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, 14 April 2013

Good morning peeps,

Well that was the London weekend.
I had a reasonably peaceful journey to London though the train was busy.
I had an easy underground journey and got there early, so I sat on a wall nearby and listened to my music and waited.
Then a disabled man who comes all the way from Liverpool arrived, I decided to stay out a bit longer until some of the others appeared, but one of the Brothers came out and saw me and asked me to give him some advice about the roses, so I did, and then we went indoors and had strong coffee and chatted, and other people arrived and it was all talk and buzz.

Mass was fine if a bit disrupted, there were a lot of new people and people came in late so it was a bit messy but I was ok with some friends at the back.

Then it was lunch, the usual delicious soup and bread, sadly there were so many people that there were no second helpings of delicious soup.

a lot of people were working in the gardens in the afternoon and it was crowded and worse with the children running and shrieking, but I worked at sorting the rose bushes out and then it started pouring with rain and we were rained off.

The brothers were grinning and giving me more strong coffee before the Talk, I don't know if they were trying to deliberately make me go mental and hyper during the talk but it certainly looked that way, imagine me buzzing busily around during the talk? :)
Actually, even with my friend not there to keep me in check I behaved myself perfectly and enjoyed the talk.

Then it was Holy Hour and evening prayer, I went to go for confession during Holy Hour but someone took so long in confession that Father had to give the benediction when three of us had not been to confession, and so he said he would see us after supper and I yelped in dismay because I knew I would have to go and get my train.
So Father said he would see me while the brothers were serving food.

So we started the pre-supper prayers but I was getting very tense so I went outside, and then Father came to find me and I went to say confession, and he asked me if I really wanted confession or to talk? And I said I wanted confession and I said confession but he knew I needed to talk, so we talked and I cried and I told him about it all and he talked and prayed and it all felt better.
By the time we finished talking, the Brothers had saved our supper in the oven and so we had supper and then someone gave me a lift to the station and I made my way back on the drunk trains to here and my sleeping place and I tucked in and slept, there was lots going on in my dreams but I cannot remember what, and I got up at 7am and stashed and went to McD's and all the usual and here I am, waiting for the end of the world.

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