Good morning bloggers. Yesterday I finished the two library books I was reading and then I left the library before it closed at 4.30. I went and caught a bus to the next town. I shouldn't be wasting my money but I am going mad with staying still in this town and having bad memories.

I went to one of the nearby towns, it is grim there, it looks like pictures of the second world war in some places, with ruined houses and gaps and dark alleyways.
I looked for a church for evening worship, but it was hard to find one, there was a salvation army place with a notice saying 'we don't do social care on sundays', so I kept looking, I found a big church and went in, a man was standing at the door and he seemed to be the welcomer, he welcomed me and I told him I wasn't really looking for evensong and was there another church nearby that had a less formal service?

He told me that a lot of people in this town were down on their knees but this was the only place where anyone was praying to God tonight.
It is a grim town.
The man reminded me of the rudeman, for a minute I thought I was talking to the rudeman himself. But it wasn't him.  This man woked out I was homeless without being told and asked me if I wanted to stay at his place for the night, he said his house was consecrated to God just as the church was, he showed me a picture on the church wall and said he painted it, he asked me who was in the picture and I said 'Jesus and Mary', I asked him how long it took him to paint this but he had no answer. He repeated his offer to have me to stay and said he was safe, he doesn't look safe. The choir master came over and he said to the choirmaster 'I am safe aren't I? tell this girl', but he didn't tell the choirmaster that he had invited me home. The choirmaster vaguely affirmed this man and the man wandered off and I told the choirmaster that this man had invited me home and he said 'don't worry, he is a bit eccentric'.
The man came back and I said to him 'where are the priests in this church?' There wasn't a priest in sight, the man replied 'I am one of them', I asked where his dog collar was, and he said he didn't have one, he showed me a cross and told me it was a fransiscan cross, it didn't look like one, but he asked me in return 'Well how do I know that you are a Christian?' which is not something you ask a visitor and I hadn't professed to be a Christian either, but I showed him what I wear around my own neck, glowing in the gloom, but I didn't tell him the origin of it. It silenced him though, and he wandered off again and told a random lady I was sleeping under a hedge, she came and asked why and told me to try the local night shelter, I replied that it is safer to sleep rough and she left it at that.
The man came back and started telling me that it wasn't a coincidence that I had come here and that I shouldn't turn down what God was offering, I replied that God knows better than to send me to a single old man for help. I now know that all this 'not coincidence' and 'God says so' is manipulation, haven't I learned well from the cult churches and my abusers?

All the 'policy' (wrong as it is) of the great grim church is useless in the face of church attitude and the way perverts know how to use it. This guy is free to pick up vulnerable people as he wishes and no one would turn a hair. Thankfully I have learned the hard way not to go along with 'nice caring guys' in church who tell you they want to help but wont repeat what they said when someone else is there.

I didn't stay for evensong, and the choir master affirmed that there was nowhere else doing an evening service, so I went to McD's for a cuppa and then went to the bus stop and back to where I am based.

When I go on the bus and am on the move I get a mix of emotions, I love to be on the move but I feel so helpless and useless knowing that I am reliant on the bus and vulnerable to anyone who gets on the bus, I also feel longing for my work as we pass fields and woods, I wish with all my heart that I was out there working and strong and fit again. I needed the journey as my head is a hornets nest and I am longing to be on the move and longing for county A when it wouldn't be safe for me to return there.

It was raining when I arrived back in the town where I am based, I went and used my stickers up on another tea and then went to bed down.

Don't you hate it when someone else organizes your things? My friend had put my newly washed red fleece in with the dirty blankets that go on the ground, so the fleece was dirty and smelly. She has taken my other clothes to be washed though.

I slept or tried to, it rained doutside the porch and I never got comfortable, I was too tense, towards morning I drifted in sleep and dreamed that I was back at college, the college I went to as a mature student, I dreamed I was working hard in the fields and that I went to the portaloo but the boys were larking around in there and I was hopping about needing the loo so I firmly turfed them out so I could go to the loo, all I remember was that I was relieved to be at the good college and not the bad one.

I woke up and went to the loo and bedded back down again but it was nearly morning, I was reluctant to get up because the depression is firmly winning and the distress about the church has been bad. Eventually I got up, and rather hurried because the bin men came along and saw where I was sleeping. I put my bedding back in the shrub, I will move it on Tuesday/wednesday just to ensure I do have full permission for the new place, further away from where I sleep.

I went to the market and had tea and breakfast and a wash.

I was relieved to get here and start typing. I am going to have to talk about the church or it will not stop hurting me.

I saw V. in the library yesterday, he is a real enigma, he is always alone and standing out, but he is never alone, he had a 'mate' with him, he introduced his mate to me and told his mate that I was a good friend of his, which is an honour, he has loads of friends and admirers, I am lucky to have a ray of sunshine like him as a friend, he distracts me from the unhappy things in life.  he was telling me about doing first aid to a guy who had a bit of glass bottle stuck in his head.