It’s Valentine’s Day. I have nine working days left before I am back on the streets. Westminster City Council have not notified me at all that I need to leave the premises that I’m in, that I’ve been here for just under a year, having been inside now for just under two.

So, they’ve had two years in which to sort out whatever problems they needed to sort out to be able to assist. And they have done absolutely nothing. Zero, zilch. Not now. Nadda.

I don’t know if I can ever relate to you the level of unbelievable stress that not knowing what’s going to happen to you day in, day out, especially when you suffer with a disability like chronic fatigue syndrome, where your doctors will consistently and continually tell you to avoid stressful situations. There is nothing more stressful than the unknown. And there’s nothing more stressful than the unknown when it doesn’t need to be. When actually somebody could just go, “Hey, look, I’ll do my job. How about that? That’ll be exciting and it will floor everybody, and nobody will believe it. But hey. And so here we are. Ten nine working days before get him back out.”

Can you imagine not having people tell you? The only reason I know this is happening is because my landlord has informed me. The hotel manager here that’s managed my whole time since everyone in kicked off. But nobody else. And all the thousands of charities that exist, all the talk about, “Oh, we’re going to end homelessness,” it’s nonsense. It’s nonsensical because if it was real, those organisations would be coming down like an avalanche of rocks on the people that fail to do what they’re supposed to. But they don’t. They tinker around the edges, they fill in the gaps occasionally.

Now, I’m really lucky, really, really, lucky, I’ve got so many people around me who are trying to support that. We’re an adventurous, outward going culture. I don’t know what I genuinely don’t know what I’m going to do next, because going back to Heathrow. Which has always been my kind of reserve is slightly worrying now because of my profile. People know who I am. I was all over the papers a couple of years ago. I don’t if the security teams are going to be the same. If they’re not, it should be considerably easier, but if they are, it’s going to be a real problem.

But it does beg the question, doesn’t it? All of this noise and politics and talking and meetings and Social Security commissions and millions and millions and millions and millions of millions of pounds spent on nothing, literally nothing. Organisations that achieve nothing, do nothing other than write reports or have conversations and meetings and don’t actually do anything. I mean, it’s 13 years, it’s 13 years of battling against inertia stupidity systems designed specifically to kill you. And I still manage to create a make and. Achieve and make a mark. But 10 days, nine days, nine working days.

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