Waking up at 630, dreaming about the World Cup
There was a comedian on stage, he was talking about his childhood. He was making some joke about nintendo cartridges, blowing on them, but it was just a curl of wire in his hand. Something happened and I was pretending to be someone on stage, a bunch of people were playing different roles, we were staff in a hotel lobby or people in some old saloon or something. A kid representing the young comedian walked in, and started betting money with this old guy, with a huge beard. The game was something like the kid gave him a dollar, then the old guy et him more, somehow the old man ended up with 300 in his hand. At some point we were looking at an old photo of this old man, beard huge and flowing past him, his arms all rope and skinny, sitting on an elephant, with a huge red cape draping behind him and hanging across the elephants back. There was a giant suitcase he was holding in the photograph, there were sayings scrawled on there that I forget. He was telling us how he’d traveled everywhere. At some point right before I woke up we got out of a small tent and looked out, we were in south America, and the mountains rose up like a gigantic tsunami wave, froth all biting into the clouds. We were looking closer at the mountains and could see the intricate patchwork of farms, all up on the mountainside. We saw the quilted patterns slowly resolve themselves into flags of countries, kind of pixellated and wrinkled from the topography. I realized we were here for the world cup, that we were in Rio or something, and they were finishing preparations by making the mountains into a giant world flag mosaic s Sent from a phone
