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to the Elysian plain…where life is easiest for men.
No snow is there,
nor heavy storm, nor ever rain,
but ever does Ocean send up blasts of
the shrill-blowing West Wind
that they may give cooling to men.
— Homer, Odyssey
"In no fix'd place the happy souls reside. In groves we live, and lie
on mossy beds, By crystal streams, that murmur thro' the meads: But pass
yon easy hill, and thence descend; The path conducts you to your
journey's end.” This said, he led them up the mountain's brow, And shews
them all the shining fields below. They wind the hill, and thro' the
blissful meadows go.
— Virgil, Aeneid
— Virgil, Aeneid
I had a very vivid dream on Friday night that there were buffaloes running fast in fields of flowers along the side of rolling mountains. As far as the eye could see, there were mountains covered in flowers, with occasional groves of trees. The buffalo in front of me was in lavender, but there were also white and red flowers in patches nearby. It was so beautiful and sunny. I ran behind the buffalo on a flat strip of flower-covered land sticking out from the side of the sloping mountain. It felt so good to run! I felt fantastic, and so happy and light. I ran faster and faster in the beautiful flowers. A voice in my head said "Elysian fields," and then the dream ended.
Last night on Sunday I dreamed that someone told me, "Your writing is disconnected from the power source." I was offended, and then I woke up in pain.
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