At that moment I began to write. The weekend grew upon its moments like a tidal wave. 

I did quite understand it at its inception per se. Nor appreciate the beautiful manner in which it unfolded, until the moment. The moment the band started to play. 

For that was the unifying catalyst, a Saturday night full of the drunken hedonism of young academics. For when the local tavern turns for a moment into a ballroom, it feels as if you have been able to integrate into the side of culture you once felt lost in. 

Opposed to a logical timeline, the moments in between the continuity, become the strongest ones.

Moments such as; 

When the dancing hat was truly loaded full of the spirit of the land. Lending confidence to those who it was placed upon.

The moments where someone was possessed by the spirit of a waiter frantically clearing the tables to make room for dance, as the plates got cleared from the table to remove the weight of the stomach on the mind.

As the social lubricant of various intoxicants began to enter us, and us them, a circle formed both literally and metaphorically around the PPE students. 

For a major often confused with personal protective equipment, each and every individual seemed able to strip away the burdens of class status and culture. Falling more in favor with the desire to belong in a group, no matter how strong the ties to cultural identity were when they arrived at this gathering.  

Frequently I found myself drawn upon the label “cringe” to describe this gathering properly. Yet in the end, it serves as the most apt,Yeah  yet incorrect categorization. 

As yes it appeared a fever dream shared by young professionals writhing against the currents of adulthood. 

And yes it appeared as a truly honest opportunity for one to find their place, (or even shed it if necessary). Lost amongst a sea of self-assigning labels and categories, it posed an opportunity to be the rawest we are deep inside and for others to know it.

So much like the rest of our stumbling pursuit of endeavors as young adults, this year’s PPE getaway was “cringe”. Yet in such a fashion it wielded and redirected the energies of the young to a perfectly positioned place.

There was beauty in the “cringe”. It spoke to the unrefined state of the students, as the rough edges of personality struck against each other, a gradual polishing of one-another was visibly in progress. 

The Getaway became a place of harmony between the intense struggle against the stresses of the re-world, and the creation of this new world. A world full of the shared dreamlike trance, brought upon and around us through shared intoxicants, including but not limited to: shit beer, homemade liquor, lust, a mysterious blue drink, haggled whisky, love, herbs of the traditional and electronic variety, desire, and companionship. 

But like all dreams, this one had to come to an end. Everyone began to awake from the stupor and as reality set in and took hold simultaneously as the 40 or so sophists hiked the once darkened path towards the bus. A silence enveloped the group. One that spoke volumes in regard to the quiet contemplation of the past present and dreaded future.