Ignorant Of My Actions  I'm in a play with my friend Kevin Simpson. It doesn't seem or feel like a play: it feels real. We run though a ship on narrow walkways, turn sharp corners, and jump over blocks. The area seems to be made of grayish-white concrete. Three pirates are chasing us. I run past weapons that are on the ground: knives of different types. I'm a good distance ahead of the pirates, and in no need of a weapon. I'll leave them for Kevin. I may pick up a weapon later. I feel very confident in my ability to evade the pirates: I'm nimble, quick, and decisive. There is a confrontation, a battle between Kevin and I, and the three pirates. We have knives. We seem to be the "good guys". We spar. I may be stabbed or cut, but I feel no pain and notice no difference in my ability to duel. We are victorious, but it really seems like there is no big winner: it is just a duel. The play is over. I'm in a crowd of people. A group of people around me all have red or reddish hair. I feel that they are looking at me funny, as if they don't like me or have some interest in my and my actions. Most of them are not tall. I notice some of the women are attractive. Some of the red-haired people approach me and tell me I have nice skin, or skin like in a movie. I'm surprised by this comment. They're not talking about any part of my body's skin in particular, but I perceive the focus to be on my upper body. I'm outside. I'm running to the student union building at Brimson. I slow down and walk. I see my acquaintance Jim Henry going in the opposite direction of me, calling out his girlfriend's name: "Jackie!" I see him and jokingly call out, "Jackie!" I pass a young woman while I walk. She was in my Brain, Mind, and Behavior class. She has blond hair, prominent white teeth, and sat in the front of the room near the window. I near a building that has many large windows. Inside I see my friend Melanie McDyss waiting to make a phone call. I go into to see her because we haven't seen each other since we left for study abroad. I pick her up and we share a big hug. I'm very energetic. We fall on the ground, I'm still hugging her, very happy to see her. The hug ends abruptly. She seems to be taken back because of my energeticness. I feel out of place for giving her such a friendly, energetic greeting, because it appears to me that it was more than she expected and desired. We sit there, at a loss for words, feeling awkward. The conversation is dying and dull. Melanie's friend Erica Lange is then with us. We're sitting together, facing each other. They tell me that there are a lot of things I won't be able to do. I don't understand them fully, but from their tones I know they are reprimanding me for something I've done that they deem inappropriate. I think I must have done something wrong: offended or insulted someone, and now they are mad at me. I have no knowledge of what this could be. I feel uncomfortable, and get up abruptly and leave, saying a terse, "Bye." I walk to Armstrong High School, which is not too far away. I enter with no problem: I am asked no questions. I see some people I know, including my old classmate Larry Erickson. Then I see my friend Bubba Hacker. Bubba's first comment to me is something like, "Oh, there's the guy..." to the effect that he and everyone else know what it is I've done that is so radical and bad. This disgusts me. How can everyone know what I've done, and yet I am oblivious to it, I wonder. I'm frustrated, angry, and confused. I just want to know what it is. I say I'm going to defecate, and turn into the bathroom near the freshmen lockers. Bubba also enters to defecate. There are two stalls with no door on either. As we sit, we look out towards the sinks. The stalls are divided, but due to the mirror above the sinks we can see each other. I ask Bubba emphatically what is going on: why everyone but me seems to know what's going on with me. He replies something like, "You know how ____ (a woman) is attracted to you? Are you attracted to her?" I honestly reply no. Bubba says, "Well, there you go" indicating that my lack of attraction to women is my problem. I'm confused, and don't believe what he's saying: I don't think that is the problem. He gets up and washes his hands. I defecate a lot, and for a long time. The toilet bowl is metal. Toilet paper comes out of the inside of the toilet bowl on the right side, like out of a box of tissues. The toilet paper is brown and yellowish, in clusters, folded like a tray of sliced deli meat. It seems to have already been used. My feces are soft looking and yellowish.