A night of not sleeping across the desert, then a morning of sleeping in the grass across the street from Union Station in L.A. A movie was being filmed. I think I’m in it, as a sleeper in the grass. Sleeper in the grass #3. Then on the train a man from India named Tushi wanted to buy me a beer, and he wanted to buy a beer for a man from China named Wei and a man from Sweden named Fredrick too, and the four of us drank through the hills of San Luis Obisbo. And then Tushi wanted to buy me, Wei, and Fredrick a second. And so we let him. I have money, he said, and I don’t count it between friends, he said. And so he bought us a fourth. And then a seventh. Then he said he was proud of me, that he wishes he were my father. He also said I was spoiled and that I didn’t understand true authority, whatever that means. At one point he put his hands in Wei’s hair. He put his head in Fredrick’s lap. Thank you for all of the beers, I said, but please excuse me. Later he took my computer while I was writing and said he wouldn’t give it back until I drank another beer with him. You can have my computer I said. I don’t want another beer. A woman started showing me her crystals. She said she was part crystal. The next day I was on a different train from Sacremento to Green River, UT, the one where they tell you all about the Donner Party right after they tell you to come eat the hot dogs. I bought a hot dog and looked out at the frozen lakes and mountains. I thought about what that must feel like, to eat everyone you’ve ever loved.