I put on earrings. For the first time in years. I wore a skirt. I got dolled up. Ok. The hippie in me manifested. But I tried. And I swore I'd never do this again. Dragging the killjoys along who don't know. Don't understand. But here I am. Squished in with a Passell of 15 year olds and my friends are back against a safe dark wall. Rolling their eyes and pretending to be patient. Maybe next time I will make them pay for their own tickets. It's not like I expected them to understand. I don't. But I'm stupid enough to think that something that brings me so much joy would be fun for them. Wrong again. Story of my life. Always wrong. Oh well, maybe next time I will Remember why coming to shows is usually better alone. I was just tired of being alone. I still am. Alone and tired of it.