Pete comes back at 8.30 and cooks a chicken curry, which is more tinned vegetables than chicken but it tastes good. He calls me to go and get it. Prior to this I attempt a 5 minute conversation to say I am sorry I am like this. He finds my doing nothing and living in my bedroom clearly frustrating. I want to say well, we haven’t got magistrates orders kicking down the door and cutting off the electric because of one thing I have done this week. He doesn’t understand me. He says he has been depressed and on the dole so he knows how it is. It is so much more Than that for me too though. I take a small bowl and then help myself,to what is left in the pot. He doesn’t like this and looked annoyed but says nothing but that is what is left of the communication here. He cannot,help me aside from my physical survival needs and I cannot help him because as soon as iam on my feet, it will be up,and out. I was reading Laura’s and ididits post on voids today and I will comment on these later.
