Monday 2 September 2019

The constant struggle..... if I only I could market myself like the homeless stereotype the media wants....

As you'll have read in my previous post.  A lovely lady who brought me hope and happiness slipped through my fingers for seemingly no reason a few months ago. It hurt... a lot.

It's not an uncommon experience though being let down by those people closest to you. As I get older it's something that has happened more than it ever did when I was young. That's not an age thing but a period one.  Commuity and friendship used to be key to survival in our society. but we've stopped thinking of ourselves in those terms in the 21st Century, instead we've become isolated and money serving.

Being let down by someone you care for, that's the worst, but being let down by everybody makes the process of living nigh on impossible.

I am yet again, being wongly deprived funds from the DWP in respect to my DLA (Disability Living Allowace) & IB (Incapacity Benefit) which are paid due to my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.  This means I'm now utterly destitute.Being penniless in the UK, unblievable, is actually an illegal offence.

That is becasue we still have the Georgian (not Victorian law folks, it poredates even that) Vagrancy Act on our statute and the police still use it (Liberty are campaigning to get it repealed). If you cannot prove you have the means to feed yourself you can go to prison.  The irony of a state that doesn't want to give someone their legally entitled welfare of £200 per week but happy to pay a £1,000 in housing that same individual in prison, is not lost on me, especially, as our PM says aursterity has ended.

I personally wouldn't last a week if my freedoms were taken away from me, so it's not really an option for me, but I do see those choosing prison over survivnig on the streets as its a better alternative, as being reasoned and rational.

People often ask me, "how can this be happening?" it's a good question, but it isn't actually what they mean. They are not asking how can we live in a society that allows this to happen, or how are civil servants permitted to get away with this behavipur or why isn't our government doing anything to prevent these travesties?

No, they are asking me, how I've let this happen to me.

This question really pisses me off.

Not least, becasue I would have done a hundred things they wouldn't even have thought of doing to imrpove my siutation. Attempted a myriad of solutions from the blindingly obvious to the insanely obscure.

But the most galling is because they think, if their life is "normal" then clearly I must have done something to make mine "abnormal". They don't understand, as a society that we don't live in a bubble,  Our actions aren't necessarily our own as we live in a country with enforecable laws, that sometimes work against us.

For example I have in the past reached out to the Cinema & Television Benevolent Fund (CTBF now renamed The Film & Television Charity) when things had got like this in the past and had been greatly assisted, especially when it came to supporting my son after the DWP removed my mens to live the first few times.  But the CTBF hated the fact that I could maintain a social life in London and be homeless and peniless and therefore simply stopped beleiving me.  Thus my persistence not to be crushed by my situation, instead preferring to use my initiative, skill and knowledge to continue my lifestyle without money, becomes the very reason I wasn't getting support for money I simply couldn't survive without.

My mother always instilled in me the notion that people will help others who help themselves.  That's no longer a mantra that holds ture in today's society.

In the UK's current climate, you're either a waster or a cheat if you have the tumerity to claim, should you get sick or infirmed, the insurance you've probably paid into for years. British society doesn't see National Insurance as the same as any other type of insurance and therefore if you make claim on it in respect to Social Security payments then you're a failure, a loser or a bum.

Ironically though it would be the same as saying to someone who'd had an accident in their car that they shouldn't claim car insurance, because of all those who've paid their insurance and haven't had an accident. The system would obviously collapse, but it is of course exactly the same thinking.

Legally, I've beaten the DWP in appeals court over tweny times over the years. 

I've even attended the Royal Courts of Justice as a litigant in person (representing myself) when they refused to communicate with me by email against their own policy, government legislation and my Human Rights, which the judge in that case stated had been breached for nearly a decade (Paul Atherton V Secreatry of State for Work and Pensions).

How many people can say they argued against the State on their own in one of the highest courts in the land and changed case-law?  I suspect very few.

But still people ask "How haven't you sorted this yet?"

My current appeals process has taken since November 2018 and I've still yet to hear if I have a date for the hearing.  I'm lucky, having worked for the DHSS as was in the mid eighties, I understand the law in respect to benefits, so can represent myself.  Others aren't so lucky and they've had the removal of Legal Aid to add to their woes, so can't get pay for legal assistance, even if they found someone who'd take their case.

But how can I speed up the legal process, how do I fix that?

I'm trying to get an art project off the ground as you may have read elsewhere called Displaced (My speech on the project at the RSA can be found here).  The idea was simple, put 50 of my luxury objects, that had been trapped in my sotrage unit for the past ten years, in Museum Cases on the streets of London in the style of a treasure hunt. The prupose? To highlight the changing face of homelessness currently evolving in the United Kingdon and dispell many of the myths assocaited with it and in so doing bring about a change of tone in the media.

If I'd been attempting do this a decade ago I would have completed it by now. As it is, I've bee trying to get this off the ground for three years and am pretty much exaclty where I started.

I'd been working with the Museum of Homelessness but they got intimidated by the scale of the project even though for me it was primarily to raise funds for them and dropped out with really no explanation.

Access Storage who have been phenomenal in their assistance over the years, have had a change of store management and are now no longer being accomodating with my storage fees and they've also had a change of Marketing Manager so the promise of PR from them has suddenly dematerialised too.

The City of London's City Art Initiative (CAI) apparently loved the idea, but then made no assistance in making it happen, as fake block after fake block was put in my way. First it was an advertising problem, that miraculously vanished when I requested upon which legislation they were making this decision, then it was Highways problem until Highways said no problem and so it went.

I spoke at the Royal Society of Arts as a Fellow to garner support from the Fellowship, but none came forward. The RSA is supposed to be the heart of groundbreaking thinking in the UK but nobody out of the 40,000 fellowship actually came forward with assistance. NOBODY!

I reached out to my alma mater Cardiff Business School in the hope of getting support from the Alumni & provide work placements for students. Carbs is the only school that makes claim to being A Public Value Business School but their response reflected small minded thinking and a knee jerk reaction to something that should have prompted a discussion at the very least. They bother me every week, have written about me and I'm one of the few Alumni with a Wikipedia page.

I've spoken at the House of Commons about my plight to engender a clearly understanding of the problem when Bob Blackman was drafting his Homelessness Reduction Bill, but the key to my contirbution was how do you enforce legislation when Councils are refusing to abide by them was lost and remains to be the biggest problem today.

I've been invited in to City Hall to speak to the heads of No Second Night Out when I was stuck in their hub on Goldhawk road only to be ignored, because the people I was speaking to, although in charge, had no undestanding of the problem. Prefering a piece of reseach that was so flawed wouldn't have got through a first year business course

I've been written about as a Homeless case--study in a book. spoken at Tate Modern on DWP & The Digital Lie and given a lecture at the British Academy Representing Homelessness Conference but have achieved precisely nothing.

And I'm not asking for Charity.  I'm asking for something that I'm legally entitled too.  I'm asking for my insurance to pay out and to have the legal protections to allow me to live a decent life within the framework of legal Human Rights which of course ironically, is a law that the UK created (The European Convention on Human RIghts).

I don't want sympathy or other people's money.  I want my money, the money that I paid additonal voluntary contributions for into my National Insurance, when I was running my own business in my twenties.

Am I to blame for contracting Chronic Fatigue Syndrome at 20? Am I to blame for having a Credit agency make an error on my credifile and have no legal recourse to correct it (which is what prompted my homelessness in the first place over a decade ago)?

Is it my fault that Local Authroittes lied to me, got me to sign a contract with an agency that removed my right to social housing, not that that mattered because it would still take a ten year wait before I got one.

How about the wrongful impounding of the car that I was living in when the DVLA screwed up and the Metropolitan police took it away - my fault?

I think not.  But still, I don't want to complain or gripe I just want to change the situation for myself and others who find themsleves in this plight.


I've been interviewed by Buzzfeed (1 hour interview), the Mail on Sunday (3 hour interview followed by a 3 hour photo shoot), Channel 4 news (2 hour interview) and been offered to write a piece for the Huffington Post but all came to naught. Invariably not getting past the editor or making it past the last cut.

The feedback, if any comes at all, is invariably the same, I don't fit the sterotype. I'm trying to change the narrative but that's not what the news audience wants to hear.

To be homelesss in the media, you have to look and smell what they consider a homeless person should be. The arcehtypal Guardian image of man in doorway covered with newspapers.

No way should you find yourself at the Opera, vsiting a Gallery or dining, as the DWP put it, when they spotted a tweet on my feed when a friend had taken me out for a meal, at an upmarket restaurant (even more ironically we wouldn't have considered the establishment remotely so).

The sex sells angle wins too.  When I was being asked to discuss things in respect to Dr. Frances Ryan's book, it was the female who had to turn to sexwork to survive that seemed to garner most interest, in that uncomfortable juxtaposition between wanting to see the book publicised but not wishing the exploitaiton of someone who'd made a diffiuclt choice in hard-times.

In the 21st Century you'd think our media would be far better than this. Our intelligence improving not, as Mike Judge (he of Beavis & Butthead Fame & King of The Hill) in his brilliantly prophetic, live action movie Idiocracy, predicted all but disappeared.



So I find myself in no-mans land (something I found myself with my skin colour when I was growing up in the Welsh Valleys - not Black nor White but mistrusted by both) wanting a platform to make change, but with a media utterly insistent on not sharing my voice.

It was telling when I went to the StopTheCoup demonstration, that as someone who had voted to leave the European Union, that I knew so much more about the EU than those who were campaigning to stay in it.

It's the media that has created this divide between Remainers & Leavers, because the media are not reporting the facts.  They are no longer a service (well that's been true for a while) that delivers news, but a content entertainment service.

As a film-maker I'm all too aware of this.

From Citizen Kanes "What will the people think?... "they'll think what I tell them to think", to Networks "I'm not going to take this anymore" to Broadcast News "fake tear reporting" we've commercialised our news.

The birth of the "clash" interview in the documentary amd it all to obvious that divisive was the only way to entertain.

So, if you're ever wondering what I've done to try and improve my lot, I've taken the state to court, spoken at the House of Commons, appeared in a best-selling book on austerity, created an art project to highlight my plight, put my life bare on the internet for anyone to see and undertaken a myriad of press interviews to change public opinion as well as supporting others through court battles and making films to highlight social injustice.

All of this of course whilst in the main, living on £70 per week social security benefits and sleeping at night on plastic chairs at Heathrow Aiport Terminal Five, now ask yourself, what would you have done in the same circumstances to improve your lot?

And then please, let's never hear the question "what have you done to sort this out? again".

Saturday 1 June 2019

Joyce Ademasa - Make Up Artist (MUA) broke my heart...

It's hard to believe that someone I've been so committed too with so much for so long would be so cruel.

But sadly it's the nature of relationships, even when seemingly they end ammicably.

I met Joyce through a mutual friend whom she was supporting him as a Make-Up artist in his show last December.

I pursued her for a date, which took over a month to secure and upon doing so, let her enter my world, of eating at chef's tables, trips to Amsterdam for Valentines, invitations to the Highlands at a stately home,  the most romantic dates in London, my birthday adventures and a whole plethora of experiences that money simply couldn't buy.

Which is fortunate, as, as you know, money is not my forte.

Her looks belay her 53 years on the planet but sadly so does her maturity too.

We parted company just over nine days ago.  She did this at a stage in my life where I'd reached out to her for help. She knew I was struggling to the point of being almost suicidal, her response was one of repulsion, that I couldn't handle the stresses of having no money, struggling with my ME/CFS, being Homeless, having my project Displaced pushed back, not hearing from my 19 year old son and our own crumbling relationship.

She was seemingly more concerned about how things looked to others than what it meant to each of us.

This whole situation was huge for me, as when we started seeing each other she was keen to know if this was a long-term thing leading to marriage.  I'd spent 30 years avoiding such relationships and the notion of monagomy was always such a problem for me. (Read my interview in Advantages of Age here for the full picture https://advantagesofage.com/work/people/4172-2/) but I genuinely thought we could see our final years out together and fully committed to working towards a married relationship.

My homelessness became an issue for her. Even though she had her own home, and suffered the experience of not having somewhere to live herself, unbelievably she didn't once offer a night indoors.

We shared personal time in friends holiday homes or hotels.

So in our four months of dating, her getting me to say I loved her, I had never once visited her home.

I've never met anyone ele who has had experience of Homelessness not to relate to the condition.  It could be because it was so far in her past that she forgot how important it was for the odd night inside to survive, but she said even after four months, knowing everything about me and saying she wanted me to conisder marrying her, she didn't feel comfortable inviting me home.

Our relationship ended without even a break-up kiss, let alone break-up sex.  The problem seemingly bolied down to a few moments of miscommunication. She declined to spare five minutes to book a hotel room, which resulted in me not getting inside, that then turned into days of her silence.  A poem that refelcted my feelings in an instance that she took to relflect our relationship as a whole

She was averse to publishing anything online about our relationship, even though she's happy to share her personal feelings, visits with family or going out.  Without this blog, there would in fact be no record of our time togehter whatsoever online.

It's horrific for me, because she lured me into a world where I actually believed in marraige and a life-time relationship was possible.  Something anybody who knows you will tell you is something I've managed to keep at bay for the past twenty years.

Our last meeting in the Reunion Bar at Victoria Station, was a result of her ignoring all attempts from me to communicate. Requests to answers of why we'd split-up were met with silence, whether she wanted to hear from me again. She'd asked that I fight for our relationship, something I'd lattelry agreed to do (against it must be said, my better judgement).  The thing abut our relationship was that we were always looking for it to be balanced.  Two people working to the betterment of each other, not one looking after the other.

It was an amazing relationship built on honesty and communication.  Until the proverbial hit the fan when it was apparent that what Joyce was actually wanting was exactly the opposite of what she said she wanted.  Something very strange happened bewteen seeing each other, that caused her to create amazing pain and discomfort for me.

Open honesty was replaced with secrecy. care and emotion wsa replaced with her being obtuse and antagonistic.

I have no idea if this break-up is causing her any discomfort whatsoever.  She closed me out.

My life has been placed in complete meltdown and all because we couldn't sustain our communications, which was never explained.

It was the worst thing I've endured.  I invested everything into this relationship, money, time, emotion and commitment, in a way I've never done before. The fact she was unable to express her feelings makes the situation even worse, because she felt cold, I felt duped and cheated.

I'm back at Heathrow and haven't slept in 24 hours  Her insistence on ignoring communications without explanantion was the most evil thing anyone has ever done to me. Modern ghosting. The fact that we got to sit down, demonstrated that she was looking for the negative in everything. Made more annoying about the suprfiiciality of the guise of her forever being positive.

The entire situation could have been resolved if she'd done a few little things and hadn't misinterpreted my actions.  It was thrown in with some bad timing and bad luck (messages got lost and voicemails not heard), but fundamentally, it was one five minute hotel transaction that derailed us - and that's ridiculous.

I'm gutted and dissapointed and would love to get another bite of the cherry to putting things right - but without communication nothing can be done.

She needs to me to "Man-Up" as she put it, but ironically, it's her insistence to not support at present that's created my biggest obstacle to do that.

Whislt this may sound angry and bitter, it isn't.  I'm disappointed and lost and unsure what to do next.

Next move is mine now I guess.... I'm hoping the book Crippled (written by the Guardian Journalist Dr. Francis Ryan and in which I am a case-study https://www.waterstones.com/book/crippled/frances-ryan/9781786637888) which comes out next week, will open the door to me getting some accomodation. And maybe then we can look at rebuilding....

But if she'd simply been honest about what she wanted and how to accomplish it, I thnk we could be both together and extremely happy.



Saturday 4 May 2019

Looking for purpose....

It's 9 a.m. 

I am sitting in Caffe Nero in the arrivals lounge of Heathrow Airport Terminal 5, typing this blog on a beer encrusted keyboard having had just 3 hours of sleep.

This is now becoming common place and the continual circle of get beaten down, struggle back, be given hope and then crushed to nothing again, is coming to an end.

If we are to believe it, Einstien is alleged to have said, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result".

Well that's been my life for the last ten years and maybe it's time to acknwoledge life has won.

This year was supposed to be the year, that I conquered, not that I started the cycle all over again. 

Displaced had been an idea that I'd been trying to get off the ground in truth for seven years.  It's inception was based on the fact that I've paid £20,000 to keep my possessions in storage for the last ten years and rather than thinking of that in terms of money, I saw it as a way of telling my story in perpetuity. They'd gone into storage for what I'd thought would be a maximum of three months, when I first became homeless.  But as time went on, the DWP failures compounded, Local authorities lied and cheated, homeless charities failed, the police confiscated my car etc. it became apparent it would go on forever.

The initial idea was that I would donate the possessions to a Museum, this didn't work out as planned as the Geffrey Museum were too full to take anymore, the V&A liked the evolution of my jeans from Levi's to Edwin to Brioni, but it never got off the ground and so many institutions liked the idea, were either too slow in making decisons or simply had no more space to take anything but my reaching out did finally lead to my video diary being taken into the Museum of London's permanent collection.

But the discovery of the Museum of Failure through Social Media, prompted that idea to morph into a London Citywide Street art installation. MoF never came to London as envisaged but then like a miracle Museum of Homelessness came across my bow.

And as of last year the project actually came into sight and seemed to becoming together at a rate of knots. 

I discover that the founder of the MoH Jess Tuttle and I had lived in the same homeless community which her mother ran, when I was 17 she was 6, one of the participants on the course had assisted in trying help save the Kensington Odeon when we tried to break-in, a friend's boyfriend, introduced me to Museum Exhibition consultant Bob Deakin, who became the lynchpin for the event.  I'd met sponsorship consultant Tom Meggle at a French Institute screening, Sam Bompass had put me in touch with his Lighting Designer, Helen Marriage had introduced me to her Production Manager, Access Storage's PR team were keen to assist with promotion.

As you know, I suffer with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.  Laughingly the medical advice is always to avoid stress. Try avoiding stress, when you don't get paid the money you're entitled too from the state, because of some civil servants whim, even when the courts are on your side every single time, even in the highest in the land (see prevoius blog)

So now I have decaying teeth, because my borther who has been my dentist for thirty years has retired and I can't afford the treatment (especially because until my circumstances change, there seems little point, becasue I can't look after them properly in my current situation).

My doctors at Riverside Medical Centre all left, first the brillaint and kind Dr. Murray Ellender, who was the most supportive and understanding of Doctors I've ever had, ended up running the entire group of practices and doing some amazing work for patients at a management level especially in respect to technology.  Then Dr. Dyer-Smith who remained my doctor for 5 years and again who eventually fell foul of the draw of a management position was replaced with 

I started this blog by saying I was typing on a beer encrusted keyboard. Why?  Well this is the continual problem.  You are homeless, so you don't get much sleep, therefore you're tired, therefore you lose concentration and make mistakes.  In this instance it involved me moving a pint and not placing it properly splashing beer all over my keyboard.

Previously it had been lost devices, broken power cables, dropped tablets in St. Katharine's Docks. Now it's even the simple ability to write.

You see surviving daily in this state would be a masive impact on my health if I was heathy, but trying to do it when I'm suffering with ME/CFS is nigh on impossible, throw in the fact that I'm then trying to achieve a massive citywide art project then, would seem insane.

But it wasn't, it just required a little help. and as I said for a week or two it all seemed to be coming into place, but then just as quickly it vanished.

Growing up I wa taught by my parents that people help those who help themselves. That's no longer true.  The DWP have used my accomplishmnets as a stick to prevent me from getting benefits, people only offer to help, if they see a way of making money for themselves and the fun of doing something just for the sake of doing somethnig just simply doesn't exsit in public consciousness anymore.

The most crushing of all these has been the Museum of Homelessness. Their catalyst programme had been a wondrful experience and the bonds that I made there empowering, but rather than being the assisting platform I had hoped, it turned into the same bureaucratic nightmare of all these institutions.

The things that they were supposed to bring to the table like contacts and a mentor, just didn't materialise. I secured my own Mentor in the amazing Helen Marriage (and her efficiency just further highlighted how easy this whole thing could have been if everyone took her approach, email's answered within 24 hours with a resolution, always looking for ways to say yes, never no and always there for me). 

So with this gone, I've really given up on life.  Everytime I think of ending my life, I think of my son Charles, but even here I feel like a complete failure. Like your average 19 year old, he doesn't stay in touch.  I wonder what impact my departure would have on him.  I often wonder what my homeless situaiton has on him.  Since he was 9 years old I haven't had a house. 

Thankfully, friends, hotel owners and other location site owners have all facilitated in me housing him on visits to London and giving him the most amazing times when he came to visit me in London but things are now on their last ebb.

I've been typing this for the past two hours.... fatigue is creeping in,,,, brain fog has probably mean I've missed things as I can now no longer look back on this to check....  Suicide beckons once again.

I'm aamzed I've not had a stroke or a heart attack, my diet is abysmal £3 meal deals do not constitue a balanced food source, exercise is non-existant, I'm sedantry for 14 - 18 hours at a time, with the excpetion of two to three visits to the toilet I can sometimes, endure an entire day without moving from a single position.  DVT something my biolgical mother suffered with must be just waiting to kick down the door.  Alcohol consumptoin has gone back to Whisky for breakfast.

Do I continue to fight and thus kick-start the whole cycle all over again and as Einstein stated demonstrate my insanity because I expect a different outcome (a stark contrast to the Try, Try and Try again mantra, because everything I do is with a different appraoch) or do I quit, end my life, just simply by letting go of the fight and giving up....

I'm leaving Heathrow to go and do something cultural and free... It's the reason I fight to stay in London, endure impossible odds and want to enshrine myself in it's history... London has always been kind to me, sadly the people who now inhabit are not... and maybe it is indeed to take my final bow... time will tell.



   

Monday 29 April 2019

Chip... Chip....Chip....

As ever, I'm not finding the time to write my Blogs.

This year has been a whirlwind of eroding failure indespersed with little wnis.  And it's the little wins that are the worst for me these days.

You see the wins give hope and energise me to keep fighting and actually what's needed now, is for me to simply quit.  To lie down somewhere and simply give-up. It's the only rational and sane approach to the situation.

For ten years, I've been fighting.

I've been fighting the DWP, on an almost monthly basis since 2009, my money is removed, I fight and a year later having had no funds, the money is back-dated and then the fight begins all over again with the DWP stopping my funding for the exact same reason.

In February of this year, I found myself, standing in the Royal Courts of Justice, representing myself against a team of lawyers for the The Secretary of State for work and pensions.

As ever, I'd been let down by the people who were being paid to support me.  It's hard to ensvision a worse scenario, where I'm struggling to find money to eat, worrying about where I'm going to sleep each night, trying to fend off my Chronic Fatugue Syndrome, so when someone offers to suppot to take a little of pressure off my life, I grab it with both hands.

The Public Law Project, have done me an appalling disservice. Not only did they take my case with full knowledge. I warned them that the DWP would use my Social Media but (I'm still trying to write this - but my sight is diminishing due to my ME/CFS and brainfog....)

Paul Atherton V Secretary of State for Work and Pensions.



So right now, I'm fighting the following battles:

1. The Metropolitan Police to pursue the £25,000 stolen from mt Son's Trust Fund by one of the Trustees, a case that has been ongoing for 2 years.  The Crown Prosecution Service has required twelve months just to make a decision if they will prosecute even though they have all the indisputable evidence to do so. Still ongoing.

2.  The DWP - Email.  Even thuogh the Royal Courts of Justice agreed that the DWP had breached my Human Rigths by refusing

3.  The DWP - Appeals for Incapacity Benefit & Disability Living Alloawnce

4.  DISPLACED
Bob Deakin - let me down
Tom Meggle - let me down
CDI Complaint - CDI found themselve in
Jonathan - no lonfer able to support
Magnetta Brightly - unable to support in her role as an intern (totally essential to me)
Museum of Homelessness - not delivered on a sinle objective they offered to support with.
Campaign Magazine
CIty of London - Holding things up

5.  The Public Law Project - Taking the lawyers through the complaint service and putting together a case againts them for professional negligence.

6.  The RSA

7.  CFS

8.  Teeth

9.   General Health

10.  Diet