The Temple of Dysonism

One Word; And It’s Over

It’s a bloody odd one. Ever since me and my band of mates went to Reading Festival last year, I’ve been fairly set on the idea of not going this year. We’re all considering it - last year was simply not as pleasant as we had hoped it would be, what with the constant rain and placement of our tent. We were all pretty miserable and trying to find fun was tough when there was mud literally everywhere. Hindsight would have been a wonderful thing, to possibly sell the tickets or not have bothered going might have been the better option.

Or would it? I’ve just taken some time to look back at the photo’s that some of the people we were with took over the weekend and every single one of them is filled with us having a great time. There are moments of silliness, in which we might be laughing with each other. There are also moments of pure joy and connection with each other and the music, which you just don’t get anywhere else. And that is what we went for.

It’s easy to look back and claim it wasn’t much fun, but if that were the case why would we want to remember it with these photos and memories? And why oh why would I have such a yearning to go again this year?

I look down at my wrist right now and see three different wristbands. The gold band symbolises my first ever festival, the one that got me going and set me free. I’ll never forget it. It’s been there for 2 and a half years now and it’s not going anywhere any time soon. The black band shows off another year of festivities and fun, and reminds me of many happy times seeing bands I loved with people I loved: the essential festival experience. The newest, purple band which is a remnant of the last Reading Festival is the only one to have its tail left on (the other two have been burnt down in order to stop the length generally getting in the way of things) for the reason that I simply haven’t gotten around to cutting and burning it yet. But the point is, it’s still sitting there as a trophy, a reminder of the fun times that were had in Little John’s Farm on Richfield Avenue in the past three years running.

It’s easy to look back and claim it wasn’t much fun, but if that were the case why would we want to remember it with these photos and memories? And why oh why would I have such a yearning to go again this year?

We shall see what the plan ends up becoming regarding festivals this year. As it stands, I am in a good position to do anything. We have spoken about going to Amsterdam, or possibly going to another Festival but there have been no concrete plans (or even paper-thin for that matter) made at this time. Everyone else is at University right now and probably has better things to do than plan their fun and holidays, but that’ll all change soon, certainly as the setlist reveals start taking place. And they’ll all be begging to go somewhere and do something. So let’s see about changing that shall we?

As a bonus, this is my favourite photo memory from all the festivals we’ve been to so far:

2010 - I love this photo. At the end of a disappointing evening, we all decided to head to the Silent Disco after wanting to go for the past three years. We finally get in, enjoy ourselves, and leave after an hour or so. But this photo shows all of us pretty much in our element - at a festival, with awful hair, obviously tired from wading through endless pools of mud but still partying and genuinely enjoying ourselves. Rock on.