The Bystander Effect

So here's some thoughts that have been circulating my brain as of late:

• "I'm so lonely and detached from humanity. I think I want a baby" -has mortifying dream about giving birth- "Hahaha, nope."
• "I live in a dump. Literally, my basement could be on Hoarders. I could actually cry right now."
• "Kaylee, get a job. You lazy fucking fuck."
• "I like having goals. I like achieving them. Let's make some goals."

Now I'm going to talk about my dreams from the past two nights:

• I was getting ready to give birth to my second child. I was panicking and thinking I would not live through the process, even though I had done it once before. Wtf. Anyway, I'm in a bare concrete basement, sitting on one of the ugliest dorm room, egg chair-type things and facing a small tv. And I'm having a dilemma wondering what I should be watching as my child is born and what the first thing on television they will ever see might be. But I wake up before I even find anything and I never give birth. Yay. 

• Now, I'm in a passenger in a car getting chased by police. So my car pulls over and apparently the cops are really after this madman who is just running on the side of the highway. The madman plants himself at the front bumper of my car and leaning over the hood, he points a gun straight at me and tells the police if they don't back off, he's going to shoot someone. The cops have surrounded him and aren't budging. I realize that I'm the only person in the scenario who can hear this guy. The madman is still aiming the gun at me but he's looking away so I jump in the backseat. There's some other boy, my age, in the backseat already and he jumps in front to where I was sitting. I supposed he didn't see the gun. The madman returns his gaze to the front seat and shoots the boy in the chest. Then it goes to a part where the boy is fine, but he has bandages over his heart. And I'm having a moral dilemma because I'm ultimately responsible for him getting hurt. I like to think I'm the kind of person who would have taken the bullet so no one else would have needed to. Beyond that though, I never told him that the madman had a gun and was going to shoot before he switched into the front seat. I might have even told him to take my place, knowing he would be shot instead of me. So that's me being an asshole in my dreams and I really hope I wouldn't be that awful in real life.