I fell off the wagon a bit; I was working at a music festival with limited reception, and gave myself excuses. I did write some works that didn’t make it onto my blog here, including a new song, but I can’t pretend that I was writing every single day of my absence.
Writing a story on my mind by living it, I told myself.
Ahh, where to start. Okeechobee was nice. It was boring, to be frank. When I first arrived there, I wrote about how bizarre it felt to be immersed in a world I had long since left behind, full of glitter and plastic-wrapped accessories purchased on Amazon. The feeling never faded. It was consistent throughout, and perhaps worse by the last day.
It was hard watching all these young people wander around in their extravagant costumes. Cracked lips and sunburnt skin, lining up to wait for $20 grilled cheeses. The festival skimped on protection for the attendees, removing the shade clothes that had covered stages in previous years, and then had the audacity to up all of the other prices on top of that.
There was no fencing around the retention pond next to one of the main stages. No signage that I could see. Most people stayed out of the water, despite the heat, because they had either heard about the content of sewage and agricultural runoff present in the water, or because they had spotted one of the several full grown alligators cruising around.
Still. Still, not everybody stayed out.
They pulled a body out of the pond on Saturday.
I don’t know how I feel about it all. Statistically speaking, someone is going to pass away at one of these events. 20,000 attendees was the number I kept hearing. It’s bound to happen.
That doesn’t mean it should have. No, not that way.
Sleep is taking me, but I have more to say
