To even more chants of “Fuck Kanye!” and past graffiti expressing similar sentiments, we rose to make the final trek down to Centeroo. By this point, I was walking with a significant limp due to the blister.

We wanted soap. Shampoo, conditioner. Flushing toilets. Running water.The highlight of the day for me was seeing my little cousin for about 15 minutes. That sounds like a pathetic amount of time, but we both had to work hard to make it happen. The thing is, we'd been contacting each other all weekend, but Bonnaroo is a hard place to meet up with people. Think about it: in an area with tens of thousands of people and so much going on, meeting up with people becomes a logistical nightmare.

Despite what seemed like the most intense heat we’d experienced all weekend, the festival still raged on all around us. As we walked through the grounds for the last time, I reflected on the sheer immensity of Bonnaroo, as well as the fact that, for the most part, attending the festival had been one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life.

We wanted the things we sat on to come with cushions.Leaving Bonnaroo was bittersweet. When we arrived at the hotel where we were staying later that night, however, it was hard to think of anything but the amenities we take for granted too often. We wanted soap. Shampoo, conditioner. Flushing toilets. Running water. We wanted the things we sat on to come with cushions.

Once there, we were all able to take showers, put on clean clothes, and head to the restaurant next door for a hot meal. And while all that was great, something was missing. People weren't walking by my tent, asking how I was doing, possibly stopping in to talk and have a beer – people were zooming by in cars, completely unaware of my presence or my purpose.

When I finally got to bed that night, I fell asleep with CNN on. It felt good to see the news again. At the same time, the content of the news made me wish I was back at Bonnaroo, away from the real world.
[Bonnaroo]