Second day in a row I dreamed of Amina. I can’t describe the dream at all. The moods and scenery were too elusive and abstract. Amina was on a stage and she was being made an example of a woman who had transgressed something cultural. She hadn’t really, she was just playing the part. The punishment entailed having all of her hair shaved off. All of it. However, when her head was done, she looked like she did when she got her hair cut short in the Summer of 1993. When she was getting another part of her body shaved, I could see that she was pregnant. Very pregnant.
I’m going to drop my “Jurisprudence” class. I thought it would be about the philosophy of law as traced through the historical development of the U.S. legal system. I thought we’d be studying patterns and developments in the law as reflected through actual decisions and what they meant and what historical events affected them.
Instead we’re reading esoteric, pseudo-academic, ivory tower essays which have no discernable relation to reality or practical law. Useless. Instead of studying and learning the philosophy behind our legal system, I sit in class thinking, “who cares?!”.
I’m not going to put up with this anymore. My masochistic days are over. I’m not going to suffer through this class just to prove I’m not a quitter. Dropping the class won’t mean that I’m a quitter, it means I’m smart and know what’s good for me, and I’m much more reasonable about what I’m willing to put with.
Besides, I’ve just gotten to the point where I’m thinking I don’t want to kill myself. Or rather I’m realizing that I simply won’t, no matter how I feel about it. I don’t need this class to push me towards it again and tempt me to want to do it. I still hope I will do it, but I want to make sure I’m doing it for the right reasons.
I wonder if this is really being healthy or if all this is a continuing manifestation of my suicidal psychosis. I wonder if I’m ill and this is all just a delusional part of the illness. I can’t go second guessing myself, though. I’m hurting and I’m aware of my past, but I’ve always been certain of my rationality and I recognize that what I call rational is different from everyone else’s. That doesn’t make me ill. Different doesn’t mean ill in this day and age.
