You Scratch My Back


I phoned my mum tonight and wished her happy birthday. I wasn’t supposed to but I didn’t forget.

M bought me a Juice charger: £12.99 out of her own pocket, or from the Shelter charity. Either way, it means we won’t have to miss any further calls as my phone will no longer need to be left to charge in a High Street phone shop. Right now it’s plugged into the wall at CRI as I type this.

I had a long chat with M today. I told her again that I’m nervous about leaving my comfort zone: she understands. I’ve missed out on Shelter the last couple of nights as beds have been full and I’ve missed calls because my phone has been charging at Carphone Warehouse. I can’t return missed calls as I have no credit. A problem overcome now though.

M is a kitchen volunteer at Shelter in Tunbridge Wells and on Sunday, she’s giving me a lift over there. I’ll get to see what it’s like, I’ll get a free dinner and if I feel comfortable, I’ll stay and return to tonbridge on Monday with the rail ticket I’ll be given. If not I get a lift back to tonbridge on Sunday night.

Tonbridge is my home (for now): it’s where all of my recently-acquired friends are; Blue and Jazz for one (and they are one). Blue trusts me with his belongings while he hops off for a piss; he trusts me with Jazz – his nearest and dearest; his closest friend; his companion – because I’ve earned his trust. In a few days; street relationships are built far quicker than those on the inside. Things move quicker out here; life is shorter. Jazz trusts me too and I’m now “Uncle” and proud.

Blue and I have a deal: whichever one of us is housed first will put the other up (saves getting beaten up on park benches). Blue’s also going to teach me some self-defence moves. He used to be a cage fighter and guess how many fights he won, unbeaten? Fucking 42. I trust him and it’s mutual.

M has taken all of my remaining things which were with the ex-parents into storage for me. So they’re well and truly free of my burden. M said that when she saw the Mother ship today, mum was in pieces. That’s why I braved the situation, went against advice and phoned to say happy birthday. She’s still my mum and always will be. I even said “I love you” before hanging up and not letting her reply. I did that for a reason.

My need for a haircut grows. M is finding out for me when the hairdresser is visiting Shelter (really!) I don’t need my hair dressed; I don’t need it styled; just some clippers to restore my Mohawk.

I checked on my eBay listing of the Telegraph vouchers earlier and they were up to £72: I can’t help thinking that someone may be spoofing me: we shall see.

I got a written quote from cash converters on just the netbook / notepad / tablet I need: it’s a Go Clever Orion 97 tablet, with case and detachable keyboard, running on Android. £139.99 brand new, as they carry the Go clever range and therefore always have them in stock. I’ve handed the quote to my key worker to support my Small sparks application. I so want that little thing.
CRI, McDonald’s, ‘spoons…

Tonight I met new friends, including Bryony (“:)”), Noosh (“It was lovely meeting you; thank you xxx”) and Amy (“Good luck in all that you do xxx”)

(Yet more people who recognise that this is not as easy as others might think. I never volunteer my situation; I keep myself to myself and only speak when spoken to about my predicamentc o do otherwise would be self-indulgent wouldn’t it?)
The ladies and I parted company and I’m on my own again.

My back is ithcing; right in that place you can’t quite reach and need someone else to scratch it for you.


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