I had a strange dream last night: that I missed the burning of the man, and never got to see it:
Burning Man was set up indoors, almost like a college dormitory arrangement--there were cafeterias, escalators, etc.
I had a dorm room that I decorated. At one point, this young Asian guy who was in love with me snuck in my room and covered all my decorations with sheer, sparkly fabric that he had cut by hand--it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen, and I cried with joy and awe (it almost looked like a glittering 3-dimensional version of Van Gogh's starry night inside my dorm room).
Then, the event week passed very quickly, and I kept leaving "the Playa" (the dorm) to go into a nearby city and even to visit my mother.
Finally, someone said something about it being "time go back to Reno", and asked what day it was, and they said Sunday.
I was all confused and upset, and I said that I wanted to see the Man burn, and they told me that the Man had already burned, and I had missed it.
I was so scared and angry when I woke up, for a second I thought I had really missed it...
What is this quintessence of dust?