What should have been our blissful three days child free, hearing the beautiful sound of the waves dancing on our delicate boat - but here i was, hell.

When being told we would be reliving our youth, a music festival would have been the last thing to ever cross my mind. 3 nights staying in a dinghy tent, squashed like human sardines is definitely not my idea of fun

The ecstasy filled lights flashing so forcefully against me. My eyes trying to shield themselves from the pain that would be inflicted onto them. Having to over ride there natural instincts to defend from such a awful reality.

Southern tamandua known for the potent smell that lingers from its short mattered hair. So vile but i beg to differ if this hellish hole could beat it. The rancid smell of urine couldnt go unnoticed for a start. I breathed in. Coughing up my lungs couldn’t get the bones of this retched smell to leave my body. I need clean air.

Echoing through my eardrums was the screeching sound of what this ‘messed up generation’ calls music. Pounding through the ground the music grew taller and taller. Bellowing over me. I need to get away.. not that anyone could hear me if i tried to tell them. Speakers that are making the ground shake more than a 10 mag earthquake experience.

Try to escape the glaring claws in which i was held by the crowd… i need to get to safety