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.