I Sometimes Read Books On My Ipad.

When I Taught, A Lot Of My Students Weren't Big Readers, So They Would Write Something And I Realized That They Thought It Belonged In A Book. Like, They Didn't Know What The Inside Of A Book Looked Like, You Know What I Mean?

Of Course, The Diary Helps Me As Well. 'that Wasn't Your Position On July 7, 1991,' I'll Remind Hugh An Hour After We've Had A Fight. I'd Have Loved To Rebut Him Sooner, But It Takes Awhile To Look These Things Up.

Also, I Used To Think That One Day I Might Get Someone To Iron My Shirts, But The Truth Is I Really Like Doing Them Myself.

Like Anyone Nostalgic For A Time He Didn't Live Through, I Chose To Weed Out The Little Inconveniences: Polio, Say, Or The Thought Of Eating Stewed Squirrel. The World Was Simply Grander Back Then, Somehow More Civilized, And Nicer To Look At.

I Am A Person Who Feels Guilty For Crimes I Have Not Committed, Or Have Not Committed In Years. The Police Search The Train Station For A Serial Rapist And I Cover My Face With A Newspaper, Wondering If Maybe I Did It In My Sleep. The Last Thing I Stole Was An Eight-track Tape, But To This Day I'm Unable To Enter A Store Without Feeling Like A Shoplifter. It's All The Anxiety With None Of The Free Stuff.