Good morning, everybody.
I was among a small series of rooms with a few other people. The rooms were brick walled, kind of half-finished looking. There were some occasional incandescent bulbs lighting the rooms. The furniture was maybe just benches jutting out from the walls.
There were two women sitting on the benches along the back wall of the back room. They were getting ready for some kind of stunt, which was probably also part of an art project. They were just about ready to head off.
But a third woman off to my left stopped the women. She said the stunt the women were about to do was very dangerous. Before the women did the stunt, the woman needed to make sure the women had signed the contracts waiving any liability the third woman's organization might have.
The women, I now knew, were actually wearing their contracts. The contracts were a kind of netted bodysuit. The netting was made of a coarse, yarn-like material colored a dark red-pink. The netting made diamond patterns, the holes of which were rather wide. But the material squeezed tightly against the women's bodies. I think the women were wearing other clothing, though not much, below the netting outfits.
The contracts, I knew, would be visible when the outfits were taken off and unfurled. Between some of the holes in the netting ran some gauzy billows of material. These billows just looked like fraying or tattered material. But when the contract was laid out flat and arranged correctly, the billows took on the appearance of sheets with letters. The signature line of the contract was near the collar of these outfits.
The third woman asked the woman on the right whether she had signed her contract. Apparently the woman on the left had definitely signed her contract. I had a feeling that the woman on the right hadn't signed her contract. I was a friend to the two women. But for some reason I felt obliged to tell the third woman that the signature line better be checked for the woman on the right. The woman on the right was angry at me. She felt betrayed.
But now both of the women were heading off to do their stunt. The stunt was probably skydiving. I went outside to watch the stunt. The sky was a kind of dim, pale blue fading into dark grey near the top, but a pale, lightless yellow at the horizon. It almost looked like a stage sky. There were some trailer-like buildings maybe twenty or thirty meters away from me. There were people scattered all about, looking up into the sky.
It now seemed like the stunt was a skydiving race. There may have been three women in the race. One of them, possibly the woman who had previously been the woman I'd "betrayed," was my co-worker SC. Another one of them may possibly have been my co-worker AW. The racers had their parachutes open and were somehow racing to see who could reach the ground first. I was cheering for SC. I felt like I looked up to SC, like I was a young girl and that SC was my lover.
At least one of the parachutists, maybe SC, was now close to the ground. My view of her/them was obscured by the trailers and the people around me, who all felt a lot taller than I. I couldn't tell who was winning or who had won the race. I was hoping SC had won. But I also didn't know whether SC's landing had been safe. I was hoping SC hadn't been injured.
Off in the distance to my left, I could see one of the women, perhaps AW, landing. It seemed like she'd had a hard landing. She had, it now seemed to me, been the third woman in the room, the one who'd asked whether the women's contracts had been signed.
The third woman, I now knew, had been so concerned about the safety of this jump. But I myself (probably as myself and not as the "young girl") had convinced the woman of the safety of the jump, and that she herself was fine to jump. But now, watching the third woman, I could see that her landing was actually really hard. I was pretty sure the landing gave the woman physical pain. I also feared that the woman had sustained some sort of injury. Now she'd blame me for the whole thing.
I looked back forward, to where I assumed SC would be landing. The space was clear, and I could see all the way to the barren, flat, stage-like horizon. But there was now sign of the parachutists. There were instead two strange devices, like giant spotlights, sending something, maybe beams of light, maybe parachutes, up into the air.
I now understood that these devices were part of a show, like a live-action version of an anime. The parachute/skydiving race was a stunt, a contest, on its own. But it was somehow integrated into this anime. There were probably a number of races. Before and between the races, the anime show took place. The show may have justified sending the racers up into the sky. But the racers in the show may have been sent up into the sky not by a plane or any other vehicle, but by their parachutes and the spotlight-like devices.
This didn't quite make sense to me. But I was kind of eager to see the anime show. I wondered what the drama would be about.
I was in a public restroom. Something had gotten me offended. I felt like there had been a huge crowd of people, all trying to stop me from using the restroom -- even though I didn't actually ever see anybody in the restroom.
I was in a narrow hallway, like a hallway between one section of the bathroom and another, standing (all by myself?) as if I were standing in line. Suddenly I got so frustrated by the feeling of being crowded out and having my position in the bathroom line threatened that I began walking quickly through the hallway, all the way to the end of the hallway.
I may have heard or imagined people talking about me -- or I may have simply been thinking about myself. The statements I heard or imagined were like a questioning: why I'd run off and acted so rudely toward everybody else, as if I had been suspicious of everybody else for no reason, or as if I'd thought I was better than everybody else.
I now felt kind of silly for having run off. But I was already on my way. I was looking for a toilet that nobody else would try to take from me. I ended up in front of four toilet stalls. I turned left in front of the stalls. On the wall across from the stalls there was a half-opened door. The door opened to a small room with two or three more stalls in it. I walked into the room and toward the first or second stall in the room.
But I again felt rushed or crowded out by someone -- someone I couldn't see! I quickly exited the stall and moved to the very back stall of this room. I stood in front of the toilet and began urinating into the toilet.
I was probably outside in a suburban neighborhood with my family. We may all have been lounging around in the middle of the street (???). We were probably at the corner of the street. The building at the corner may have been a single-family house. But it may also have been an apartment complex or some kind of office building that I'd taken as being a house.
My youngest nephew sat on the curb, playing around with something. I knelt beside him. He asked me something like, "Are you mad at me?" I told him I wasn't mad at him. He said something like, "I thought you were mad at me, because you never come to see us anymore."
I felt really bad. I may have hugged my nephew or patted him on the back. We were now in front of the house, maybe right before a screen door or in the threshold of the doorway. I explained to my nephew that the fact that I didn't visit the family's house very often didn't have anything to do with him. I tried to tell my nephew that I really loved him and thought he was a good little boy.
Beyond the doorway, in the kitchen?, there was now a lot of activity. My brother-in-law was in the kitchen, and a few little children were running around, creating a little sense of chaos. I felt like my brother-in-law was regarding me suspiciously. I didn't know why. But I felt like I should back away from my nephew.
I was now "somewhere else," talking with my brother-in-law on my cell phone. But my view was "in my family's living room" looking at some vague activity, which may have been like the phantom motions of people, of members in my family.
My brother-in-law was explaining how my youngest nephew had begun to act strangely. He was doing things like wearing a dunce cap and beating himself on the head. He was constantly criticizing himself and others in the family, being extremely severe with them morally. He was blaming everybody, including himself, by turns, for my not coming to the family's house as often as I used to.
My brother-in-law was probably telling me all this stuff to get my opinion on whether my nephew was going crazy. But it also seemed like he was blaming me for my nephew acting this way, like I'd done something bad to him -- not neglectful, but actively bad -- to make him go crazy.
I was trying to convince myself that my nephew wasn't acting strangely, that he wasn't going crazy. I also felt like I had done something bad to my nephew: not that I had done something actively bad to him, but that I had emotionally been neglectful of him. But I was trying to convince myself, again, that that really had no effect on my nephew, and that my nephew was fine.