The strangest thing. I had a vivid dream of Amina. I’ve had other dreams of her that were vivid, but there was something different about the way I remember this one. There was something complete and rich about it, like a complete conversation as opposed to cryptic phrases. I don’t remember anything about it. Except that I still, still, still love her. That and that she was pregnant. I don’t think this was the first pregnant Amina dream, though. In this one she wasn’t very pregnant. She let me touch her stomach and it wasn’t obvious. The feelings were good between us, I would venture to say that they were joyous.
I keep wracking my brain about my life. I consider how other people might see me, and I wonder what the hell am I doing with my life? I ponder what various people would think if I killed myself. No one knows that is in my mental health history. No one knows that I never stopped being suicidal. But I have no immediate plans short of February 17, 2003. Maybe a few reminders here and there to keep me in the mood, but nothing serious.
