My first concert took place in the middle of the desert. Some odd music festival where big-name rappers and rock bands decided to come together and perform in the center of a random NASCAR racetrack. The day was filled with energy drinks, loud music, and people who looked like they just crawled out of some music hole filled with dark makeup. As the night progressed, the heat roared. I remember the performers spraying water all over its fans. The crowd literally craved any kind of liquid as the relentless infinite mosh pits allowed no escape. I surveyed the crowd and surrounding buildings, without seeing any vendor or water station. I began to panic as I could feel hallucinations and dizziness from dehydration. I can remember girls dropping like flies. Crowds seemed to wave as more and more people passed out. I could hear the ambulances.
Or was that the music?
Why was everyone still dancing in this battlefield?
People enjoyed this?
I needed water. The music needed to stop. My knees began to wobble. The lights began to get bright and foggy. Is this what fainting feels like? I remember sprinting from the front row out to the back. I didn’t even care who saw my best-friend being my inhaler. I ran and ran until I could breathe.
Maybe I crowd surfed?
As long as I didn’t crawl.
Just needed water! I bought maybe 10 bottles and gulped them all down. The desert is a dangerous place. These music festivals are too crazy. Too many people and too much exhaustion.
Phillip Torres is a student at SJSU.
The Bolt Magazine 