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, 23 March 2012

Hello Bloggypeople, it is friday evening and I haven't nattered to you since Tuesday, so what happened? Well I just got caught up in things and I wasn't too well either.

On Tuesday I stayed in my old chavtown, I ended up making use of their good library, but I wasn't well, so in the end I didn't catch the train that evening.

At 5pm I came out of the library for a teabreak, and my bad jokes pal was there, smoking, unusual because he is never out in the evenings, he commented on me still being there and offered to introduce me to some people, but I declined, so he took Patrick giraf to introduce to them, then when he came back he told me he was going to our church, the one I don't go to because of the fall out with my friend.
He wondered if I was coming too, but I said no.
He took Patrick with him.

I went up to the rough council estate and made use of their post office ATM and their chip shop, I wish I hadn't gone to the chip shop because I was sick when I had eaten.

Then I went up to the church to extract my giraffe. My bad jokes pal came to meet me, and we larked around and joked, while the other church people enjoyed their tea, some of them waved and smiled but I was reluctant to go over because my old friend was there.

Me and my bad jokes pal walked up to the market and parted company there, he was going walking and I was going to the bed and breakfast.

I went to the bed and breakfast, I was very tired and rather sick and in pain, I did my hygeine and had a bath and watched some television and fell asleep.
I woke wide awake at 4am, needed the loo badly, upset stomach crashing about, my talisman glowed in the dark, reminding me that I was safe, safe even from the terrors that overwhelmed me.

I went back to bed glad that I wasn't sleeping outside, I slept again and woke in the morning, didn't feel too good, had soem tea and a shower and went to get the train.
Wednesday morning:

Started vomiting again on the train, luckily I always sit or stand in the corridor, and so I was right next to the loo.

Got back to my other town, sinking feeling at leaving my dear chav town and coming back here, but I need to be here.

Went to the daycentre, no post for me, didn't need food or a shower, but my heart was sad and I did what I do, I went back to the railway station.
On another train, a little shuttle train on a journey to another town 45 miles away.
The shuttle was ok, a bit crowded in the end.

Got to this town, followed an instinct to a resettlement centre, the person I was looking for was not there, no, they are probably dead anyway, the resettlement gave me coffee and cake and let me sit, they pointed me in the direction of the homeless services just round the corner, I nipped round there to check them out for future reference, there is only a hostel really, and a cooked breakfast, shower and laundry service for two hours each morning.

I wandered around, I know it would be hard to recognise the person I am looking for, I saw several possibilities, I didn't know where the cemetery was, and I didn't want to miss the last train, the train back was a different route, not a shuttle, a train that went accross to another town and changed into a big fast train, I had the time of my life on the fast train because there was loads of room, and I could stand in the corridor and hang my head out the window.
(I had stopped being sick by then and was feeling better).

I arrived back in my town - this is the newer town, not the chav town where I overwintered, I will call this newer town sattelite town.

I looked at the time as we arrived, I thought it was much later but it was exactly in time for soup kitchen.
I went to soup kitchen, tag greeted me, he had blood running down his face, I pointed this out and he said he had just injected 5 grams of whiz, he was very hyper.
He got me a sandwich while I got my tea, Martha and Natter were there.
Tag asked me if I wanted to buy some 'Moggies' (drugs), I said no.

It was a mild partially cloudy night, I went and bedded down and slept well.

Thursday morning, woke up early, bedding steaming, breath steaming, clear sky.
brewed coffee and went to the church to chat to Jesus and his Mum, crossed the road to the other church and had tea and a chat with my secretary friends, headed for the daycentre, had a shower and then headed off again.
Unsettled and sad, back to the railway station, I got a cheap ticket to miles away, 56 miles.
The journey involved changes of trains.
It brought back memories, the air and the scenery, sparkles of complicated and unexplainable early childhood memories.

After a wander round the new town I got the train back, but I managed to miss the station where I would change, so I jumped off at the next stop and caught a bus that came in right at that minute, the bus back to sattelite town, I was feeling sick again and the ride was bumpy, but there was onboard wifi, and one of my survivor's group that I founded was online and distressed by flashbacks, so I talked with her and she started to feel better.

Got back to sattelite town well in time for soup kitchen but by the time kitchen was 15 minutes late and there was a big crowd, I knew it was going to be too much for me, so I left, not feeling well, wandered and had a McD's cuppa, went to bed down, a mild night with cloudy.
Something big enough to be rat, cat, fox or rabbit came running along and I growled to warn it off, growl works, primeval instinct.

Woke up with my alarm clock escaped and muttering to itself at a distance, caught it and throttled it, early start because Friday is the day when I am most likely to be found here.

Picked out my dirty laundy and damp dirty sleeping bag and headed to the bus station for two cuppas, read my book, went to chat to Jesus, didn't stop for a coffee with the secretaries, headed for daycentre, showered, put clothes on to wash, the ladies said that they would put them in the dryer, but they weren't very dry later, went to football, couldn't play well because my legs were too bad and would not hold me.
Got dropped in town for mass and lunch, chatted to nice people and nice priest, my priest and my new friend weren't there, went back to daycentre, read, got my washing finished, came back to town.
weather, springlike.

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