as soon as i heard her line “pussy put his ass to sleep now he callin me NyQuil” i knew i was listening to Art
friend: u high?
me: *reacts 10 seconds later* the fuck? no bitch
What is it that keeps us coming back? Every summer we put our bodies and minds on the line to be a part of something great. We endure the yelling, the running, the reality checks, the tears, the mental break downs, and the people who get on our last nerve.
We work 15 hours a day just to sleep on a hard ass gym floor, but we can’t stay awake long enough to notice the discomfort. We wake up in the morning barely able to move, then we run, and it takes us to a whole new level of hell.
You’ll find us in quiet corners of stadiums or bus floors, just losing it because it’s so hard. God, is it hard. It’s the kind of hard that cannot be explained, but only endured.
The problem with explaining this activity is that it only sounds like horrible abuse to normal people, and it is. But the secret is to find the moments where the world expands into a single second, slowing and morphing around you to form what could be said to be a miracle.
You’re there with these 149 people and goddamn it’s just you and them creating this new lifetime within 100 yards. It’s just you and them giving off the most ridiculously badass vibe imaginable while making thousands if people go absolutely out-of-this-fucking-world insane.
Where the fuck do you think that beauty comes from? It’s you. It’s me.
That’s why we come back. To make beautiful things. To feel beautiful things.
To be beautiful.