No Ticket to Burning Man

With all the fire and mayhem that exploded under the hood, no feeling would be more hellish than getting to the gate, flying high on momentum, and acid, and pride, to be denied, from what I lacked. A ticket. Emblazoned by silver filaments that shimmered the rainbow undertones of water slickened gasoline, a robotic hand gently entered the frame, index finger extended, and reached down to playa earth, palm softly spiraled open. 'Admit One Being’, written in fluorescent circuitr...y, was printed at the base, and dazzling artistry faded into the distance. This was the beautiful pass I was without. We barreled down American highways as I wrestled with reason and good sense, at times losing hope. I felt like an astronaut braced to die and burst to flame on a blind leap to an alien world. All this belief is meaningless! Manifest a ticket on the road? What a fucking joke! How could I have thought this was a good idea. When I gave these thoughts voice, my friends would intone to me the phrase they repeated with sagely assurance. Trust the process. Little did I know how much this process would shape my odyssey. The gravity was great, the pull, a force of nature; I was bound to land on Burning Man, that cyclone on a robot star, crash and burn. See more

That one time I had no ticket to Burning Man