(From Nov. 25, 2013)
I’m waiting for Christmas lights, that are wrapped around a Christmas tree, to do something. I wake up nauseated, because of the dream, or just because?
I am on a journey, and I believe there are some people with me. I stop to use a restroom.
School girls are using a restroom, and making sure everyone flushes the toilets, and washes their hands. I have a realization that when these girls use the restroom individually, they don’t care as much.
I am in the same restroom. I check the stalls to see which I could use. The toilets were the bowls only. There were about 4, or 5 that I checked, and all but one had something in them. I didn’t go all the way in to see what. One of which had pink in it.
The toilet I was able to use was positioned higher than the others, with no door, facing double doors to the exit of the restroom, both being open. I was thinking to mention for someone to close a door when someone closed both of them.
Before I sat down, I placed something mesh on the seat. I urinated, and ended up getting the seat of my pants wet. I wasn’t exactly bothered by this, but used a folded towel around my waist (like a sweater), figuring no on would want to see my wet pants.
There was an African woman in one of the stalls with the door open, or gone. She is defecating (by the look on her face), and some of the women in the restroom are pointing out (with no judgement, but as a matter of fact) that she is “in the open”. I mention to them that this is probably better than where she came from, and about what Ali told me of the people in Africa going behind bushes.
This woman has some rectangular shaped papers (about the thickness of 3 x 5’s), colored shades of brown from top to bottom, with English words to help her learn the language.
I started back on my journey, which seems I was in a wash and there were bridges spaced apart going from one side to the other. Seems there may have been bits of water in there as well. Looking ahead, I see it’s a bit of a distance to go, but I see a sunset at the other end. I am to walk this distance.
There are some black women sitting at a table, one of which has her back to me. She is wearing a white tank top, talking on the phone to her husband. I notice that she has underarm hair, and wonder what her husband thinks of it.