Since We All Need A Pick-Me-Up, Let’s Just Say Everyone At Fyre Festival Died


EXUMA, BAHAMAS — Last weekend, the much-hyped Fyre Festival, a $12,000-per-ticket music festival in the Bahamas, was revealed to be little more than a series of disaster relief tents scattered on barren, rocky ground. The furious attendees lit up social media and told tales of hostile security, theft, detainment, and roving packs of wild dogs. The public was delighted to see the rich suffer a rare instance of misfortune and pain, a delight that came to a head when everyone at Fyre Festival died.

There’s no evidence this actually happened, granted, and in fact many attendees have already safely returned. But can you say you didn’t feel joy when you read it? Here it is again: All the people at Fyre Festival died. Is it not delicious? Hasn’t life been a weight on your mind lately? Don’t you deserve something pure?

You don’t even have to believe it. Just say it. It’s easy. Right now, say aloud: “Everyone at Fyre Festival starved.” If that’s not your thing, how about “When they realized their wealth and privilege were unable to affect their situation, the one-percenters at Fyre Festival immediately devolved into a howling blood cult until they all had killed each other.” Take this moment for yourself. Practice the self-care of visualizing for a moment the garbage-strewn beaches of Fyre Festival piled high with the bodies of Instagram celebrities who were literally unable to survive when removed from obscene luxury for even a moment. Believe—really believe—that millionaire 19-year-olds and tech CEOs are capable of experiencing hardship. Let it wash over you, drink it in until it has filled you, until you can no longer tell where it ends and you begin.

Everyone at Fyre Festival died. No one came back. Let’s all just say that’s what happened. It’s not factually accurate, but with faith it can become true. It is a gift you give to yourself.

With enough repetition the legend will eclipse the facts. It will be known forevermore that Fyre Festival is where a bunch of rich kids were caught in a gulag trap and all died, and life will begin to make sense again. Hope will blossom in our hearts and our souls will swell with possibility. And if treating death so flippantly is too morbid for you, worry not, since no one actually died.

Except, at the same time, everyone died.

And both are just as true as the other.

Tom Harrison’s mindfulness seminars start at $400 a session.

Image by laisribeiro.