This is the 24th and that means Burning Man tickets are released the day after tomorrow. I have a reputation of remaining deadly calm in anticipation of an epic moment, but if I think about this too long, it makes my palms sweaty.

I decided I wanted to go on a whim, a feeling of “You know where I want to go next? There.” But as the moment approaches and I am registered for purchase, I feel like much of my future life depends on it.

I want to go- I. Really. Want to go. Big changes are fast approaching, like a steady job, a car, a place of my own, but I am holding them off until after summer. The next few months are spent saving dangerously on primary needs so I can collect the moneys I need for this kind of endeavor.
I don’t want to anticipate too much, it’s a bad idea to get emotionally attached to your plans, since they tend to change erratically. But it’s hard.

I asked around and one friend in particular is awesome enough to actually want to join, so I’ll be staying over at his place and the two of us will continue to raid the ticket site pretty much from the first second, until we have reached our goal. It’s a first come, first served policy so it will be a race against the world. And if this will be anything like Tomorrowland festival here in Belgium, it will be a dirty race.

As they would, many bystanders are making a scene and question me all about the “why” of the decision. I’ve dried a dozen times, but that is about to change: If you don’t get it, my explaining won’t help either.
Is the festival a big circle jerk of artsy hippies in a culture-dry country? Yes. Is it a romanticized setting inspired by tragedies like poverty and war? Yes. Should you go? No. Should you give a shit if I want to go? Fuck no.
The people talking down on your dreams don’t realize they are doing it, and telling them only starts a new discussion. So follow my example: Let them talk, let them wonder, let them ask. The information is plentiful so if they don’t understand, the problem is inside their head.

I am probably blowing this up and overthinking it, but let me, for once. It’s more than a 10-day carnival for me; It’s the confirmation that even inside my comfort zone, there is plenty to be discovered still. It’s a support for the years to come, when I will inevitably wonder if I have sold my principles for a job and fancy house. It will be my encouragement next time, when I sit down and wonder what else I could go out and see.

So yeah, I really hope I can go. It’s stupid, far away and expensive as fuck, and I want it.
If things turn out different, we’ll deal with them accordingly. Right now, I will proceed to break my own rule and strongly, deeply, emotionally hope I get to go.


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