I have class in 4 hours. I’m to present the opening argument for a very complicated case, which means I need to come up with a theme, a feel, an idea about why this case should go the way I think it should.
It’s hard. It’s the most complicated piece of work we’ve seen all semester. I don’t know which of the witness’s statements to believe. I don’t know who the gun belongs to, or whether the bar owner was handling bets illegally in his bar.
And worst yet, my brain just won’t…start. It feels like I’m sitting in a car, turning the key and hearing the starter going but the engine just won’t catch and turn over. Again and again and again and…nothing. No spark. No roar into life. No flash of inspiration, of understanding. No ideas. Nothing.
I’ve spent far too many hours stuck in this mire since the maybe-seizure things started. It’s counterproductive, frustrating, and there’s not really anything I can do about it. I’m stuck with this brain that won’t go, wandering through this gelatinous fog of un-thinking, un-reasoning, un-being.
Of all the things you can do to me, taking away my ability to really THINK has to be the most painful for me. I’m used to living in this ache-ridden, fragile body, and the pain is something you cope with, but my mind…oh gods, don’t take my mind. It is bad enough to be a thinking mind imprisoned in a broken body. To be a dull and confused brain inside a broken body is entirely too cruel.