 
Most experiences we tend to remember are usually made up of instantaneous moments that happen and end before we even get a chance to truly enjoy them. For that reason, our memory serves as a reminder that we actually did experience those things, but sometimes those memories play out more like a dream rather than real events. Before I knew it, I was back from The River, away from the impromptu community of festival- goers and back my desk trying to hold onto the feelings that engulfed me all weekend. I wanted to still be overlooking the festival from my campsite, a collection of flickering flames and joyous murmuring, or to still be able to smell the sweet scents of overwhelming freedom or even blissfully swimming in the river with a special friend. It hadn’t even been more than a couple of hours since I had left, but there I was longing to remember how I felt. Now don’t get me wrong, the drugs might definitely have something to do with t, but shit just wouldn’t of been a party without them. For instance, I couldn’t tell you Damian Marley’s set list in order, but I can surely telling how great I felt dancing with this really cute girl while he was on. Trust me, things were just as good. In fact, things were so intense that at times I had to close my eyes just so I could re-open them as a reminder that I was still awake. So many times throughout the weekend I found myself not wanting to forget certain moments, so much so that I began to consciously register them in hopes that I could remember them just bit more vividly. Still, there I was at my desk, deprived of sleep and energy, longing for those experiences that were very quickly fading, appearing in my head with a clouded layer like an old 50’s T.V. show. I’m positive that every year someone has the time of their life at The River while another is disappointed by its increasingly commercial tendencies. I spoke to people with both views and I‘m sure they’re both right. In any case, these kinds of experiences are what you make of them. Early on, I decided that my weekend would be filled with memorable moments and I couldn’t of done a better job. Before I left, Splff Skankin’ told about a certain vibe that comes out if one allows themselves to let go and respond to it. He was right as well. We have options in the way we take everything in, though we don’t always feel that way. Our potential to create something truly blessed is something that is hardly taken advantage of. Playing out the weekend in my head as I strolled through my job, I found joy in the fact that I was able to extract some of that potential from inside myself and revel in its essence. A thought that was quite uplifting since my work desk was the furthest thing from that feeling. And though, my memory will continue to fade in dream-like visions and bad times always follow the good, for just a few moments I felt victorious in knowing that basically… I fuckin’ made shit happen. Until next Year.
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What
The River Means to Me