Merry Christmas 2022.

The first Christmas I’ve had in Britain since 2013 is finally here. What a year to choose! As gas prices soar, sprouts finally have their day. As a shortage of cauliflower hit our local Lidl, we moved to brocoli (which is better all round) and trimmed it all off nicely. That’s Christmas Dinner on Christmas Eve done. Having ate with Dad and Shaun, I’ll spend tomorrow at my Mam’s with Mum and Paul and Paul, and Beardie and Panda.

In fact, I think that I spent Christmas 2013 in Cornwall, so 2012 was the last Christmas I had in Manchester. Today, I met my good friend P.M. Brahma and went for lunch at the fantastic Northern Soul Grilled Cheese in Manchester, then a coffee in Afflecks and some dessert afterwards. Later, Panda, Blue, Shaun and I walked Clayton Vale. The Eve of Christmas has been quite relaxed. My thoughts have been elsewhere, but I am trying my best to enjoy it here.

On reflection, seeing the resting place of a deceased homeless person, hearing of a 19 year old lad hanging himself and the unfortunate death of a pedestrian at the hands of a Police car, could and should put many things in perspective. I’m not a huge fan of Christmas and its pressures on people. Please do stay safe. Please talk. Give help, where you can. Don’t be a knobhead. The world needs more light and love.

Dad has been good, treating us all at Christmas. Yesterday, on Christmas Eve’s Eve, I visited Aunty Chris and Uncle Ed. It’s always a pleasure to see family. A few brews and a wander ended up with getting back to walk Panda down Clayton Vale. Why not?! A good way to relax in the freezing winter mist. Panda was happy. That’s the main thing. I’m excited for Christmas at Mam’s house and switching off a bit. If my mind allows me to switch off. Much to say and do.

All the best for Christmas and New Year. Hope it’s a good one, no matter how hard it seems. Peace and love. 🐝

Rebellion #2: Homelessness

I was ripped from my womb, sent from warmth, from my creator, made to work to the bone for the inflator.

No longer again to see Mother nor Father, in workplaces far away, sent out long hours day after day.

Through taxes and energy bills, through blooded sweaty torn up hands, ploughing out profits for someone else’s lands.


I carried my owners, along with my leaders, and prayed to the sky that God may receive us.

No answer from upon high, to my pitiful cry, as I crept out to deny my sigh. Time was to fly.

The strength of those who fed us with kind, as we wallowed through despair, without comfort of mind. An axe must grind.

Here, I ask of you to reflect for a while,
Along with my colleagues, in times of denial. This life has been a trial.


For we are the future thrust into fear,
And cold nights gave up some lives year on year. Year on year on year.

Remember us, the homeless dead, as we lay down, ice tethered to head. Dead.

Dead.