"As I’ve been lured back to the sweltering, dusty sexed-up madness that is Burning Man again this year — my sixth time — by a gaggle of delicious friends, I am hereby reminded of a few hundred truths, half-truths, outright lies and astonishing epiphanies offered up by the world-famous, Christian-feared, beautifully debauched, sensory overloaded, impossible-to-describe art-survivalist-camping-rave megaspectacle now underway in the remote Nevada desert…"
I’ll come home alone. I’ll browse the internet and hear about interesting things but never do them. I’ll learn about cool people but never meet them. I’ll listen to music and never be able to play it like I want to play it. I’ll daydream and the dream will seem so real and so possible that I can taste it. I will become enveloped by it, at least temporarily, and everything will seem all right. And then a couple of days will go by, and I’ll forget, or get stressed out, or get sad, and all of that (those dreams) will go away.