Friday 20 June 2008

Is that the sight of desperation I seen before me?

Last night my forensic psychologist neighbour was once again shining her spotlight into my bedroom window and today my street was awash with health visitors, council officials and social workers. The most prominent of these was a lady who sat outside my house in her car while talking frantically on her mobile phone. Presumably she'd just been to visit the girls living in the council house next to me to ask if they've had much contact with the neighbours recently. She was probably also interested to know if they'd spent much time in the garden now that their brand new council brought washing line was up and running.

As I was leaving my house I gave her a little bit of a wave and she responded with a right guilty look before starting up her car and driving off. I suppose of course if I did something like that outside Enterprise House I would be rapidly brought up on charges of intimidation and threatening behaviour.

Then I got a text message from my mother asking if I wanted to go for a meal with her tomorrow. I responded by saying that it depended on whether or not she was prepared to offer me constructive support or whether she was still in the grips of the obsessional belief that shitty, 60 hour a week, minimum wage jobs were all her children are worth. She still hasn't replied but no doubt as we speak someone she works with is asking her if she thinks the way that I am withdrawing her is similar to the way my sister became withdrawn so I guess it's a good job we're not talking much these days.

I have to say that I am at a loss to understand why certain people still think this farcical and expensive way of going about things is preferable to apologising, making restitution and then having a grown up conversation but then I can't be too surprised because these are the same people who when finally coming into contact with my mate with ADHD turned round and said "Cor he's really easy to deal with!" without even the vaguest hint of irony.

Later I went shopping with my dad, well I went the shopping he just wandered up and down the aisles seeking out his next victim. He finally settled on a woman in a wheelchair and her teenage daughter. Personally I thought that was a bit low because they'd clearly suffered enough without having to waste time talking to him.

When I got home I noticed the story of George Markov was doing the rounds again. For those of you who aren't familiar with the story Mr Markov was a defector from Communist Bulgaria who was working as something of a dissident for BBC world service radio. On September 7th 1978 Markov was walking across Waterloo bridge when he was stabbed in the leg with the tip of an umbrella. The umbrella contained an air gun which fired a ricin packed pellet into Markov's leg. After a short illness Markov finally died on September 11th.

I don't know why this story has been brought up again but every time I hear it I wish someone would do the same thing to me because if I have no right to live I may as well be killed. It's just a shame that the last time British Intelligence tried to assassinate me they missed and ended up killing several of my friends.

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