This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Thursday, 24 November 2011

Last night after the library closed I went to the Samaritans, I didn't even bother to go to the takeaway. The Samaritan I saw was a nice man who was easy to talk to and I told him about my life as a homeless person, it is almost impossible for me to actually verbalise why I am homeless and what has happened to me.

By the time I finished talking to him it was nearly time for soup kitchen, so I thought I would wander over to soup kitchen. Soup kitchen was quite good, they had goody bags, cakes, plenty of sandwiches, tea, soup. And they also set up another stall nearby with clothes and blankets.

One of the drug addicts was accusing me of having sex with P. my friend who's floor/kitchen floor I slept on and who slept in the tent with me that night when the othe rgirl ran away claiming that a madman had threatened to beat her brains in. I never had sex with P. but druggies and drunkards love to make up rumours, it is nothing new and it shouldn't upset me by now, the very reason I slept on P.'s floor and in the tent with him was that he didn't try to have sex with me, he wasn't interested. He seems to have vanished now, but last I heard of him the police were after him for assault (not sexual, he was in a fight).

Anyway, after getting my food and hot drinks, I went over to the clothing stall, in London clothing was all grabbed very quickly, so I didn't expect anything to be left, I was surprised to find a stall heaped with clothing and blankets and almost no other homeless people there, in a way not too surprising, I am one of the only rough sleepers in town and the other homeless have access to other clothings stores and don't really want old clothes.
I look at the clothes, an immigrant who I have never seen before tells me I need to look for a dress, 'Yes' I tell him, 'I will wear it over my jeans and teeshirt', he tells me it needs to be a red dress, 'Good Lord, are you sure I don't need a mini-skirt really?' I ask. But he is too excited at finding himself a nice coat and forgets he was talking to me.

There is a man in a wheelchair there behind the stall, he has big beard and glasses and is in a wheelchair, he reminds me so much of my dad, he hands me some pairs of socks, the other people running the stall ask what I am looking for by way of clothing, I say 'Anything that will help keep me warm now that it is getting cold at night', now they know I am a rough sleeper so they give me a spare sleeping bag and blanket and some warm long sleeved tops and more socks and a spare hat and scarf, the hat is a good quality one, too good, designed for very cold weather, I woke up with a headache from a too hot head this morning.

The man in the wheelchair says that he expected more of the homeless people to come up to this stall, I tell him that they are too busy gossiping down there, as homeless people do, I tell him that I have heard some fascinating things about myself from the gossips, things I never knew and am quite impressed to know I have done without knowing. He laughs. I thank the clothing people, they are ever so nice and the clothing stall is an unexpected bonus for me.

I go back to my sleeping place, it is cold but I am not cold, I am not very comfortable, I am tense and can't sleep well, i do sleep, but I keep waking and I can't get comfortable, I am not using all my bedding but I am certainly warm enough, the weather stays dry and cold but not freezing. I wake in the morning stiff and aching. I get up and do a sticker hunt, by the time it is almost library time I have found stickers for my cup of tea and I drink my tea while I wash in McD's toilets and change my socks, ah it is good to have clean socks.

Then I come into the library, the immigrant from last night turns up and sits next to me, he is in a bed way, obviously drink or drugs have featured somewhere last night, and that probably also explains his rather forward behaviour at the clothing stall last night (by the way, the clothes are free, it is a clothing stall because the clothes are laid out on a market stall). The immigrant keeps garbling and falling asleep and falling off his chair, upsetting other library people, so the library turn him out.

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