There is a joining of two countries, one in Africa one in French-speaking Europe, a new country beginning with B — Besquiod? Bitsiarritz? Bandofou? Bismillahi? Here, countries are different than how I’m familiar. They are more of a choice of affiliation and a decision of what agency you have to interact with other people. Maybe it’s the future.
Inside a confined space (like a lighthouse or a cargo ship in port), someone has sprayed a wall with droplets — maybe as art, maybe as prank. Over a long exchange inside the lighthouse, a woman becomes mad after she realizes she has essentially been tricked into depriving her pastor. This goes against her morals, she claims.
Riding Splash mountain. I have somehow forgotten that this ride has a gigantic drop at the end, only remembering as it happens. I experience it fresh and find it extra exhilarating. (On waking reflection, I wonder what might’ve been happening in the room or my body that might have contributed to the sudden feeling of weightlessness that I dreamt of as this log ride.)
When I get off on Splash Mountain, two women begin to fight about selling. Someone immediately warns me “[Mrs.] Acuna is here” and so I attempt to block the line of sight — no luck. They fight on a lawn and knock down roses, meanwhile I’m trying to separate them and remind them they’re adults. I manage to pull one of them away, urging them to cross a line of railroad tracks before a train comes so she’ll be physically seperated. She doesn’t make it as she’s not even trying; like she’s not even listening.