Once after doing coke in an airport I got special assistance to walk me through so people would think I was mental instead of on drugs. Another time I was detained in a police station and the last train to get my flight was five minutes away, they delayed the train.
EasyJet paid for my taxi home from Belfast one time, it was £70.
I’m still amazed it all worked out all those risky times.
One time I woke up in Peterborough with £100 to my name and didn’t want to go home. I got to my dad’s house in Telford for £56, hadn’t seen him in three years, it was raining, he didn’t know I was coming and there was no answer at the door. I messaged my sister on FB, she contacted my other relatives in Telford, I didn’t know them. I was walking down the street and a car stopped and asked me to get in. It was a cousin of mine I’d never met. They woke my dad up, I stayed there a week and had a nice time with him. I’ll miss adventures like that.
I thought I’d feel relief knowing I’ll never be homeless but there’s this sinking feeling I’ll become less resourceful or adventurous. I was on the streets a few times in England and it was exciting, it tested me, though I know long-term homelessness would probably crush me.
I’ve been eating battered sausages with pepper gravy chips for days now and am now sick of potatoes. I don’t know what to have for dinner tonight, I’m not much of a cook.
Someone here might sneak up on you first. Didn’t Wariat take secret pics of you?
I think he just wanted to be back in my life because the guilt was getting to him and he wanted to do some nice things for me to feel better about himself.
On NYE, about 10 minutes after midnight, my rapist sent me a video on IG. I didn’t open it, it was probably a happy new year’s message, instead I sent him a message telling him to fuck off and I cr what else, then blocked him.
My IRA uncle is on his way out which is good news, he killed my dad’s friend, tried to kill my dad’s sister with a car bomb and suggested putting me in a psych ward. What’s bothering me is I keep getting this intrusive image in my head of food hanging out of his mouth when he’s talking now like a large piece of bacon with the fat attached and my aunt has to keep putting it back in his mouth. I can’t get the image out of my head.
This is why people look down on Americans. Try that in a UK hotel Aldra and the staff will be gossiping about you.
I’m not complaining directly to them because they’re likely senile with hearing problems and won’t understand.
