Waking with purpose. There’s too many cars/vehicles. We need to think about the environment more.

Well. Anyway. I’m beaking grammar rules for fun. I don’t speak the Queen’s English. I speak Scouse mate. Rebel.

Off I am to go town. Annoyed by the price of bus fare. Fair it definitely isn’t as far as I can see – it’s been goin’ up for years – but what do I know eh. But the drivers had every right to strike & I backed it to the hilt. I’m really appreciating the things I have – so many can’t go buy food & are going to food banks – whilst the Tories & fat cats are getting fatter – I’m not fixating on things I don’t have.

I’ll get out & show them. I’m too punk for this Tory nostalgic obsessed country. War isn’t good. Not all. I’m high on peace.

I’ll be in town in about 5 mins. Sometimes I feel like a foreigner in my own country (we’ve got Romany Gyspy in our family apparently y hablo español – and I speak Spanish. Even Liverpool has gone a bit Tory but it’s mainly socialist.

I won’t stand for snobs looking down on me. I haven’t forgotten how they looked at me, what they said & they’re sheer unfriendlyness. I’ve put up with it for too long. I’m rock n roll & I walk with a swagger.