So I'll say too much, if you don't mind. It was a very expensive room. I was the cheapest guy there and I made a couple of hundred for my time. So what? Twice a week we have meetings that must be worth several grand. How long can I keep this up? It really is a farce. Humans should not live this way. I'm getting away with it now but if you can't tell I have mixed emotions I'm not doing a very good job updating.
We put Nanny in the ground. It was beautiful, perfect, not terribly sad. I'll miss her as long as I live but I miss many. Seeing Jean was wonderful. And John is always fun. If I could rescue Beacon Hill, what a dream. So I dream. And keep making the money.
Crikey, talk about drivel. But these are the things that are on my mind. Overhear a few million here, a few million there and my salary seems inconsequential. But remember the hungry, remember that even some of my tenants barely make rent and perspective strikes. I waste a lot of time, I do. Why should I want to share any of this with more that a friend? I think that friends are all I really need. The gold, the synths, the real estate... they won't come to my memorial.

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