During the course of the night, I had consumed alcohol, energy drink, marijuana, half an ecstasy pill, a few swigs of acid water, and some of a mushroom shake. It was now about 9 am, and I was feeling pretty good, although I'm not sure if I was high on anything but the music. (Well, maybe just a little of the E.)
The Full Moon Party, the island's headline event, had sifted out, like grains of sand, all the trendy jetsetting flashpackers and beer-chugging pool party kids. As the ivory orb waned, all that remained was the solid core of misfits, hippies, stoners, lovers of psychedelic trance, and yours truly. And the locals, of course.
We were the leftovers and, though the sun climbed ever higher, we still weren't done yet. Someone went to wake the DJ. A couple of puppies, in their boundless youthful energy, flung sand everywhere as they wrestled across the beach. And we in ours flailed our arms and stomped our feet on the terracotta tiles of Ban Sabaii. The DJ smiled at us from inside his booth.
Meanwhile, a local woman sat on the beach in ragged clothing and watched us dance. The lack of expression on her face made me wonder what she thought of us. I suddenly became self-conscious. I didn't feel like dancing anymore. I lay down in a nearby hammock and fell asleep.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVyIx7eHXzU&feature=related
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