I'm at a hotel that M. runs with friends. It looks like an amphitheatre. C. and I are supposed to rehearse here. M. has reserved a room upstairs for us, even though C. and I are staying with her parents. I go up to the room and look for something.

Someone prepares an infusion on towels for me to lie down in. The blankets are tucked in at the sides and then folded. I go into another room where D. is setting up an installation. I can't find him, only other men are working there. I prepare the same infusion for him. But the sheets are thinner. A frog is running underneath and a piece of faeces is lying there and stinks terribly. D. finally takes it away. The sheets are too thin to absorb the liquid, so I add a towel. D. comes towards me with his naked upper body. He is very muscular. He's surprised that I'm not going to lie down in the infusion with him.

I drive or walk into the underground parking garage of an airport. There is a cab in front of me at a hotel reception. I want to take it but the cab driver walks away. I still have two hours until departure and prepare a poster for my mother. To do this, I have to peel off a foil, as if I were moving a box from an application on a computer program. It's difficult and I get upset. I don't want to bother with these things any more. I copy the foil and place it over the photo. They are colourful little men that an artist from the BSR has cut out. Y. watches. C. asks how much time she has left. It's 9:51, so she has 9 more minutes. She's annoyed that I'm not looking after her. We can't decide whether the picture is right. I say that we don't have to decide now.