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:

Monday, 12 November 2012

I went for lunch, hot pork roll. Went to the basics bank and was given two sleeping bags, oh I will be so snug and warm I wont want to get out of bed in the mornings.
Then I had a shower and had a cuppa with the nice secretary and then went to my church to light a candle.
Here I am.

I missed a few things off the blog for yesterday.
When I was on the shore yesterday, disturbing the crabs, I ended up wandering out on the shore, which is too easily done and you have to watch the tide, it reminded me of low water fishing, far away and long ago, with Kevin, we used to walk down with the tide as it went out, because it used to go a mile out and was a swift tide, so if we walked out with the tide we got time for low water fishing before the tide started chasing us in, we used to have a compass in case the fog came down as it is easy to wander and lose your way.
You end up further away without realising it.
But it made me sad that my life died and I will never be out there again, pulling razor fish out and looking for mussels and shrimps and things. We used to take our catch home and Kevin would make razor fish pasta.
My life is all gone and I am just waiting to go too.
Nothing at all can mend what they have done to me.

Yesterday evening I actually stashed my backpack because I couldn't go on carrying it. I walked through the big dark church yard and looked for ghosts and glowing eyes and things.
I saw a poppy on an old grave that had no letters on any more.

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