Dream Journal

Back to the hill. I remember some voice telling about how America stifled this team from. . . . Italy? Brazil? The team was playing a game in Berkeley’s stadium on campus. We had been walking on a busy city road asking people for change. It felt like the city atop the hill by The Tower. That’s where I was when I woke up earlier this morning. All this was just a subset of a larger plot. . . . The city sucks, anyways. It was part of some attempt to get “the city” to pay for something.

I have been bitter and angry as I’m falling asleep these last few nights.. Fear pictures of all kinds. Ugly.