To-day I got a notice from one of my banks that, due to the new Proceeds of Crime (Money Laundering) and Terrorist Financing Act, I had to send in a paper promising that my bank account wasn't going to be used to finance terrorists. Sort of. They were apologetic and all, of course...
Then, I was cleaning up the office here at the homestead (man, it's crazy how long the re-org can take when you go through a roomie change), and I came across the Schizoid's old journal. I have no idea why it's here, as I stopped speaking to him at about the time he garnered me the eviction notice from my previous place. Anyway, I flipped through it a bit because I didn't know what it was until I'd read a few random pages near the front, in the middle, and near the end because I was mystified as to whose it was. Hell, even then I didn't know *what* it was until I suddenly recognised the handwriting in a later entry. Then I closed it and put it away. I hope to give it to him someday. The few pages I read made for a scary little insight into the head of someone fundamentally out of whack; it must be a terrifying life for him.
About an hour later, Mystie came into the room with a Grade 3 class photo she'd come across. I'd cut myself out of it for some project or other several thousand years ago, but there the Schizoid was, centre of the front row. He wasn't a Schitz yet back then, just a weird kid who I approached one day just because no-one else would.
I wonder how he's doing.
||Gods save the Queen,
One last little note... - 09.21.2006
de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006
Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006
More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006
Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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don't copy without asking.