Le blog de WanderingScribe :
Feb, 2006. For the past five months I have been living alone in a car at the edge of the woods — jobless and homeless and totally unable to find a way out of it. I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't scream loudly enough, alI I can do is write. So here I am laying down tracks...hopefully the start of an online paper trail out of here. (Started writing this blog-journal, at the beginning of February, 2006. So probably best to start reading, backwards, from there — in the Archives).
Park and write
By Sean Coughlan
BBC News Magazine
Extrait :
A homeless woman in London has been living in a car since last summer. But by writing a blog she has put herself in touch with an international audience.
This blog is where I come to be honest about my homelessness, not dishonest about it. I spend the rest of the day 'outside' in the 'real' world being dishonest about it, trying my hardest to cover it all up
My body is deformed from all this cold and fear. Woke with stiff, painful joints, and every muscle, in every part of me, feels like flint. Today, all I want to do is lay down on a flat surface. A hard, flat, warm surface
Took my boots off, walked up and down a few times barefoot. Was agony, blissful, painful agony. Never get a chance to stand barefoot.
Wandering Scribe has her own ambitions: "Hopefully I'll be out of here soon, somewhere with my own room where I can shut the door on the world ... with curtains I can draw."
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