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 16 July 2018

Monday

Good evening peeps,

The wait between what was my life and what be my death, continues.
It isn't nice or fun.

I dreamed about Winchester last night, as I often do, it was one of the Cathedral series dreams, but this time the Cathedral was dark, ghostly and derelict, cold, the water of the river had risen around it and in the dream, for the first time, my abusers had gone, but I was dead, so it didn't matter. Usually they are there, officiating and living, while I suffer in those dreams. I didn't remember the dream this morning, it came back as a flashback in the afternoon.

I would rather dream of my old Winchester, before them, the Winchester where Poppy and the Arbour and Norf Walls were. When I was struggling to learn to live after my childhood, but I told you without any doubt that last year's Norf Walls was my last one on earth, and I knew and know it to be the case. I could barely stay on my feet to salute my home city last year. But at least I lived to know and love the firebrands, and to my death, my Winchester, the not the Diocese of Evil's Winchester, will live in my heart and all that will be left when I die, is for the Diocese of Evil and their Church to be held accountable for their merciless and relentless destruction of me. And I am sure you know how Welby will react, with his lies and duplicity and fake weeping for the woman he murdered without remorse.

'It's getting late, give me back my friends',
'It's too late, it's too late'.

I will never return to my home city as my home, but it was the foundation for all of my life after I left my family, and the Diocese of Winchester destroyed it all to scapegoat me for their failures and abuses. I have suffered more injuries and deeper injuries than a human being can survive.

The waiting continues, with the silence from the police. I  guess the police intend to kill me when they find me. They have not contacted me since the beating.

What has happened to me because of the church's ownership of courts, police and authorities and refusal of responsibility should not be able to happen in this day and age and must never happen again. Jesus gave His life to save many, and He was scared and didn't want to die. I am not Jesus or comparable to him, the church have damned me to hell, but they do to me as their predecessors did to  Jesus, for similar reasons, they want to drown out the nasty truths that prick their consciences. I will die if it means that my death will mean that the church are prevented from killing others, that  they are regulated and stopped from lying about safeguarding while abusing their power to destroy and silence victims.
I may as well be killed, I can't recover from the weight of harm, no one would be able to.

I got two new Stephen King books to keep me occupied as I wait.
I forgot to say, I gave up watching Under the Dome, because as it progressed, it was nothing like the book and it was just the usual tripe that many films spew out, sex, relationships, silly emotions and people messing with each others' heads, do you neurotypicals really find that stuff entertaining? I liked the book, even though it is grim, Barbie and Julia were brilliant in the book and the book is much more realistic and imaginable than the film.

Hello Scott and Christchurch,  pray for me?








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