In Hospitals I Feel Palpable Comfort. I

She Needs A New Journal. The One She Has Is Problematic. To Get To The Present, She Needs To Page Through The Past, And When She Does, She Remembers Things, And Her New Journal Entries Become, For The Most Part, Reactions To The Days She Regrets, Wants To Correct, Rewrite.

We're In An Era Where They've Sanitized Home Life In Movies To Such A Degree That There Is A Certain Home Life That Might Be True If You Have Two Perfect Parents, And A Nanny, And A Couple Babysitters, And Support, And Lots Of Money, And There's No Strain At Home, Or Whatever. But For Most People, There's Strain, You Know? There's A Lot Of Pressure, Things Can't Be Perfect, Parents Can't Be Perfect All The Time. There's A Divorce, There's Money Issues, Whatever. People Work, So You Don't Always Have These Vast Reserves Of Patience Every Time Your Kid Goes Crazy.

It Is No Way To Live, To Wait To Love.

You Might Not Be Able To Operate Your Own Learjet And Have An Unlimited Expense Account, But If You Have A Reasonable Expectation For A Print-based Product, Whether It's A Newspaper Or A Magazine, You Can Certainly Exist.

Nothing Again. No One Is Listening. No One Is Waiting To Hear The Kicking Of A Man Above. It Is Unexpected. You Have No Ears For Someone Like Me.