When I saw Barton Fink in 1991, I liked it, and I thought I understood the movie. But, it’s easier to understand today.
Sometimes things just get all balled up at the head office.
Unrelated: I miss my babies.
Thinking of better times, ahead or behind, makes things more difficult right now.
Things aren’t terrible, they’re just me.
You just don’t get it, Fink. You think the whole world
revolves around whatever rattles inside that little,
kike head of yours.
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