Its too much

This year, I was lucky. Everything aligned, stars, planets, people and jam. The music and dancing, with fire, on sticks, on fire. And so, I wandered through fairyland with shooting stars and a prismatic lens. Everything was beautiful. I was there, when it all went down, up, around, over, under, and in between. We climbed up to the stars, through a field of grass, allowing music to traverse with us. I would say, I haven't come down from the clouds but I had sunshine, and Kahlua. We ran around -- tag your it. I was a hunchback, a muse. I traded around a campfire for sparkles. I still sparkle, but nothing is quite so sparly. The fire went out, as everyone left to go back to what they left behind. Except in their dreams. Which maybe it all was. Now, I'm dirty, I have three loads of laundry, I have to work tomorrow. But all the rest, its just too much responsibility. All faire I was haunted by ghosts of people who weren't there and some who were. I had the best time. Finally, I could trade for everything I could imagine. I found the stars, and eventually, the moon. Orion was overhead. As the stars when shooting through the sky I thought of all the ways it could be better next year. Now, here I am in another reality. Someone burnt my dancing stick and my pockets are empty.