Do I Stay?

by

Or do I go?

I just got back from the burn, where I was live, front and center, nothing between me and the man except a fire fighter in silver suit.

I was gifted an inner circle pass today.

Mom and I bundled up the baby in a little fur bear suit and walked out the 9 o’clock keyhole to the event.  She ended up leaving early, the baby was not taking well to being out late and with the noise and the constant attention being paid him was getting frustrated.

I however, was allowed to stay out.

And stay I did.

I did have a moment when I ducked behind my friend when a gas bomb went off within the base, but I held it out to the end and for the second year in a row, I actually ran around the fire with the crowd.

I also watched three fire fighter body check a runner to the ground and the entire group standing by applauded.

This was probably my favorite burn of the seven burns I have attended.

I loved the base, despite never actually getting a chance to go explore it before they closed it off. And it went up so beautifully.  I will be hoarse tomorrow from hollering my lungs out with glee.

And the fire works were fan-fucking-tastic.

I have not ever been down to the Aquatic Park in San Francisco for Fourth of July.

I don’t need to.

I get my dose of fireworks and heat tornadoes out here.

Fourth of July, even a good one like San Fran’s, pales in comparison.

The question is now this–do I go back out there?

There are still some art pieces I have not seen.

And I have a golf cart.

That in and of itself any other year would have had me flying out the door in a hot second, there would have been no question.

However, I have another week out here to nanny.

Do I break myself tonight?

I lost my shit yesterday from lack of sleep and hungry and lonely, do I get to that point again?

Then again, how many times is the man going to burn and how many times will I have a radio, a set of keys to a cart, and a safe place to crash-land when I get back?

I am tempted to just go out for an hour, take some photos and end up at the Flaming Lotus Girls piece, Xylophage, I have been out to it three times and each time it has been magical.

And there’s nothing like getting back to camp being blissed out from the heat and the relaxation of sitting in one place.

Plus, it is really good people watching and there will be some great people watching tonight.

I did get a good nap in today and I did meet up with some fellows, so I feel pretty grounded, but I did not have the best dinner.

The commissary closed early so that folks could go out to the burn, and I did not make it on time.

Dinner tonight was a 1/2 plate of raw broccoli with sunflower seeds (only thing left on the salad bar), a handful of peanuts and two apples.

And there will be no breakfast tomorrow–brunch, yes–but no food served until 10 a.m.

Dad has off tomorrow and mom is home now with the baby asleep and from what I can recall of our conversations, she is also off.

The pros feel like they are out weighing the cons.

I am drawn to the spectacle.

I don’t want to get crazy.

I don’t really feel like dancing.

I did get my groove on earlier when the mom came back and did some work from the trailer, I got an unexpected hour and a half to myself while the baby took his first nap of the day.

I wandered out and went to an ecstatic dance scene and shook my hips for a hot half hour.

That was just about perfect.

So, this would be to go out, because I can, and see a little more art before the event closes and the playa packs up its bags and goes back to the world, leaving a lot more moop then I have ever seen before out here, and an empty space to ride my bicycle around.

I have actually never stayed as long as we are going to.

Last year I left before Temple Burn.

Same with the year before.

I am usually in San Francisco Labor Day.

Hot, tired, dusty, a bit bent back and broken, but serviceable after a few days of bathing and multiple loads of laundry.

This year?

Well, mama’s still got six days to go, and a full week before I get back to S.F.

And who knows what will happen then.

That’s actually more of a mind fuck then anything else.

I can’t focus on doing any sort of planning for the move, I can barely see into what tomorrow will be like, let alone next week, or scheduling a move.

My friend tonight said, you’ve got peeps, it will all work out.

True that.

So, there’s nothing to be concerned about.

All I need to do, is take a moment to drink this cup of tea and ask the gods that be, what do you want me to do?

Give me a sign yo.

 

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