..dear reader..

Hmmm. Tried not to get too down hearted about it.  He's such an easy target.  The sort of common or garden paedophile that took up the lower levels.  They were looked down on by most ranks.  This meant they were exploited, bullied, blackmailed, humiliated and abused to an extent I found it hard not to feel sorry for them.  I argued about it with a friend in the mid eighties, she hated them all equally.  I felt that at least the ones that had sex with kids because they found it irresistible tended to talk to you more and were more likely to be a bit nicer to you.  The other ones, people with more clean cut, family man, respectable type public roles had to take drugs, watch films and be raped themselves to have sex with a child.  It was a means to an end.  Many rings had ideologies built on some sort of belief that by going against every social and humanistic instincts a human had brought about liberation and would eventually ...

I started by emailing the NSPCC.  The media was saying people should contact with them or their local police.  I didn't want to call the local police although I do have the name of someone I talked to when I first moved here and a social worker who I also discussed things with.  I was told it was being investigated but they were very busy I have hear nothing since.  My therapist that is destructive for me.  They forwarded what I sent to the Met.  Felt great when I saw .met in my inbox, from an actual police person, with their own email address and a direct dial to Operation Yew Tree.  I sent of my details and waited. Last Thursday I was riddled with it all and anxious about the transvaginal the following day so I phoned and asked for the some officer.  Half an hour later I got the call back.  I repeated much of the stuff I have said to Woman's Aid workers and whoever Woman's Aid workers had wanted me to repeat it to.  She wa...

Not all at once of course.  I need to figure out as much as I can as part of the mourning process, to figure out who I am, to figure out where I want to go.  Talking about Savile, Jersey, ritual abuse and all the rest is me looking after myself and those I love.  It will not take over my life though I will take my time put my health first.  I cant keep hiding from the names and faces that lurk behind my eyes, forcing them into the pitch black, no words zone.  I will say whatever I say and write whatever I write.  Stop thinking so much and be more.  Getting back in touch with the truth isn't something I only do when there is some shit in the media it is a constant long term process.  I will hope that others come forward and accept it when I feel like I need them but remember the reason I remember, the reason I talk is for me.  I have nothing to prove to anyone but I would like to be part of something which expo...

Turn the page And it's covered up with a white sheet. Dont read between the lines that exist but are never represented that are seen but never documented.  Lines like scars that trace the boundaries between what we will and will not remember. I want to draw a curvy landscape and a rectangular city but I trace my little foot and the line from the bus stop to my therapist's office. Over the rainbow isn't that much different. They just don't pretend as much and leave their corpses out to rot in the sun instead of deep in the bracken. I told my therapist when I was 22.  It was ongoing.  I took the bus buzzing with pain and hope.  He would tell the police.  I would be listened to, I would be cared for.  He called me delusional. I told a man at the hospital he wasn't involved in all that so much I thought he might be a good man.  He told me there was nothing he could do, that trying to stop it would makes things worse for me.  He said he...

There has been some rain this week drenching the outside of my windows as watched TV under a blanket or was wrapped in cotton in bed in the dark.  The light has bee tremedous.  Something in its angle or nature that goes right through people and wakes something primitive and positive, something cosmic.  Alexander McColl Smith, watching the search for a lost girl.  Whats the point of dredging rivers if there is any chance the kid is still alive, shouldn't they be knocking on and kicking down doors, pressing the snouts On Monday I had an appointment with my GP.  Stronger painkillers prescribed, a brief discussion about the vaginal scan I put off because of pain and fear.  The flu jab, I mentioned pulling my medical records.  The records of a fictional character, the legal front to a life undocumentable.  Tuesday is dramatherapy day, every session getting more emotional.  Making body sculpts for the last week.  I place someone as m...