As I sit here, writing this letter, knowing full well it’s been a while since I’ve engaged. Knowing that maybe I just need something pressing to say, to say hello. To write something that people may, or may not read. I find it interesting that I haven’t reached out, or even told some of my friends that basically, I am currently homeless.
No fixed abode.
This might sound concerning, but concern is not what I need, or desire. I don’t know what it is I need from this action, other than a sounding board. Somewhere to put this in writing before things inevitably change and move forward, because that’s how life goes. Right?
‘You’re a nomad’. I am. Doesn’t it sound romantic? ‘Who knows, we shall see’ I find myself saying in every conversation I’m having at the moment. I’m getting tired of hearing myself say it, but honestly I just don’t know where I’ll be in the next couple of months. Which feels a little scary.
I didn’t expect to be in this position, but what is it they say? Most people are only a couple of months wages away from being in the shit? Well, something like that. There’s a number of reasons why I’m currently here, in this nomadic position. Some of which I’ve spoken about in the past - not having family money, a nest egg to fall back on. Pursuing a career in the arts. Having no partner to bail me out. Not learning about credit, or being the best with money. Being from and wanting to remain, in London.
We all deserve a home. Somewhere to feel safe and rest your head at the end of the day. When social housing became popular the councils wanted to fill the space, populate. Now, empty one bed flats sit in buildings, gathering dust. We’re told we’re in a crisis, and there’s not enough space for everyone. ‘Have you thought about moving up north’?
Lists and points, lists and points. I’m tired. And not good at filling in forms.
When my mum and dad split, he got a council flat down the end of our road. Can’t imagine that happening now. When he died one of my brothers moved in, but they wouldn’t let him stay. I wonder how many of those flats have been sold off, because of Maggie’s law.
Buildings are forever being erected, empty and void on weekends.
Local communities pushed aside.
Grenfell still not having justice.
Tell me again, when does the romance begin?