Where The Streets Have No Name

Let us song the praises of a brave Mole who knows no fear!

Mog Blog

I won’t deliberate into my experiences in Glasgow. However, I was once homeless for a brief moment in time, several times in fact. Partly tied in with suffering from a mental health disorder, and partly tied into a blanket refusal of the services provided to support this, to entertain anything other than delusion. It’s hard to say why, but one would have though if a patient had come in over the course of 10 years or more presenting a story that was near identical to the last – you’d have thought some measures beyond tranquilising up to the eyeballs would have been taken.

My problems didn’t disappear when that chemical veil obsfucated my mind.

So yes, I was homeless. By no real stretch, just no home of my own. Walk at night, sleep at day sorta thing. Find a friend who’d let me sleep over, etc.

Glasgow is not a…

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