Monday, 8 May 2017

Best laid.

(I promise this is the last post about Burning Man for a while. Cross my heart.)
You can split yourself into two halves
One is watching while the other one reacts
You can play any part you like
Tell me who you want to be tonight

Close your eyes and take a breath and wait a beat
Open them and let it out and look at me
No really look at me
No really look at me
He's smiling unabashed, all his teeth showing. Crazy-excited. Stupidly, eagerly looking forward to taking me away. A pre-birthday trip for him. A bucket list for me. And as usual, Lochlan has no time at all for the naysayers, the cautious lot, the ones telling him it's a bad idea. This is familiar territory to him. He gets an idea for an adventure and everyone's on board, approves and encourages him until he tells them he's taking me with him.

I can't wait to throw fire with you again. 

I match his expression and let all of my teeth see the light too. We probably look insane in the darkness. We've been whispering for hours this morning. I keep falling asleep midsentence and then he stops whispering, talking normally and I wake up and jump right back into the conversation. I have no idea what we're talking about other than some vague promise that he's going to let me burn myself all to smithereens again, like he did at the beginning of our Freak Show turn, when we ended half our shows laughing hysterically with blackened fingers and noses and chins, singed hair and some sort of deathwish unfulfilled. He rejigged the whole thing into an x-rated/adults-only show, we upped our prices, found safety and depravity and sold out every single remaining night without a burned finger to be seen every again. We found our niche.

But since we'll be performing for free (or for food! Or maybe fireworks! Or GLITTER! as I see it) he'll let me loose with the torches too which means...

I have to practice.

(He's never going to let me practice.)

(Not in a million years.)

You don't need to practice. We'll wing it. It's like riding a bike. 

I can't ride a bike.

Oh yeah. Well, fuck.