||[Sep. 28th, 2002|09:49 am]
Wacky dreams last night.|
One in particular: I walked up a dusty trail-sort of thing to the top of some hill/mountain. Walked back down, and there was a fucking beautiful sunset along the way. The way it appeared was equally impeccably cinematic; walking along the path uphill for a slight bit, the rock in front of me descended in my field of view, revealing the wash of reds and purples and yellow-tinged blue sky. I did have to shield my eyes from the brightness of the sun, even though it was behind clouds. I tried to make a note of where the location was was (the second big ledge/clearing thing) so later I could experience it the same way, not realizing that I was in a dream. Anyway. There was a tremendous amount of graffiti on the way down, but I didn't notice it on the way up. Things painted on rock faces, things carved into them, things carved into random huge chunks of dark green plastic lying on the side of the trail, etc. Much of it was in english - and not standard graffiti-like things of tags and "fuck you", but full sentences, not that I can remember any particular ones now - but some of it seemed coded somehow. The descent was really fun, apart even from the visuals. There were alternating patches of level and inclined trail, and I was able to run and jump onto the inclines and skid down their low-kinetic-friction-dustiness perfectly, with an expertise that I would hardly be able to ever manage in real life. When I got to the bottom, though, there were three (perhaps high-school-age) kids on horseback with knives who stated their intent to kill me. I panicked. How would I ever make a name for myself in the history of math/cs/etc. if I was dead? I didn't even have any brilliant semi-finished notes like Galois had, sitting back in Wean somewhere. I whipped out my wallet and tried to offer them money. I only had three $20 notes, and an expired bank card. Just as they announced that they really needed about $5,000 to pay their utility bills, I woke up.