I didn't stay at camp inforoo...

But it was for a good reason. This story is long, and may not be all that exciting for you guys, but it needs to be put out there.

On Wednesday night, at the bus station, I saw two people. I suppose for this story I can call them Flip and Blanche, with good reason. I met them on the bus. Karma set me up with these two people, I know this now. I feel already that I have known them both for years, Flip in particular.

We camped together at the very front corner of Sloane Peterson, near a yellow flag, with several other people whom we met on the bus. There were three Canadian girls, two boys from Montana, a couple other kids, and one dude from Austria. His name is Harald, and his story is another one entirely. Flip, Blanche, and I were inseparable for nearly the entire weekend.

On Saturday night, we decided a little enhancement was needed, so this was taken care of. After helping an overindulgent friend back to camp, we decided to be on our way to Centeroo for the FLips. By the time we got there, I had sobered up, though Flip and Blanche had decided to re-indulge for some late-night action.

30 seconds into Yoshime, I began crying. At first I tried to stop it, I tried to push it back, for fear of my Bonnaroo being ruined. After a minute or so, however, unsure of what was causing this, I sat down on the grass and let it happen. Sometimes you have to simply sit down and feel what your body wants you too. After I sat down, Flip looked down at me, and took my hand, squeezed it, and smiled. He said to me, "look at Blanche." I looked up, and she was standing on his other side, holding his other hand, tears streaming down her face. I stood up, and Flip lead us away from Which Stage. We missed all of the Lips, without a single turn back. It was a good decision.

After a few moments of confusion and a bit of laughing at how silly we were all behaving, we ended up at the Solar Stage. As it was a small stage, we had plenty of space to sit down right at the front. Freezing, I sat as close to Flip as possible, and help on tight to his arm. Jittery, he rocked back and forth and chattered at Blanche and I, who sat on either side of him. I remember continually pulling myself as close to him as possible, his body was absolutely bleeding energy and heat. It was incredible.

He told us, "This is where we are supposed to be. Right here, at the Solar Stage. This is where we were supposed to end up, for all of Bonnaroo." Staring into space, I laughed a bit inside, wondering if it was the truth, or the drugs talking. As they watched the Bonnaroo Buskers, enraptured, I stared into space. After a minute, he read my mind. "You're thinking about your boyfriend, aren't you? Stop tripping out about it." For a while, I did think of Austin, but after that, my mind went farther. Flip kept telling me to stop "tripping out" and to "relax" and while eventually I did, there were some weird thoughts in between.

I looked up at the sky, slipping into the meditative state that I have recently become so accustomed to, as I have been practicing this often, lately. For the first time in my life, I experienced the smallness they speak about in the movies. Looking up, I saw in my peripheral vision the entire country, and then the whole earth, stretching out from my hips all around me, growing larger with each moment. I felt myself shrinking into something that was in fact nothing. Closing my eyes, I saw this image, the whole earth beneath me, nothing but gray and green. I felt it moving, slowly, turning with infinite patience and smoothness, as though it had nothing to do in the morning. As though there was nothing on its back that mattered, only the grass and the grayness that we compose. I felt the movement of only a few inches, but it was the earth turning nonetheless.

Opening my eyes, I looked out at the sky in front of me, over the Solar stage, sitting legs crossed and back straight. I thought of my life. I thought of Austin, my job, school, my upcoming career, my family, friends, and my own tired, sore body. I thought of all of the things that make me stressed, depressed, and exhausted, and realized that they were okay. I came to the realization that although my life may be stressful at times, I would be okay to continue plugging through it, like a train thousands of miles from it's destination, knowing all the while that it is doing what it is meant to do. Whether or not the decisions I make are the right ones for me, whether or not I am living my life as I should be, and doing what would truly make me happy did not matter, because in that moment it was enough to be alive, breathing, feeling, and being small. I felt things that, with as wordy as I have been here, I still have not adequately described, and I never will. It is enough for me to hold them close to my heart, and remember how they tasted. To loose what I found that night would be the end of my happiness. I truly believe this now.

After several minutes of this meditation, Flip again voiced his concern. He asked me if I was okay, and told me again to "stop tripping about it." He pulled me back close to his side, and I realized again how cold I was, and how warm he was. He told me that he knew there was a reason why we were all there, and that there was a reason why he and I had met. He told me that although I did not know why this was, he did, and I would soon. He was right. I found, through the course of the evening, and the next two days, that he was right about things like this quite often.

After watching the whole Buskers show, we got up and decided to get Blanche some pizza. While she felt her food, rolling the dough around in her fingers, and mushing it against the roof of her mouth, Flip and I danced. We stood at Galactic and danced, and for a few minutes I felt normal again, as though I was simply at Bonnaroo, and not having the most interesting spiritual realizations of my life. After a few minutes of dancing, I sat down on his lap, curling close to his chest, cold. He was burning all night, as though he was full of an energy that... well, I can't describe it. It was probably just the drugs, but still, I wonder.

When Blanche had finished dissecting and eating her pizza, (which was hilarious to watch, by the way) we had another moment of confusion. I wanted to go to the art of Such-n-Such. Blanche wanted to go to bed. Flip wanted to make us both happy. We went to the art. When we got there, they were just closing up the last show of the night. Distressed, I watched intently as they took down the amps, rolled up the rug, and began pulling things off of the stage. The art of Such-n-Such performances were my favorite part of Bonnaroo last year, and I was incredibly upset to have missed it. In my already fragile mood, I again began to cry. I watched the yellowness of the stage and the peoples faces as they disassembled the props from the show. After a while, it was too much, and I stood.

For me, the art of Such-n-Such embodies the magic of Bonnaroo. For some it is the music, or the ferris wheel, or the fountain. Everyone has that one thing that is their symbol of all they love about Bonnaroo, and while I love all the music there, Such-n-Such is my little Bonnaroo Mecca. It sounds sad, but it's the truth. So, upon realizing I had no seen a single show on that tiny, creepy stage; upon watching them tear apart the one part of Bonnaroo that hold the magic, I flipped out. Remember, I was emotional at this point to begin with.

I walked away. Realizing something was wrong, Flip and Blanche of course followed. Flip tried to hold my hand, to put his arm around me, to comfort me as we walked, but there was no stopping it this time. Through all of this, he had been back and forth between me and Blanche, trying to make sure we were both okay, and he had been doing an incredible job of it. With his energy, and positivity, neither of us could have asked for a better person to be with that night. But, I snapped. They followed me for a while, both worried, but after assuring them I would be fine, I went out on my own for a bit.

My legs went on autopilot, and I began walking very slowly, in a straight line, from the back of Bonnaroo to the front. As I walked, I cried. I cried because Bonnaroo had lost it's magic. I cried because I knew that if the one thing in my life that I knew I loved, the one thing that I looked forward to all year long, was dead to me, then m life would fall apart. It's not that it was Bonnaroo, it's that it was my medicine. Bonnaroo is the only place where I can be myself, where I can love what I want, dislike what I want, and do what I want when I want it. It is the only place where I can be who I truly am. Bonnaroo feels like a magical place at night, where nothing is what it truly seems, but at the same time everything is exactly what it looks like. In those minutes, however, I saw everything become ordinary. The people were just that: people. The concerts were only music. The art: junk. I cried.

I needed Bonnaroo to keep it's magic, because seeing Bonnaroo as mundane for those few moments nearly reversed the revelations of my life as I had seen them earlier that night. Suddenly my life was bleak, I was no longer small, I was big again. It became such that everything I did felt important again, and I was so scared. I walked, eyes open, and forced myself to see the earth again, so large beneath me. I forced myself to feel small again. I forced myself to realize, calmly, serene, walking, that nothing I did mattered. I again found that I was only a tiny piece of the puzzle that makes up humanity, and that nothing I did mattered. Somehow, I was assured that to be happy, I only needed to feel happy. Nothing needed to make it that way, it is only will, and inner peace, that can bring true happiness.

I became okay with death. I thought that if I were to lie down on the grass, there next to the mist tent, near That Tent, and sleep forever, and die, that it would be okay. I knew that I wanted to do this, and that I wouldn't actually do it. I knew, that death was natural, and that if I were to die, I accepted that. If it is my time, then I am comfortable with this. I still feel this way, at this very moment that I write these words.

Arriving back at camp, I sat alone, and eventually one of the boys from Montana came and sat with me. Feeling oddly depressed, I welcomed his company, and we sat together in a camp chair to keep warm. His warmth, I noticed, was different from Flip's. Flip had an energy that was unlike anything I have felt. It may have been the drugs he was on, but I don't think so, because I felt it again, later.

Montana told me about his night, and I told him about mine. I told him that I was okay with dying, and that I knew how my life worked. I told him I knew I was small. He listened, and though he didn't understand, he was kind and compassionate. After a bit the conversation turned to other things, and the evening became normal, happy, and fun. We laughed and danced, acted like fools, and played with his lazer pointer. We stayed up until three or so, listening to Sasha from the camp, laughing at Flip and Blanche, who had returned, still enhanced. They were funny, and happy. Everything was somehow right.

On the bus on Monday I told Flip some of the things that happened to me. He knew. He said that he knew the reason he came to Bonnaroo was so that Blanche, He, and I could meet. I thanked him for initiating the changes that I experienced on Saturday night. When we got back to Michigan, I was able to help him as well, and things worked out well. Before Bonnaroo this year, I was completely comfortable with myself as a person. Now, I am still that way, but better. I am now comfortable with my life, as difficult as it may be, and I am comfortable with my death. I believe in Karma more than ever, and yeah, I still feel small.

So yeah, anywho.... that story went places I hadn't expected it to. All I wanted to do was tell you guys that I'm sorry for not staying at camp inforoo, but I am also glad that I did not. Flip was right, the three of us were supposed to meet, as weird as it sounds. Without him, (and Blanche, too) I would not have found the things I did.