It’s so funny to feel so offline like i do at this moment. I mean, i check in every few days or so to check email, but it’s not like the connectivity that i’ve become accustomed to. I’m not sure whether or not i miss being online… i certainly despise the constant “you have 479 new messages” esque notes that i get whenever i log in.. And splitting them into 4 different email accounts does *not* ease the pain…. At least i’ve been ignoring one of them which has acrued over 1000 messages since i haven’t dealt with it in a week. ::sigh::

Of course, being offline is when most of the adventures occur, the ones that i should share with the brave souls who venture to this page for no good reason. I mean, i could rabble on about the Jelly Belly factory or Burning Man, but i doubt that i could give it justice in even sharing it… Not just for the reader but for myself. I mean, how do you distill an emotional adventure to a series of words that are meant to express the unexpressable? Not only does it seem foolish to try, it feels like the explanation corrupts the memories. Some memories are just meant to be kept inside, to be stored for a glimpse of joy and happiness. But needless to say, it was fun…

Following the most magnificant burn (not the Man, silly, but the Temple), we ventured out of the playa and onto the open road, for a full day of Nevada to land in yet another ludicrous town: Vegas… Coming back to reality is a bit tricky because there is responsibility and needless to say, it stands strong… So we slept, did laundry, visited the Body Shop (for all of those post-desert products to ease the pain) and i worked worked worked. But it’s all good.. it’s still nice and relaxed… Tomorrow we go back to camping and pretty scenary. Of course, nothing will be so glorious as a sunrise on the playa with a bit of glimmer in one’s eyes and a backdrop of crazed heads bouncing to a glorious set of psy. Although there is one more festival to go.. and for that one, i will be accompanied by my best friend and most favorite plotter which brings me such glee.

I have no idea what is happening in the world (that is the email account from which i have refrained) nor am i even certain what is happening with my beloveds (because i’ve been doing more soul searching than connecting). After flicking through Glitter on the pretty color box, i realized that the nation has kicked into “one year later” mode which made me glad that i’m avoiding everything… although it reminded me that i want to avoid the City like the plague when returning east.

Through avoidance, i did get two peculiar email messages this week… one from folks at Google wondering if i was interested in a job (::raised eyebrows::) and one hooked on phonics message with a cryptic drug-induced apology that refers me to Bukowski’s Women, Chapter 93. Sadly, i do not have said book (and neither did the local Barnes & Noble) so if any reader out there possesses such title, could you drop me a line to give me a synopsis of the chapter? I read the book… but i don’t know my chapters so very well.

I have been coming to terms with my relationships of the past year, trying to understand what is real and what isn’t. It’s interesting to get an apology, cryptic as it might be, but i’ve also come to accept that i just cannot stomach any more bullshit, deception or cruelty. At the Burn, i ran into an old roommate of mine who reminded me of a lot of things about myself, about who i used to be… I miss that person. Boston has hardened me, made me despise things, made me distrust people and thrown more bullshit in my way covered over as the typical drama. There’s something amazing about passion and desire, something about eternal optimism. I’m tired of the people who long to be cruel and hardened, to be deceptive and bitchy, just for protection. It makes for a pretty sorrowful environment. There is no need to substitute touchy-feely-connectivitity for sketchy lust, but i do prefer that to the coldness that exists out east. My collegeate bubble has finally burst and i’ve started to realize the conceptual vacancy of reality. That said, i’ve also realized that i would prefer to reconstruct my prefered environment than to accept this reality as eternal.

Life must be full of joy, not pain.