(07/30/97)["Frustration at not figuring out the categories."] I am explaining to my father, another older man and someone else what I need to complete my dream software. They each go off and try to create what I need. Cousins come by in a car and visit. Six men in a line, perhaps the cousins, as a trick or joke, all together rush at a freshly painted wall and smash their foreheads at it. This leaves an imprint for each man. They laugh. At first I am upset, but then I remember that my father had wanted such a momento. Now my father returns with lots of papers with still photographs on them. He shows them to me, excitedly explaining how this will answer my category problem. I am at a loss to see how. I need a movie or continuous stills. I see a huge machine in the right hand corner of a picture. I say to my father, but what I need to see is the machine moving. Apparently part of the story in the pictures is that a young girl gets crushed in half and dies with that machine and I need to see it to understand how to write the story well. Meanwhile, my father shows me lists of categories like Orderlies and corpsmen. I say but I don't have those categories. I try to read what he has to understand it. I can't Now I go to the window to witness the crushing of this girl. I see the front part of the machine open and she is lying on her tummy. A metal stick like thing comes down on her spine with great force and she splatters and dies. I break into a torrent of tears. The old man takes me into his lap and tries to soothe me saying don't cry. I say but I must. This is good because it means I feel the pain deep enough that I can write it well.