A little Sad, A Little Lonely


I just wish that you were here to hold me.

Fell into the self-pity trap today.

Everyone has someone but me.


I hate that my head goes there.

I am just feeling a little isolated while everyone is out there building and hammering and setting up theme camps and getting their party on.

The event opens in eight hours and it’s already pretty crazy out there.

But I am not out there.

I am in here.

I am at camp.

I agreed to it.

The parents are in the middle of their longest shifts.

Dad went on shift today at 7:30 a.m. and is still working.  He had no breaks, no naps, cereal for dinner.  Mom started at 8a.m. and she is still working.  Although she did get a nap and I got an hour break mid day.  It is eleven p.m. right now.  Mom should be in by midnight or so, dad a little thereafter.

In that hour break, while mom napped with the baby,  I would have gone out and taken photographs, but my camera was in dad’s car and dad was all over the place, but never in the neighborhood.

I might have gone for a bike ride, but the wheel is flat.

Maybe, I thought, I should just take a nap.


You only have this hour, do something with it.

I am working now.

Not crazy work, but I am here, I am awake, I am tied to camp until mom and or dad comes back.  Dad is actually working fairly close to me so it’s not a huge deal that I am here and since I knew I was going to be in it I told my friends that I would not be out and about.

However, I am feeling lonely, the irony of being at Burning Man is that sometimes you can get really isolated.  And I also happened to have fallen into the expectations trap once again.  Which I had believed to have avoided really well, but fucking things snuck up on me today.

Too many couples cuddling around me in cute furry outfits.


Go away.

I want to be cozying up to some snuggle bunny.

I want someone to be holding my hand and making out with me.

Which is pretty much what I always want at Burning Man and I typically get bit by that expectation.

I have written of it again and again and again and frankly, I am tired of it.

“You will keep repeating the same relationship until you learn what you need to learn,” she said to me when I complained about my room-mate.

I can’t get out of this relationship, it is with myself.

I am stuck with me.

I write the god damn affirmations all the time, but sometimes those old records get slipped out of their dust covers and I am playing the I am so lonesome blues once again.

Really what it comes down to is that I am tired.

I have been working twelve days in a row, seven of which have been out here on playa, and the last two have been 8 a.m. to midnight or there about.

So, yeah, feelings, I am having them.

What I am doing, however, is just letting them happen.

And I am practicing good self-care.

I expressed that I really needed a shower, and I went and took one.  I got in a small nap today too.  The hour that I was free to wander about I ended up sitting down in a camp rocking chair and closing my eyes.  I accidentally fell asleep.

My intentions were to do something, but when the bicycle and the camera were taken away and I was left with nothing but myself, myself needed to sleep.

I certainly did not think I was going to do that, especially with the camp next door blasting old Snoop Dogg.

But I fell the fuck out.

And when the mom popped out of the trailer one hour later I startled awake and apparently I woke up on the wrong side of the rocker.

I was emotional, I still am, but it is passing.

And this is Burning Man, where the crucible is harsh and the layers get scrubbed down fast and the emotions are just there.

Part of being able to have these emotions, too, is that I am safe and protected and very well taken care of.  I have food and shelter, amazing shelter, hot tea, and shade during the day time, A/C when ever I need it.

Sometimes when I have everything I need I end up yearning for things I want, it’s somehow permissible to yearn then.

But truly, if I am not happy with what I have, why would more make me happy.

I like myself and I like that I can feel.

In fact, I am very lucky.

I am not checked out.

I am present.

Oh, so present.

Which is a gift.

The nice thing about having a good cry?

It’s done.

It’s cathartic and I usually feel hollowed out and clean and ready to be filled with joy afterward.  I am allowed to be sad, I am allowed to run the full gamut of feelings.

And they are feelings, not facts.

Which doesn’t discount my need to have them.

Thankfully I don’t stifle them anymore.  I have them, they go, and then I move forward.

There will be another 24 hours of really intense work–which is not quite that hard, more just that I am tired to it, I am here to be of service and I get to be a little cog in the machine that makes Burning Man go.

That is pretty special.

Tomorrow I will throw on my crinoline in acknowledgement of the gates opening and I will smile and gift my love and my strength and my grace.

I have plenty yet to give.

And a heart freshly washed with tears to open up to the sky.

One week down.

Two to go.

Hang on, it’s going to be an emotional ride.

It always is.

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