I went to Burning Man this year and got in touch with rage.
I consider myself a joyful person. I can be the life of the party. I put on a great show; I exist to entertain; I love to light up the dance floor.
And there’s a part of me that I never express, that I hide, that I keep behind a veil. And it’s mad as hell.
This was my fifth Burn and my first one in four years. I took a break because I didn’t believe in it anymore. Every year, I’d return to the default world renewed and raving about the ‘radical’ personal transformations I’d experienced on the…