
One year the Crew from Audacity camp decided to host a Porto Potty Judgeing contest.
They would wait until the blue cans were mostly full then rush over with their chairs and wait fro the peopel to come out.
They wuold then spen the next hour or so giving scores (on scorecards) to dismounts. They even had a MC who would ask each judge for comments and scores.
I ran over to my camp and grabed my saturday Night Fevor outfit and my giant fro wig hiding it in my backpack. I was wearing a pair of camo-shorts when I walked into the can, but I emerged a disco God!
I was awared perfect 10's and recieved an official award that still hangs proudly amoung my diploma, and other awards.
oxoxo
fucko -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 5:54 PMI'v etold this story before but it was a beautiful moment in my life.
2000,
Early one evening, a few friends and me heading out just at dusk into the deep playa when white outs started threading across the playa just enough to seperate us from any sense of where we were in relation to anything else. We were in the middle of nowhere really. There were quite a few people just walking around like us ans just a a perfect momment a stage appeared out from a dust cloud. There must have been about forty people in the general area of this stage when I noticed there was a string quartet on it. They performed a waltz intro, and perciesly in perfect sycronicity we all took a partner and in perfect step, began to watz in the dessert. I danced with a beautiful happy woman who was dressed as Alice in Wonderland and we all strode around the stage as they played.
Just as quietly understood the watz had begun, we all bowed and seperated.
One song.
One dance.
One heart.
I have never been the same since.
Thank you waltzers.
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 5:59 PMMy first year I was bartending on an Art Car and this guy sits down at the bar and starts DRINKING. He asks me were he's from and says he's from San Rafael and starts laughing and doing a John McCain grimace. Now at this point (observant fellow that I am) I realize he is tripping on something he has never taken before and is trying to calm the drug down with a massive dose of alcohol - not a good idea. So I start ignoring him when he asks for drinks. He then asks everyone (including me) again where they are from and grimaces at them. You really had to see his face. Anyway I got distracted when Satelite Suzy wanted my boots and she said they didn't go with her pants so I told her to take her pants off and well...that's for me to know. -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 6:04 PMI once unknowingly ate mushrooms buried in garlic mash potatoes. I was full and hallucinating. I had no complaints. -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 7:21 PMI had a special moment on the playa this year. A burner came up to me with a trumpet in his backpack. He introduced himself as Satchmo.
I asked if he would play a song, the most appropriate one I could think of considering his name and where we were.
And I sang "oh, what a wonderful world" while he played.
I hugged him, saying I hoped that we would meet again soon. We went our separate ways, I with tears in my eyes from the profound statement we had just made. -
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Re: A BRC story
Wed, September 24, 2008 - 8:42 PMWe were smokin toads and scorpions at the Trash Fence this year
and freaking people with our dead baby alien corpse.
All Time! -
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Re: A BRC story
Thu, September 25, 2008 - 11:35 AMOnly on the playa:
I was going to write a note and hang it on my tent. Got my paper and was about to look for a pen when a girl walked by my tent at that exact moment WITH A PEN IN HER HAND!
This is the type of thing that if I decided to write the note 5 seconds later, she would have passed by and the "playa moment" would not have occurred.
Only on the playa:
I was saving a large spot for a pal and his RV. He came by and told me they were camping somewhere else.
I walked over to the camp to my right, sat down and said "if anyone is looking, the space to my left is now open.
Just as I'm saying that, a RV pulls up, this cute girl pops her head into the shade structure where we are, and says "anyone know a cool place for us to camp?".
Wow! -
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Re: A BRC story
Thu, September 25, 2008 - 11:39 AMthis one time I was thirsty?
AND THIS TOTAL STRANGER LET ME SIP OUT OF HER CAMELBAK!!!!
no shit people -
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Re: A BRC story
Thu, September 25, 2008 - 11:49 AM>AND THIS TOTAL STRANGER LET ME SIP OUT OF HER CAMELBAK!!!! <
That was ME! (Why are you calling me 'HER'?) Was it good for you, too?
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Re: A BRC story
Fri, September 26, 2008 - 10:32 PMI was out on the deep playa early in the morning alone. I was dancing with the desert, an annual ritual. The wind was blowing from the southwest. You could see the pulses of wind by the waves of dust flowing along the ground coming from the city about 7 o'clock.
I was praying for a heart connection with people at the burn and with people in my life in general. Just about then I saw a small red dot in the distance headed directly toward me in the wind. it bounced along closer and closer and basically came right into my hands.
It was a small heart shaped balloon that said 'we heart you' on it.
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Re: A BRC story
Fri, September 26, 2008 - 10:38 PMI was basically too drunk to replay this episode in all its complete strangeness but to the best of my recall I had been the slave of my significant other all day. She was dressed up in a military uniform and I was basically in some form of slave getup. She had send me to center camp on some demeaning errand and I'd been drinking some hard liquor and stumbling around through center camp outbound when I heard a low-pitched voice say something extremely silly.
I turned around and there was a black whale lying on the ground in the middle of the road. It was a pretty fair sized whale and didn't seem to have a way to walk.....whales on land are pretty limited in that way of course. It was a very sociable whale and told me several jokes before I stumbled on my way.
My guess this was floating world year...what else could it have been? -
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Re: A BRC story
Sat, September 27, 2008 - 1:31 PMI think there was a gray whale in 03. I know I met it, and I know it was after 02. -
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Re: A BRC story
Sat, September 27, 2008 - 1:40 PM"If I recall, the totem was a wooden carving of an eagle. "
Sorry to throw a bummer in after reading all these nice posts...
But....
Wasn't that piece of art burned and destroyed?
or was it that the sculpture's tools were stolen?
I remember a request went out for donations a few years ago to help the artist out.
Anyone else remember something happening with a wood carving artist? -
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Re: A BRC story
Sat, September 27, 2008 - 2:12 PMThere was certainly an incidence last year involving the burning of an artist's work, tools and gennie--oh and a trailer, too. -
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Re: A BRC story
Sat, September 27, 2008 - 3:38 PMHeard that the piece brunt was a wooden statue of Liberty that was setting on the guy,s trailer I believe it was wednesday nite.
IIRC -
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Re: A BRC story
Sat, September 27, 2008 - 6:44 PMYeah, that sounds right. It kind of got overshadowed by P.A.'s stunt. -
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Re: A BRC story
Sun, September 28, 2008 - 12:08 AMI've heard a lot of stories in my time. "Mister I met a man once..." they all began. Goes along with the sound of a tinny piano playing in the parlor.
Well I guess neither one of our stories is very funny.
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Re: A BRC story
Fri, September 26, 2008 - 10:48 PMI went out riding with my friends, a pack of us heading down the playa south of the man sometime around sunset. No destination in mind, just out cruising and seeing what might happen.
In the distance we saw what looked to be a giant flower headed our way. The base was like a giant terrarium with a huge green stalk. The petals all changed colors and it had an enormous stamen. At the time I imagined it was some kind of alien creature with a single eye that was looking down at us.
The thing moved slowly with a stately grace and there was beautiful music playing from it. The flower head swayed from side to side and seemed to be looked down at us.
One one level of course you know it's a giant crane all made up. On another, your primitive mind is gibbering that it's some kind of alien life or an elemental god come to pass judgement.
Definitely one of the most unexpected and compelling visions for me on the playa that I hold in memory as particularly special.
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Re: A BRC story
Fri, September 26, 2008 - 10:57 PMOkay, final story so I won't hijack the thread. My SO and I went for a walk to change our state of mind. We went walking down the street with no particular aim in mind. We spotted a crowd of people in a camp that seemed to be concentrating around a totem pole.
If I recall, the totem was a wooden carving of an eagle. There was no script, no ceremony. We sang, we danced, the group swirled in a circle at random around the totem which was a form of focal point, cheers went up, expressions of sheer joy, thanks and expressiveness.. It was simply a celebration of that moment and we all participated in it to the best of our love. Then it rained. -
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Re: A BRC story
Mon, September 29, 2008 - 9:04 AMI didn't really miss being at BM until reading these stories. There's always so much tripe about one year being better than others, too many frat boys, not enough REAL Burners, etc., that I was starting to lose sight about what I really love about these events and all you psychotic, creative, fucked-up, amazing folks.
I posted this quickie once before, but it seems like a good place to tell it again:
Back in '06 Leah and I were heading back to camp for a pit stop after playing on the Playa, all giggles and stumbles, when who should be heading our way, walking at a briskly intentional pace, cape flying behind him, obviously on his way somewhere important, than Batman himself. Out of respect, we tried to straighten ourselves out a bit, but couldn't help showing our excited reverence. Batman, with his keen senses, picked up on our murmurs of admiration, and as he passed us in the dark shot us a quick salute and stated in a deep, serious voice, "Citizens," and vanished into the night.
I don't know if it makes sense that this should be the case, but I seriously think that was one of the funniest, most amazing things I've ever experienced. We spent the next hour enjoying that fleeting encounter, and it obviously still resonates today.
Thank you, Caped Crusader. You had us at "Citizens..."
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Re: A BRC story
Mon, September 29, 2008 - 12:13 PMThree of my friends got dozed this year. -
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Re: A BRC story
Mon, September 29, 2008 - 1:01 PM>Three of my friends got dozed this year. <
Cat, John Deere or Komatsu? -
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Re: An embarassing and gross BRC story
Mon, September 29, 2008 - 5:21 PMWalking across the open Playa this year I spotted this piece of paper blowing by and being the good BRC citizen that I am, I grabbed it. It turned out to be a partially burned page from a bible, probably a remnant from the book burning event the night before. I put it in my pocket and forgot about it. Flash forward a few hours, and I'm battling through a rough and nasty ride in one of the portables. I reach for the paper roll and there's none there to be had. Now I'm in a bit of a panic, and I start searching through my pockets hoping to find a discarded commissary napkin. No luck, but I do come across the bible page I'd forgotten about. Did I do it? You bet I did! I'm not a christian by any stretch of the imagination, but it still felt wrong. At the same time, it was very nice not to have to go back to camp and change my drawers. I didn't want to throw it in the potties though so I put it inside a plastic cup someone had left on the floor and carried to to Center Camp. Tossing it in a trashcan I couldn't help but mutter an "Amen."
:+} -
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Re: An embarassing and gross BRC story
Mon, September 29, 2008 - 7:36 PMthis thread kicks azzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzssss
I was out one night this year by the Mutaytor at Red Nose. I saw a beautiful guy and I wanted to hang with him, but my posse was leaving and I was just too shy and unsure to stay with him, so I asked him where I lived and what his name was. He said Monty, 8:30 and outer ring, smiled at me, and I took off all trippy like into the night.
The next day I recalled it because Im that kind of tripper....I remember almost everything. I decided to take a journey to 8:30 and K. I lived at Lustre at 3:00 and Esp. so I had a long drive on a bike. It was tough and it took me all afternoon. When I got to the outer ring over by 8:30, the first camp I asked said, "Yeah! Monty is right over here!" They were really nice mellow folk and their camp was very rustic and simple. They had it dialed in though, great shade structures and all the neccessities. There were 3 colorful flags in their front yard as the only decor of their camp. Out by their camp was the Outer Ring, aka K Car st. Beyond their camp was nothing but mountains and a few wind surfers. It was magnificent and very oddly lonely out there, kind of like living in the country.
Monty got up from a nap and he gave me a beer and we sat and chatted for awhile. They were all from Tahoe, and it was something like their 12th burn. He said "We like it out here with our ocean front property" Being by the nothingness WAS like living on a surreal ocean. Their camp faced the "ocean" and the city was behind them. Monty gave me some treats and said thanks for the conversation. It was cool to talk to veterans about all the years out there. They didnt brag, and they werent jaded. They were stoked to be there and were simple. I tried to get him to come out with me, but I dont think he was interested, but he was really nice and sent me off with beverages and snacks.
My ride home was so cool....I visited many crazy camps and listened to megaphones and giggled to myself. I was in quiet mode so I just spectated my ass off on my drive home, and it was fun. I did hit up the High Chair Stilt Bar and hung low with some stilt friends of mine before I got back to Lustre.
I knew this hot guy Monty wasnt going to meet up with me later, but the fact that he got me out there to the outer ring all the way across the city was so awesome. Thats a great thing about Burning Man....while I had intentions of finding a fun friend, what really made an impact on me was that journey, and to see that nothingness on the other side of the city. It made the 'rejection' seem like no worry at all. The last thing I was feeling was let down. That edge of the city is so ominous and really impacted this years round of Burning Dreams.
Thank you, outer ring man.
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