short mountain

I spent the last week in the mountains of Tennessee at Short Mountain for Beltane with a bunch of radical faeries. It was amazing. I had a really beautiful time, spent most of my time there stoned, and because of that (or perhaps in spite of that) had really beautiful encounters with people from all over and with the woods and for a brief moment with a one Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. The experience far exceeded any expectations I had set for it and I am a different person right now and really hope that I can hold on to this mental state that I am occupying for a while. I want to somehow convey my experiences there but a week is a lot to compress and I am starting work again tomorrow morning again at the Wall Street Transcript and so should not try to say all, whatever that may even be, and so in brief:

Chinatown bus to Nashville, fifteen hours, half-filled, only non-Asian person on bus, slept intermittently the way there, seat uncomfortable. Arrived at airport and ran into some other people who were obviously going to the gathering and waiting for a ride out to Short Mountain, all of these boys very nice, and already I was having what would occur for the entire trip - really pleasant encounters with strangers, being open and warm and unarmed with attitude. One of these boys was Evan, a really cute boy who laughs in a way that reminds me of Kit, who acts a bit like him in other ways. I was drawn to him right off. Nice semi-romantic moments would occur with him later with him commenting on a purple bow tie I had fashioned for myself from ribbons from last year's maypole, how I was a present for someone to unwrap, and me asking for who. Fast forward a few hours later to me complaining about the bowtie itching and how I was going to take it off, and him asking if he could untie it, me exchanging looks with him to see if he was aware of the implications of him untying/unwrapping the thing. He was. He untied it and we made out, something I had been wanting to do since I saw him at the airport.

Most other interactions, sexual ones, were not like this, were not fraught with what ifs and maybe, but just occurred. Lots of physical affection that easily bled into making out, massage, or dick sucking, all of it quite lovely and liberating, the ease with which it occurred and the lack of stigma or drama attached to the thing, just a nice, pleasant getting off with nice, pleasant people.

The only other extended flirtation was with this boy Brandon from San Francisco. He was really cute in a familiar way also, reminding me of someone so specific, someone I have still yet to name, but someone. And after flirting with him a bit for days, we ended up getting stoned in my tent and getting off with each other, the encounter really lovely and something that I still thought about today even while masturbating.

The actual rituals themselves that occurred, the cutting and burning of last year's maypole and the raising of a new one, the offerings (jizz) placed into the hole of the new one - all of that really stirred me also. I got really into the symbolism of the rituals and burned things from last year I wanted to leave behind and thought about things, intentions, I would like to see realized in this next year. I thought about a lot of things there and feel really freed from a lot that had been bugging me, feel also really in love with people and again have interest them in, again have interest in happiness and sincerity and many good things.

And this doesn't say a lot, and it doesn't because I am tired, because I rode a bus back from Nashville for eighteen hours totally packed, because I just split some pitchers of beer with Niki and Ethan in Greenpoint at the Palace, and because also I am not sure how to say these things thought and felt that are experienced outside the realm of language, these really strong feelings, and to convey them via language, am not even sure that would be that beneficial, that I get it now (or think I do) is enough, is all.