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, 19 January 2012

Yesterday evening was not a samritans evening, I got a hot drink from McDonalds and went to my sleeping place, seeing as it would be an early start in the morning.
I slept like I was dead and woke up in the dark wondering what the time was, the rain drumming on the roof of the shelter had woken me, I wasn't cold, I needed the loo slightly. It is nice being wrapped up warm and cozy and listening to the rain, not so nice in knowing it takes a few minutes to free myself from the shelter and pack up before I can go to the loo.

I got up and didn't doze, I went to McD's and used their loo and then got a cuppa, a few very drunk up all night lads were making McD's more lively.

Then It was market time, time for peanut butter on toast and real tea!
Then it was time for a wash and change and sheltering in the pouring rain until my friend arrived for the big long drive accross the county, it was amazing to see the fields and trees again and to be on the road. We stopped at a reservoir that she knew so that I could wear their toilet out and we could have a cup of tea.

Eventually we arrived in the suburbs and she dropped me off and I promptly got a travel card and caught the train into the city and registered for a library card so I could internet and blog this.

Good God, I have realised one of the reasons I struggled so much when I lived here as a teenager, the accent, I cannot hear what people are saying because the accent is so pitched and toned, no wonder I ended up in my own little world.
And people here are very short in manner, they are good with personal space though, they don't sheep-follow or walk through you as they do where I am normally.

No-one is reading this so I will blog off and find the hostel

No comments:

Post a Comment