Oxegen...Schmoxegen?

   This is going to be quite deep and meaningful and depressing and not up to my usual extended hyperbolic anecdote standard, but sure feck yis all anyway.

   Now anyone who even vaguely knows me will know that a) I'm not there and b) that fact is killing me. Many people regard this as me being a drama queen and making a huge fuss about nothing, offering nuggets of exasperated advice along the lines of "There's always next year", or "Sure loads of people aren't going", or "The line-up's not great this year anyway". 

   Firstly, that one about the line-up riles me to the core. If only because my music taste is different. Besides, after a little outburst of  "BUT THE STROKES PEOPLE, THE STROKES" I can usually build a bridge and get over that one. 

   I think it's the "There's always next year". People aren't aware that my "next year" is going to be very different. I won't be as close to as many people in Kilkenny as I am at the moment. This year a lot of my friends are going for the first time, and their excitement is hard to bear. I know that I'll enjoy it if I do go next year, but when I'm sure that this is my year to go, titbits of friendly advice aren't going to console me.

   I'm not going to deny that I'm bitter, this blog is just trying to explain why. 

   There's gonna be mud, and there's gonna be rain, and bananas are going to explode in people's bags, and some of the acts will be shite live, and stuff will be stolen and burnt and ripped and destroyed, and, worst of all, craic will be had. 

   My imagination is my worst enemy. Lately it's been building me up for endless pit falls. In my head I've chosen my wellies, my acts, my food, my clothes and it's more than once daily I have to break it to myself that I'm not going.

   Basically, everytime someone mentions it, or there's an ad on the radio, or The Strokes come up in shuffle on my iPod, it's just a cruel reminder that I'll never be as close to everyone as I am now. So forgive me if I've been a spoiled shite of a yoke lately.

   I know this all sounds ridiculous, and I really hope it is. This feeling'd better scram once Monday rolls around, if only for the good of my mental health and the return of funny blog posts.