Dear Outdoor Concerts,
As much as it pains me to write this, I feel that I cannot go on without letting you know how I truly feel. Perhaps I have changed with time, though I don’t really want to give you the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ spiel.
We haven’t been dating long; I guess our first outing together was Rockit in 2006 at Joondalup; and you know, I had a lot of fun that day. But since then, I’ve found it progressively harder and harder to enjoy myself with you. I’ll admit I’ve been a bit of a late bloomer, but the short time we’ve been together doesn’t make what I’m about to say any less painful.
My biggest gripe is not so much you, but the people that you hang around with. Those arrogant, ignorant self centered types who have no other interest in life but their own oblivion. I can no longer stand idle while they writhe their hedonistic beings through your grass covered slopes wanting only to capture their own image or speak only of their own endeavours or pursuits at the expense of the one thing that brought you and I together; the music. I’m sick of wading through the filth they deposit on muddy ground, of having them bump constantly into for the fact they can’t even control their own bodies. The fact that you do nothing to dissuade these people only further infuriates me. I thought we had something, you know?
I’m also pretty sure I can no longer ignore your alcohol problem. You seem to have a real issue with control in this regard; as soon as I come to see you you’re drinking, and even through to the last throes of the evening, you’re still imbibing. You tell me you need it to have fun, but, is that really true? Can’t we have fun just hanging out? You, me, and the music?
It saddens me to have to turn my back on you. I think you have so much potential; if only you could find a way to change some of your ways and maybe keep some of those people you call ‘friends’ out of my sight.
Until that day comes, and to be honest, I’m not even sure you want to, I’m afraid that I can no longer see you. I realise that in some cases it will be as much me as you who suffers from this departure, but I’m prepared to miss out as a defiant stance to make you realise that you have to change. That you need to fix these things about you that are driving me and people like me away.
I hope we can still be friends. And maybe, one day, we can see each other again.
Yours, truly for the music,
Ben.
