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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