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:

Saturday, 21 February 2015

Saturday morning

Good morning peeps,

Saturday morning. I slept reasonably well, woke at 1am, then slept again, but I was trapped in vivid and not very nice dreams into this morning.

I got up and just me and the cat were home, and I laughed at the cat for leaving it's leg in the air when it looked up while washing itself.

I am doing a project called heritage, which is a series of photographs of towns I lived in as I grew up. Those of you who know me know I had a travelling upbringing so I have many photos to do.

Someone has published my second letter to the Bishop on Open Letter, but why have they put a picture of him in a pornographic cassock? He looks whacko anyway.

I just had to use saline to clear my breathing, yeughh, horrible, it makes me gag. But I am a bit better again today.

What people do on the bay on Saturdays: Bacon sandwich and a walk along the front, I think I will do that.

Oh, I did my music practice last night and made good progress, undoubtaedly not good enough for the Lihous to boast about yet, but what matters is not being a production line object of boasting and one upmanship, what matters is that I am doing what I would like to do and at my own pace, and after losing my music and keyboard when I was deported from Jersey, actually finding the strength to start again and proceed.

It is a fairly fine day, so I will have a wander down the bay.

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