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:

Friday, 17 February 2012

I went to the homeless lunch, then I came back to the library and read a book called 'precious', which was about a nigerian girl fostered by a white family in sussex and grew she grew up with a bit of an identity crisis.

I remembered as I read it how my ambition was always to go to university, even right up until the time when the church took my life off me.

I want to go to university, look, I have a degree in homelessness already, and I wouldn't have to worry about how I would eat or where I would live, I would sleep in my blankets with my textbooks in my backpack and I would eat from soup kitchens and live as I live now. Any sponsors? I want to study languages or agriculture.
and if it is a choice between oxford and cambridge then I would have to go to oxford because cambridge does not allow street homelessness in their city, they move them on, oxford has some provision for hungry homeless, so I would be ok there.
Any sponsors out there? I can easily get as many A-levels as I need, within a year.

No, unless someone undoes the injustice of the church I cannot apply to go to university.

I just went and had a cuppa with my friend in the art gallery, she made me a nice hot chocolate, a guy came in to play the piano, she doesn't know hs name or who he is, she just knows he is a brilliant piano player.
'The mysterious piano player' would make a great title for a short story, I wish I had the imagination to write short stories, but I don't.

My friend told me about a poor foriegn national chap who had come in crying because he had been sleeping rough nearby and someone had attacked him, you know how I feel about this! grr, I would like people who attack the homeless for being homeless to be chained to a wall and be punched by a line of homeless people who have been attacked for being homeless. Grr.
My friend said she told him to go to the charity meal tonight because there is one of his fellow countrymen helping out there and he will help him. This guy who's been punched is new here.

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