It's like you're waking up in a playground for the gods being serenaded by the song of a fire-breathing robot while the smell of tacos wafts through your nostrils, and all of your best friends are there with you to laugh yourselves to tears at absolutely nothing.
In other words: Life at Vertex Festival > Real life. Here’s why:
Serendipity pulses from the moment you arrive and find yourself camping with a friend you made eight years prior and haven’t seen since. When the realization of the cosmic connection becomes incredulity from the mention of an arbitrary city name, a fire ignites in a place deep inside you that you thought was long forgotten - and suddenly it is as if no time has passed and you feel like you’re exactly where you're supposed to be.
Colombian cold brew is plentiful, somehow seems to mean more to you than usual. Time only exists so you can figure out how to see all the music needed to fill your soul and burst before morning so you can repeat the feat the next day, and when your neighbors drop gems of wisdom like “Test your drugs, not yourself,” you make friends for life.
You can run into literally every girl you’ve hooked up with off of Bumble, and the only awkward moment is when you try to explain to your crew how it wasn’t awkward to see your last internet ex. Your points of reference are a blow-up seahorse and martini glass tied to a flag pole. A waving Rasta banner lets you know you’re at home when you see that it reads “Bud Smokers Only,” and your biggest worry is whether you’ll have enough CCB for the beach party and Odesza's set.
The police are ever-present, but seem more like decoration than intimidation. The K-9 unit is still a pup so you say “Aww!” rather than “Naw!” The fit couple on the blow up mattress in the middle of the lake giving the after-partiers a worthy show are revered as heroes, and stories of the most adventurous sexcapades of the weekend spread through camp like wildfire.
Vertex Festival life lets you be who you need to be when real life makes it impossible. At a gathering like this, you’re not the corporate drone that your business card tells everyone you are – You’re just a man in a Wilfred costume who makes best friends with the guy in the ice cream cone suit when you both discover each other’s mutual admiration for Gucci Mane after a sleepless night in the warmth of the sun as it rises out from behind the mountains in the distance.
...And when the pain of reality sets in while you’re staring at your computer screen months later, you’re left with memories of a simpler life to bring you back to the reality you’d rather be a part of. This is everything you ever wished summer camp could be and so much more - and if you don’t believe me, be sure to get your ticket to Madison House’s Vertex Festival in Buena Vista, Colorado next year and experience it for yourself.