Flying Through A Train  I almost have volition. I'm in a plane with my housemate Glen Ryan. We're flying to Sydney. It's night. Breadcrumbs are dropped out each side of the plane to mark the runway. I'm in a train tunnel. I fly over the train tracks, two or three feet above them, hovering. A train or some object passes through my body. I am transparent or translucent. At some point a train comes and I duck to the side of the railroad tracks. It speeds by, emitting sparks. My mom's friend Mike Granson is there, yelling. I may go with an aborigine whom goes into a cave to paint. Something happens with sensual water.