spanish sahara

Before Thursday, I had totally forgotten how exhilarating and mentally & physically stimulating going to a concert was. Especially going to a show of one of your favorite bands that you've been dying for YEARS to see. I was kinda nervous and worried that it was going to suck because I was going alone and was even thinking of just selling the ticket and gypping people's money off of this sold-out show. But I am so glad I didn't. It was such an adventure.I decided to finally take the F bus from Berkeley all the way to the San Francisco Terminal... and now I am such a fan. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge at 6 pm as the reflection of the sun glistened upon the waters while blasting music through my ears. Oh man, I was in love. At that moment, I didn't even care if I just got lost in San Francisco and didn't make it to the Great American Music Hall - I just wanted to risk and live. And the best part of the whole thing was I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared of being by myself. I wasn't scared of looking like a tourist. I wasn't scared of talking to people. For once, I didn't need to depend on anybody to be happy. I was free.

The concert, well, was fucking amazing in my very biased opinion. The Naked and Famous was good. Freelance Whales was adorable. And Foals just killed it. Yannis was just jumping on everything, climbing up the balconies, throwing random stuff at us, and crowd-surfing whenever he got the chance. The audience was wild; everyone was just dancing and jumping and pushing and shoving each other and no one gave a fuck. It was just you and the music and nothing else. It wasn't just a show, it was a feeling. I'm still reliving every single moment of the show in my head.

The ride back home was great too. Some middle-aged man with a nose and lip piercing on BART started hitting on me. I didn't want to be a presumptuous bitch and ignore him so I had a conversation with him. Honestly if there's one valuable thing I've learned in Berkeley, it's that you should never judge people by their covers. And you know what, he didn't turn out to be so bad. I wasn't attracted to him but there was something about him that just seemed genuine and harmless. He did end up asking for my name and number and though I was rather uncomfortable and gave him false information in return (kinda hypocritical, I know, I do feel bad), I still enjoyed the encounter.

Friday was a hike up to the Big C. Saturday was Cal Day (with The Dodos playing at Memorial Glade) where tabling and flyering was made easy with the flood of incoming freshmen and their families who have not learned how to reject you yet.

Then Sunday was Holi. Holy moly it was SO AWESOME! It was basically a gigantic wet orgy of colors. Everyone was just covered in layers of pinkish-brown gunk and you could barely recognize anybody. But once again, no one gave a fuck and just danced like there's no tomorrow.

Honestly words cannot even capture the euphoria I've been experiencing these past few days. I would never trade anything in for this feeling. I am so happy and fortunate to be able to live this.