i spend my life at montpelier train station
Of course you do, we all do.
But man, we all know its shit.
Endlessly searching for the Utopian dream.
I guess that's what keeps us searching.
In turn, what allows us to find experiences.
Well fingers crossed they happen.
Positive things happen when you least expect them
and always when you need them most.
`````while carrying my bike up Park Street, Bristol, as the inner tube popped
I met a lovely man who helped me change my tyre
we laughed in the sunshine at how many spanners I had in my bag
(my bikes always breaking, and a girl needs tools)
The sun shone as we chatted away like we'd always known each other.
We agreed we both had minds that need to know
If we are going to use something
we need to know how it works
or it doesn't make sense.
We lost the beautiful house, apparently we had less stable employment then the other group.
But there will be more houses, and I get to live with 2very lovely people
so i don't mind where i live
Something I have realised about myself: I can talk to anyone.
At last, I realise it, it feels like a right of passage.
My confidence is slowly re-building.
Piece by piece.
I've been volunteering all this week and next at a womans crisis centre
it has it's intense moments but you also appreciate the strength and resolve
human can have to survive.
Hopefully, with freedom, will come more than survival.
I play with the children, you can see the sadness and loss in their eyes
and you wish you could explain they are safer now, but understandably they don't always see it that way.
even if they get it, the sadness can be intense.
One more week then i am off to work for the probation service.
Very different clientele
Been hanging out with Hywel alot, very cool man.
Been beat matching, dancing, smoking and dreaming of ways to be around music forever
I'm guessing people are gossiping, but all my best friends are boys.
I see boys as my equals, girls scare me.
Its growing up with two brothers....fact.
Confused and tired. Housemate kept me up until 4am with 20 voices in the house.
Crazy bunch of 50 year old hippies
drinking tequila and disecting British politics.
its lovely, but a bit much for a thursday night
especially when the next door neighbours baby starts to cry at 5am
Tired doesn't even cover it.
Off to Cardiff tonight
To see tim's performance
must get some sleep or the dark theatre may be too much for me