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:

Thursday, 29 March 2018


Good evening peeps,

Well it is Maundy Thursday, but I am not planning on going to any vigils. Well, maybe not, not sure.

And how did today go? I had a restless night of vivid dreams, too tired to stay awake in flashbacks.
Tired this morning.

I went and did the care home, a bit of tidying. A bit of clearing out the shed.

Then I finally had some money for food.

Monday and Tuesday earned the rent and a bit of petrol. But yesterday was the food money work and I was rained off, as you know. And today, by lunchtime, I was rained off again, this afternoon's gardens were cancelled as it poured with rain, and I am miffed to look out the window to see blue skies now as it gets dark.
But I was able to get meat, sugar, milk, squash, everything that had run out, yesterday I just had old rolls and things from the welfare, and I let my blood sugar get too low.

Gardening still isn't earning me a living really, I wish the process of getting well paid writing work was quicker, it is a long slow drag, and Max only has a few months of life left. I have no idea how I am going to survive, especially as the DWP are claiming to have lost the comprehensive PIP claim that I have made and they are taking away my DLA.
Things just seem to get more desperate all the time. I don't have a permanent home, and if I ever find one, the police trace me and make me homeless, I can't earn a living, and my car is nearly done for.

Anyway, tomorrow is Good Friday, and Jesus got put on a cross by Justin Welby and his Archbishop's council.
2000 years go by, still they cry 'Crucify! Crucify!' and now they use His Name to do it.

Tomorrow is wet and orrible, so I won't be working even if I could.

I should go to something tomorrow, I think they parade around with a cross somewhere. It might be interesting.

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