My house is messy

Back from the desert.

C said she felt simultaneously like not speaking to anyone in the outside world, and also very lonely. I said I understood completely.

(Because I do.)

I haven't showered yet.

Go camping for a week, and New Orleans goes away. Fuck.

I miss pizza.
I told my campmates that there should be a Black Rock Pizzeria, and, while I never found it, was completely delighted to have several of them tell me in unison that one exists already, of course. Apparently, when you eat there, you make one pizza for yourself and then make another for delivery to a random camp.

"Vacation" is at once a completely appropriate and utterly ridiculous word for describing burning man.
I've learned that I really can't figure out what I get out of the experience from year to year until I get home and sort out the after-effects, of which there are many.

I hope there's healing.

I do know I feel more like I want to make music again. For this, possibly more than anything else, I am glad.



Hello, default world.