I still can’t believe I’m going to Burning Man. I still can’t believe I had enough forethought to purchase a ticket in February, full well knowing that I was going to purchase this ticket last November. And it wasn’t until two weeks ago that I had fully committed myself to going forward with this experience. But my car is packed. My route is planned. And tomorrow I get in my car and begin my journey to the Black Rock Desert north of Reno, Nevada. I don’t want to think about it too much. But I’m really looking forward to this. For some reason I feel I need this more than I want to believe I do.
I don’t have any costumes. I really didn’t put much effort into the artistic side of it. I figure that side will either come out of me there or when I get back and write about my experience. But I wonder if I will choose not to write about it. Perhaps some part of me will decide that my experience is for me alone. But I doubt that.
There is a part of me that wonders how shocked I will be at people’s behaviour there. I know I’m fairly tolerant, and beyond that, there is a large part of me that wishes the world was a much different place. Maybe I will require decompression afterwards. Maybe I won’t want it to be over after they burn the man. Or maybe I won’t be able to wait to get home. Either way, I’m sure I’ll write about it in ten days time.