causers of this | tyler, the creator [+18] | semi-hiatus (???)

trouble on my mind

Tyler smiled and ruffled my freshly dyed hair, making me swat and dodge his hands.

His Coachella performance had him on a high, ready to transfer his hyper energy on any victim within arms length but I honestly didn't mind. I knew he was happy to have finally debuted some new songs that were coming soon from his new album Cherry Bomb on stage, and the crowd was hype about the new material. Tyler's happiness was infectious.

"Fuck, I knew Deathcamp was gonna be wild! Yo, look at this nigga right here! He losin' his fuckin' mind haha, oh shit." Ty pointed out, laughing and taking his phone out to take a video of the guy in the crowd.

I laughed and stole some sour gummies and a water from his runner.

Backstage, there were white vinyl tents covered in fairy lights, white couches and bean bags inside along tables full of food. Performers with entourages of people in really expensive outfits who felt like they were so important swarmed around us with their noses in the air.

When did Coachella become this?

Needless to say, us and our weird outfits stuck out like sore thumbs.

We were in his tent waiting to leave for the night. Along the desert trail we were about to take was a house he rented out while we were in Indigo for the next few weeks. Clancy and Tyler were watching his set back on a monitor before we left to make sure everything was cool and nothing needed to be adjusted for the show next weekend.

Watching him violently go back and forth from jumping around to focusing on the details of his performance had to be some of the wildest shit ever. Tyler had to be the only person I knew that fully committed to the way his music made him feel but also 100 percent to his brand, which could sometimes result in that type of organized chaos. He was content, that was for sure - his joy was contagious and eventually made everybody dance and recite lyrics all over again like we hadn't already experienced the show. I took a picture of him mid-jump and shared it on Twitter.

@outrvge: this guy got waaaay too much fuckin energy lmfao help us all pic.twitter.com/d6KsI

"Woo! Thank you to all you niggas who helped me create a good ass show. BUT I am fully hyped on making more music. I am ready to retire Yonkers for fucking GOOD." He commented towards the end of the video with his hands up in the air, making everybody laugh.

Once it was over, he scribbled some of his final notes onto a napkin he found nearby and handed it to Clancy, who made sure to pass the message along to the festival set designers.

After that, Vil took the group of us to where our transportation was scheduled to pull up.

@outrvge: i just checked the weather app and i just.... why the fuck is the desert cold?!

@outrvge: ...no forreal tho. is the desert supposed to be cold?! fuck global warming

"It's fuckin' freezing out here, T." I muttered and tied my bandana over the lower half of my face, protecting myself from breathing in dust while looking up at him and rubbing my arms as comfort from the desert chill.

I always hated when the sun went down in the valley. It was beautiful and warm and breezy and welcoming during the day, but who knew desert temperature at night could be this brutal.

And honestly I was not dressed for nighttime in the desert, looking like a piece of aluminum foil next to him in an iridescent, back out maxi dress with thigh slits and matching creepers. I'd been getting compliments all day though.