I've been having such mad Playa cravings lately that they are driving me seriously insane.
2005 was my first burn, and it's a part of me now, and I miss it so much.
I want to go back Home. With my campmates Skot and Phunk and our Camp Slack and bikes and sun and dust and God's phonebooth and dragons with fire shooting out their ears and giant glowy flowers and blinkies and furriness and happy strangers and fried hair and iced coffee from Center Camp and please let me go back now.
Werk sux. Crying at my desk over Burning Man. I give up.
Sorry, I just really needed to vent and to mourn.