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What's on stage may get better every year, maybe not, but the festival itself gets worse. There's more walking, dust, sunburn, dehydration, drug abusers, surveillance, and pointlessness. The average person spends $2,500. That's an average, the glampers and out-of-towners who come from farther than LA, OC, and SoCal probably drop much more. There's no unity, no Woodstock vibe, no rave feel. This is a giant super massive, not nearly as good a party as EDC in Vegas. There's much more to see than what's on and around the overcrowded main stage. But pretend that's what "Coachella" is and thank the stars you're not here to be disillusioned and disenchanted. Dream on from home. PTSD-Ariana was not worth the wait to get back on a bumper-to-bumper highway back to Los Angeles. But it's spectacle. What does anyone who's actually come expect? Pay your money, and leave your idealism at home. There's not even hooking up on a large scale. So if all this endless walking around sounds good, see you next weekend.
Here are the glossy and illusory "highlights" to party on.
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