Just a small bit about my life

A couple of weeks ago I had one of my bad nights.

There are bits from that evening I don't want to remember or recount.

At some point that night I lost my mind. My memory is blurred. I
remember taking a bunch of flowers from the site where someone had been
killed there a week or two before. I am ashamed and I don't know why I
did it. I don't know what possessed me. I've never done that before. I
was incredibly drunk and in a bad state too. It's not excuse from taking
flowers from a dead person. Hate me if you want.

Somehow I managed to get a night bus but got the wrong one going the
wrong way.

I remember falling asleep at some on the road outside someone's house
near a car park near a Sainsburys somewhere south of the Thames. After a
long series of events I ended up walking home. I walked past Westminster
and Trafalgar Square, through Holborn and through the back streets of
Angel and Islington till I got to Finsbury Park where this misadventure
had started. I walked around the area for a bit before I decided to skip
on a train home.

I'd spilled stout on a white top the night before. It look a bit like
dried blood. In all that journey through London with what looked like
dried blood on my top - visible to anyone who walked past me - only 1
person asked me if I was ok. I was very lucky as well that someone
dropped a bottle of water near one of the offices of St Mungo's. I
needed the water and I needed the reminder of the suffering of the
homeless drunks and vagrants.

I don't know why I took that dead person's flowers.