It's all over the news. The lab technician - the one who murdered his wife - broke out last night. He jumped an orderly and bludgeoned him unconscious, and escaped. The police are out and about, looking for him. He's considered dangerous, and by now will have armed himself with something. I mean, you can get axes at B&Q. You can get knives...just about anywhere.

This guy only looked at a picture of Daddy. Makes me wonder how I lasted this long. He's been in my room. I'd guess that some people are less stable than others, but it was only a few days ago that my grip on sanity was increasingly tenuous.

In other news, I'm still rocking it nomadic-style. Slept last night, in an alleyway next to a shop in town. Almost five hours. I'm thinking of paying a few friends a visit to use a shower. I have a couple of people I can count on, but I can't sleep over. They'll be asking questions, relaying information to my family. Aside from the risk of exposing them to Daddy, they, in turn, will have me sent for a psych evaluation. That's the last thing I need. Although I could probably use it. If this ever ends, I'll need it. But I'm stable enough now.

At least, I think.

The mad one's always the last to know, right?