Wednesday Evening

Nothing much has happened this evening for me to write about. I met with Coldbrain for a few beverages and ended up being half cut. We managed to win £2.10 playing the quiz machine and he assures that he will update his blog more thoroughly soon. Other than that I went back and wrote some more prose. I don’t know what it will read like tomorrow when I read it with a clear head.


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Yannish looked at the three of them. Conrad looking at him waiting for his reaction, Peter now peering at him through his steamed glasses, Yannish couldn’t help but think he had the mannerisms of a goose, with a long neck on top of his thin coiled body. And there was Peter who looked straight through him like he was staring at something beyond.

“What are you on about?” replied Yannish, finally.

“We are all homeless people, people who have no income people who walk around the streets all day, asking, begging for money to buy stuff. And it’s all our Labours fault.”

“What do you mean it’s their fault? You are here because you’re losers.”

“Losers? Of what game have we lost from? The only game I know of is the race for capital. And we didn’t lose we decided not to partake anymore. We can’t be losers if we never play.”

Yannish realised that Conrad was an articulate man who perhaps should be listened to. It unnerved him a bit. His preconception had dismantled in a matter of sentences. He could feel a slight shame pass over him knowing that he thought they were all pathetic beings with no ability to hold conversation in the slightest but instead were focussed on the best way to alter their state of consciousness.

“Loads of people blame the government for failing. ‘They didn’t help me?’ ‘They took my money away from me’. You’re all the same.” Came Yannish’s reply.

“Look.” Said Peter this time. “Don’t you think we want to be here? We don’t but we have fallen into a dark pit and people have forgotten about us because of it and now we can’t get out with out their help. Conrad here used to have a wife, a job and a car. He used to sell retina scanning machines to companies all over the world. That’s right isn’t it Conrad?

“Yes, that is correct.” Said Conrad looking to the ground as he spoke his lip starting to quiver slightly.

“But while on a trip abroad Conrad’s wife left him for another man. Cleared their joint bank account and contacted the police about domestic abuse suffered by him. After that she hired a solicitor to start proceedings of their divorce. When he got back to his house he saw a letter from his wife explaining that she was no longer going to stand up to his abuse and that she was leaving him. I bet that confused you didn’t it?”

“It did.” Said Conrad. “I had never hit her or even threw anything at her. I was utterly confused. I tried to call her but the phone went straight to answer machine. I called her parents but as soon as they heard my voice they put the phone down I called again but they must of unplugged the phone. Everything was quiet in the house and bare, things had been taken, things I thought were mine. But my thoughts were interrupted when the police called round and asked me to come down the station to discuss this domestic abuse. Within 3 months I had lost my house to my wife, I became depressed and work were not interested in helping me so found an excuse to get rid of me. Never was I charged for abusing my wife and I don’t think that is what she intended. The stigma attached with being associated with domestic abuse was reward enough as my reputation plundered. I wasn’t granted legal aid for a representative in my divorce case and used all my savings to hire a solicitor. I wrote to my MP about the decision about legal aid and received no reply, I squandered all my savings on my solicitor and in the end I received nothing from the divorce, she won it and I had nothing. No wife, no job, no house nothing. I had no where to go so started to bunk up at the YMCA. It’s there when I met Peter.

“This sounds a really sad tale but how has the government let you down, what could they have done to stop your wife from doing what she did?” As soon as Yannish said this he saw the imminent eruption about to come from Conrad. He took a deep breath in preparation of the onslaught.

“That labour government never supported me in my divorce and hasn’t since. I have slipped away from society because of their actions, well lack of them. I used to earn £60,000 a year but when I lost everything I could only claim dole money which is just enough to live on not to build on. I was suffering from depression so wasn’t considered employable and besides in that state I didn’t even want a job I just wanted to fester in my own despair hoping I’d slowly decay away. It was Peter who realised what was happening to me so persuaded me to go to the hospital. They diagnosed me with depression and kept me with them for a few days to run some tests but then I was sharply jolted from there when someone with a higher priority needed my bed. Why cannot there not be enough beds for everyone that is unwell? Why only those with a higher priority? So I decided never to look for a job and so the dole money was cut intermittently. I resorted to stealing and asking for money, I should have been embarrassed but I wasn’t, I felt unshackled. Now that I decided to let be free from trying to play with Labours game of how to live a Labour life I felt I was living.

Yannish looked at him. He stared thinking some answer would pop into his head as to why Conrad never tried to get back to his job, tried to regain that success he once had. But noting materialised.

“ It isn’t just me boy, Peter too lost everything because he was a gambler and George, well George is loves to drink and once that addiction seeps into your system then everything else falls away into insignificance.