Fading Fascination

I’m slightly surprised that I’ve adapted as well as I have. I shouldn’t be but it’s Friday morning now and the week is near over and I’m unscathed as can be. But my hair is absolutely disgusting, my skin is starting to itch, the heat is starting to wear me down, as is the lack of sleep. My BM high is starting to descend.

Perhaps it’s the growing familiarity of the roads and the camps and the art cars. Perhaps it’s the constant techno beats that drum all day and all night so that you fade into sleep to those monotonous beats only to wake up to them again as the tent starts to bake around 7:45am – the combination forcing you up regardless of when you went to bed in the hours before.

Perhaps all the sex talk, the nakedness, the porn, the less than subtle sexuality swirling around is starting to get to me. So much of it is just feeling like a thinly veiled shtick. Has my patience faded with the arrival of the weekend tourists, who are just here for the sex, the drugs and the party? Or did my growing defascination begin with dehydration and explode at the Burlesque/Porn show? Seriously? A porn show where the entertainers look bored with themselves? Trite and unoriginal, that’s my say. It bugs me when things are that unoriginal and forced. Sure, the humor can be amusing at first but then it gets pretty old, pretty fast. I mean anyone can take their clothes off. Well, okay, maybe not everyone can. God knows the minute my neckline is too low and I’m not wearing a bra, I get nauseous. One of my superhero weaknesses. And okay, not everyone can take a foot-long 3-inch wide dildo out and play with it in front of an audience of strangers. But if you’re going to do that….go all the way…put it in!

So, I am pretty unimpressed by it all. It’s just starting to feel like all of the porn, all the “scintillating” behavior is just for “shock factor.” There was the Chia Pussy tent, the Porn Dog Camp, the Breast Exam Group, the Oral Moistening Clinic, etc. Ha ha. Cute. Lightly entertaining but really show me something clever. Something my brain can chew on. Don’t just throw a boob or a penis at me, jiggle it around and then expect me to giggle with glee.

I’m not bothered by the naked people. The ones just hanging out, drooping, perking here and there, swaying in the dust storm with body paint and tassels. Good for them. They’re doing it for themselves because God knows that half of them aren’t doing it to attract others. I suppose the camps are doing it for themselves too but they’re exhibiting with a primary purpose of drawing people in. Oh heck, who am I kidding trying to justify my crotchetiness? Why am I so focused on it anyway? To solve this, all I have to do is seek out other things. That is what I’ve been saying all along. Just please, please, if you’re going to dance naked on a podium…at least smile.