Travel Reference
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7 and people are screaming for me and I am letting it all out, it's flowing from me. I stop in
the middle and start jumping with the others. I jump and I scream and we chant and I jump,
I fucking jump higher and higher and release it all. I know Dan is here with me. I can't see
him but I know it. I raise my hands above my head and jump so I am facing different dir-
ections—all these people—all these people in white standing, waiting for me to get here, all
these people—20,000, 25,000, a million—cheering me on.
I look up at them, they look down at me, and we let it out and release it—and it all makes
sense—
This is why—
This is who I am, maybe it will change, maybe it—
Maybe there is a moderate amount of self-preservation revealed through a self-destruct-
ive—shut the fuck up and
jump!
I'm connected to people I don't know. I jump I fucking jump. A part of a culture so
foreign—immersion I've never known. Acceptance and capability—fucking whatever just
jump! And I don't feel proud, I don't feel brave, and I don't feel manly or deserving or for-
tunate—just yell and jump and turn in the air and see the white, the cylindrical wall of white
bodies enclosing me, centering me, thousands of white bodies building up and out above me
inthisstadium,thisbullring—hearthevolumeandjumpandyellanditflowsbackandforth,
me to them and back again, and I feel—
I just feel—oh my oh my do I feel.
