I dreamt I was walking in a river and every stone was a beautiful
cuneiform picture communicating much but saying little.

Then I was at Burning Man -- downtown, and huge buildings made of
concrete. I walked into a museum of the most beautiful art, sculpture
and painting. Came out the other end and saw the edge of Black Rock City, beyond
it was a bustling default world city. "We must be in San Francisco
this year!" I thought. Then all the buildings began to collapse,
towers fall onto tents and sculpture statues domino tumbling until the
city lay in ruins, thousands trapped and dying. I fled into the
bustling city to find myself in southeast asia -- Thailand or Vietnam.
Knowing I'd be busted without a passport or id, I flee up the hill
towards the U.S. embassy in the distance. Wading through rainy ditches
and mud puddles, nearly run over by motorcycles, I labor on.

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