Sorry, I was starting to write about London again last night but the computers spent the last 45 minutes crashing and freezing, so nothing was written.

I will continue London in a minute. I will just tell you what has been going on since yesterday evening.

The computers kept freezing, so nothing got done. Then I went out and headed for the Samaritans but chickened out. I found two stickers and got a cup of McD's hot chocolate. The protesters camp seems to have only warm water more often than not, their flasks don't keep anything hot for long.
I eat some snacks at the camp, there isn't really any solid food there, and I go to rest in my tent.

It starts to rain. I go over to the soup kitchen, after all, I am still homeless and I need a hot drink and some food, they ask if I am a protester and I say that I am not officially and that I am a rough sleeper,  they give me a spare blanket, one that has never been used before. It is always different people running soup kitchen, so they don't know me. They get worried about me standing in the rain with no coat, but I tell them I never wear a coat (true, I have a problem with heat sensetivity and if I wear a coat then I easily overheat and get ill).
Even though I am currently in a tent, I accept the blanket as I will not always be in a tent, I don't know how long I will survive being in the camp, or how long they will be here.

I go back to my tent in the pouring rain, but it has been invaded by some of the silly noisy teenagers who hang around the camp, they are smoking something illegal in my tent and the tent stinks and is full of smoke, I get some of the protesters to help me, and they tell the teenagers off, they don't want to make a big thing of it in case the camp gets closed down. My tent stinks and is full of smoke, my bedding stinks and I choke as I haul it out of the tent.
I am lucky that there is another tent free tonight that is better protected by the camp, and I am not happy that the teenagers now know that that is my tent on the edge of the camp, facing away from the main camp, it is too vulnerable.
But anyway, I settle down in this other tent, I am only disturbed once by someone trying to come in, this is annoying. I get up once to go to the toilet, the protesters now happily have a key to the toilet, so I don't need to go behind the tree.
All the smoke in the camp and in my tent is making my chest tight and my breathing difficult, but I sleep anyway.

I end up having a strange dream where I am in Gloucestershire with some of my family and some church people, Gloucestershire has moved to the North East of England and there is an antiques fair going on, for some reason my family and church people think I am really interested in the antiques fair, I am mildly interested and deeply depressed and suicidal.

I wake up and it is fairly quiet outside, hustle and bustle of people not far away but the camp is quiet.
I crawl out of the tent and the only people in the camp are a Polish man and a half deaf chap who is always nice, they smile and say good morning, and I have a cup of tea with them. The water is lukewarm.
Someone has put their sleeping bag in my tent, I turf it out and put my stuff back in because the other tent will be wanted by its original owners tonight, and my tent  was put up for me.

The poor Polish man has split up with his wife and he has a young son, he spends a lot of time in the camp with us, he is obviously devastated, he sometimes has his son with him. Poor man, he is trying to find housing, trying to come to terms with the breakup, but he is so nice and friendly and loves being here.

Well it is two years since my dad's death. I could write loads and loads about this, but I wont. I get to the library and start doing my emails, in the middle of replying to an email the fire alarm goes off, and we all hurry outside, it is a fire drill, but I wander back to the camp and get a snack, I haven't had breakfast yet.

Facebook is very quiet, no-one has put anything about dad, I put simply 'I don't forget you', and my sister likes this, she puts 'Two years feels like a few weeks', and my brother adds 'or less'.

I am going to the mission in a minute, to see if they can act as a forwarding address.