Have you ever been to a party so enthralling that when you get home, you can’t adjust to your boring walls and your boring cat?
You just spent three days to a week looking at art, listening to your favorite music and connecting with like-minded weirdoes when suddenly your high crashes to the ground when the person behind you at the gas station with the huge truck and Trump sticker goes agro and screams at you to pull up a few feet.
You close your eyes and wish you were back at the fest that brought you so much joy.
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