This was written by a close friend of mine who sent it me cus she thought it was something I would like, what do you know? It was :P
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I've never been one for festivals, the noise and crowds terrify me. So I was naturally panicking when you took me by the hand and led me through the gate into the biggest crowd I have ever seen in my life. Twenty-five thousand people milled around a tiny stage, completely dwarfing it. I couldn't see any faces beyond about fifty metres away, it was just a blur of colour and noise. I began to wonder if my drink had been spiked or something, this attack on my senses couldn't actually be this vibrant. I had no idea who was on stage, and most of the crowd probably didn't either. The people I could make out near me looked like they were on a cocktail of drugs, and were just enjoying the noise and people.
My heart was beating fit to burst, and the hand gripping yours with such fear was clammy and cold. If you'd looked into my eyes, you would see the pupils were dilated to such an extent that the iris was practically non-existent. I was shaking so much that I resembled someone with advanced Parkinsons, my jaw was set into a death mask, and I wasn't sure if my bladder would hold out under this much stress, yet I felt strangely alive.
You turned back to face me, eyes dancing. You opened your mouth, but the crowd drowned out whatever you said. I nodded and attempted a smile, probably looking like some Frankensteinesque monster. Your eyes laughed and you dragged me onwards.
The crowds seemed to go on forever, but eventually they started to thin, and we could see trees, fields, a river in the distance. The noise gradually died down as we continued, but never comepletely vanished. The muffled throb of the music was to be my lullaby for the two nights.
Not too far away from the crowds was the temp encampment. Hundreds of tents, of all shapes, colours and sizes, dotted the horizon. Great twelve-man tents mingled with tiny scraps of material that seemingly wouldn't sleep one man. Even though it was fairly far away from the main crowd, it was still buzzing with activity, like a hive on red alert. People scurried between tents, carrying pots and pans, food and drink. Groups of intimidating-looking youths lingered around, looking for trouble. Flushed faces, red with the exertion of screaming at the stage, passing us as their owners dragged themselves to their tent for a few hours kip.