Introduction

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 http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/

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: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JJNP

Monday, 5 May 2014

Bank Holiday Monday Morning

I slept again eventually last night.

But I have just woken from the most terrible nightmare to the most glorious bank holiday day, the sun is out and everything is beautiful and the birds are singing, and it is so quiet and peaceful.

The dreams were horrifying.

I dreamed that I was back in Jersey, trapped at the hands of the corrupt police-church-states, where there is no clear boundary between the roles of one or the other, and they had me put away, they couldn't think of any crime so they tried to say mental illness. So I was in prison.
It was so very vivid, from the cliffs to a prison officer snorting coke to the daughter of one of the church-states-judiciary jeering at me.

I do not know why I am having these terrible dreams, whether I am just reliving the horror or what, but I get scared of such dreams because I can have prophetic dreams.

I recently had a prophetic dream coming true, one that I had in Jersey, years ago in Jersey, I dreamed I was talking to a nice safe man on a cliff top, and I told him I had lived in Jersey, now recently that dream came true, and a lot of my dreams like that seem random but they can come true.

I have no intention of going to Jersey, I mean, why would any refugee return to a dictatorship when they can choose to live in a democracy?


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