(02/25/97)["Learning too late."] Cary Grant and I are prisoners in the same ward. I am on a couch and he has a tiny white picket fence house. We are compatriots, trying to help each other in this difficult place. I am distraught and in my tiredness knock papers off the couch and I try to retrieve them He sees this and comes over to help. Now I am walking down the street of my ward looking up at the houses with violent inmates in them. I hear an announcer describing a horse race. Suddenly the crowd groans and the announcer says that Cary's brother is killed.. The men turn on Cary and accuse him of killing his brother. He freezes up and won't speak. I intercede and yell He didn't do it. Cary is now backing up the street and I am approaching him, walking, as I accuse him of being afraid. He finally yells yes. I am afraid, angry at being forced to admit his emotions. Later I am seated on my couch with two women relatives. I am explaining to them that I understand now. I draw a picture of lines going into a center column and then coming back out and going in a curve to the right. I say I get it now. You put in energy and experience and knowing the right way comes out. Cary comes over to me distraught and hands me a business card. It has a picture of him and me in outline form and he is blacked out. He walks away from me toward the doorway. I excuse myself from my relatives which was a brave thing to do and follow him saying what does this mean? It means he is going to commit suicide. I beg him not to. I have finally figured out the way but he is slipping away. I am losing him to the violent prison world.