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, 22 January 2017


That was a sad dream.

I think it was triggered by me talking about my street brother, Bob, last night, and possibly a bit by the way my dad died.

I dreamed that I was somewhere and Bob Hill was there too, but he collapsed and died.

I was grief stricken, especially as I hadn't been able to get to him and help him.

Even when he died I couldn't reach him. I couldn't find him. I kept trying to find him.

Then there was a long strange process of trying to get somewhere, possibly to a funeral, but everyone was confused.

The someone started accusing Bob of hitting me and beating me up, and I was devastated and said he only hurt me emotionally, but this person wouldn't listen.
They were an electrician or something and they wouldn't listen to me and they started helping someone in a shop to move some things.

I went and found Bob's wife, Anne, and told her that Bob had never hit me and never meant to hurt me and that wherever he was, he had never in his life meant to hurt me or anyone and he was a good honest man.

Anne said she understood, and she handed me a mis-printed menu that used to make Bob laugh, and then we were in a cafe with a load of people ordering food.

That was a devastating dream, I don't understand it.

Bob tried very hard to help me but he hurt me terribly and added to the injuries of the Church of England, and that will affect me for life, but if I could turn back time and stop him from being taken ill, then I would.

No comments:

Post a Comment