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:

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Hello Bloggypeeps.

I don't always get computer access on a Sunday, which is ok, Sunday is a church day, but today I am at someone's house, merrily hijacking their laptop.

Yesterday there were people in town doing a petition, they fed me cookies and asked if I would sign the petition, so I did, and they gave me the stickers off their McD's cups so I had enough for a cuppa.

After the library closed I wandered around feeling dopey and achey, and finally got some lunch, at 4.30pm, then I went to my main church and no one was there, so I sat down in a sheltered corner behind the church and dozed off. I slept for an hour and woke up with an hour to kill until the evening outreach.

I got a tea with my stickers and sat in McD's for a while.
When I got to the outreach I was first on the shower list, but my friend from the kitchen nipped in to have a shower first, and so I had my supper, they call it stew but we call it something else, at least there was plenty of tea and bread.

Then I had my shower and became blissfully clean and scented.
The others all play bingo on saturday but I sit and drink tea and read books.
It was fairly quiet, a few immigrants playing pool, a few travellers and assorted people with assorted problems, two old men having a quiet and respectful conversation, no quarrels or anyone really drunk or high, for a change.

A lot of people left early, including me, I was too tired to stay late, and by the time I had got my bags and climbed the hill I was exhausted, I could hear snoring from the immigrant den as I bedded down as usual in my drain and was fast asleep immediately.
I woke at 4am, my dreams had upset me so much that I was crying, which is rare, I got up and went to the toilet, but the dreams had upset me too much and I couldn't settle back to sleep, so I got up and moved out quietly so as not to wake the immigrants.

Going into town was the usual fight against waves of drunken revellers, just as getting out of town was last night, I have nothing against them, they drop money sometimes, but I am grateful if they don't hassle me.
There were two drunk lads who were determined in their drunkenness to have a polite conversation with me, hehe, I like cheeky drunk people as long as they behave, these lads said 'Good evening' as they wandered on, I laughed because it was 5am and I wondered if they realised that.

I went to the lockers and stashed my bedding and thankfully used the loo.
Another night safely over.

Then I went back to McD's for a cup of tea, as usual there are drunk people larking about in there, and a sober van driver laughing at them.
I am getting much too used to these early hours and drunk people!

6am, the church gates are open, so I go and doze in the corner where I was yesterday, funny that I always sleep for exactly an hour here.

7am, I return to McD's for another cuppa, how predictable I am.

8am, time for early communion at church with my friend and breakfast with her at McD's afterwards.
We sit and talk about the streets of London from a homeless and non-homeless perspective and are surprised how much we see as similar.

Then I went to see if my shouty friends were out, but due to the RAF parades they were not, the shouty people are evangelists who jump up on the flowerbeds and preach very loudly, they are the only evangelists I have ever got on with, they actually do some good sound preaching.

Then I go and have a quick wash and exchange my dirty jumper for a clean teeshirt and jacket and head for church, my trousers are in a bad way but I have no spares so I just spray them with deodorant.

I am still feeling a bit off colour so my big noisy church is almost too much of an ordeal, and I strugle but survive.

Afterwards I sit on the wall and watch the traffic, Sunday traffic is all about angry drivers hooting and yelling, but some people from church come along and invite me back for lunch, and here I am hijacking their laptop.

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