The Goat Truth

I did have the honor of finding and exploring the anus of truth. Although it was 4am in the morning and I could not think of a truth I needed to be answered, I found truth in the meaning of playa life from the friendly and open conversation with the Oracles (4 guys and 1 girl late on Thursday Night/Friday Morning). The oracles were in awe of the orange little glow stick that I had in my mouth although they did not see my 70’s prom outfit that I wore (I did lose my prom date that night…). After becoming one with the goat by pulling my pants down, I did feel that the Goat Truth had some mystical powers that guided me on my journey that night. For as much I wanted to keep my head up the goat’s ass longer, there were others waiting and it was time to go. I did give my oracles a gift of some miniature liquor bottles in which they gave me a sticker of the Goat Truth.

I did hold that sticker as a well-received and earned find on the playa. It held a certain meaning to me, and that night, which was one of the more misguided nights, the anus of truth gave me some direction. For how I would enjoy this memento for ages to come.

Just as I was to depart from the Playa late Monday Afternoon, I was in the final stages of a ceremonial sun shower in the middle of Justice Street with only a sparse amount of vehicles and humans still in eyes view. It was time to go, but I stretched out the shower and leaving the playa as long as I could. While getting my finds together, I came across my goat truth sticker and fond memories came to my mind. I put the stick on my dashboard so I could look over on my drive back to the bay and maybe find some of the truth I could not ask for that night. At one point I reached across my car and accidentally knocked the sticker off of my dashboard and I saw it float in the air as it exited my vehicle. I immediately realized what occurred and jumped out of my truck to retrieve my truth. As the burning spirit would have it, a gust of wind blew across the playa and before I even saw the sticker hit the ground, it had vanished. I looked all over the area under and around my truck to no avail. The gust of wind blew the truth away, it was no where in eyes view from my truck. For how can I lose the truth? It was just as easy as a simple wrong movement. I did fail in the ethos of “Leave No Trace”, albeit unintentionally. The truth was gone, blowing in the wind. Did my truth end up in a big bag of MOOP? Or maybe the truth is still blowing in the wind and maybe someday someone will find the truth and it will guide them in their journey. Or maybe the truth will spend eternity just blowing in the wind on the playa. I tend to think that the truth will always be blowing in the wind.

by Freshiedoug

About the author: Tales From the Playa

Tales From the Playa

Tales From the Playa are dreams and memories of events that took place at Burning Man, as told by participants. Submit your story here.