I want to go when I am ready

I feel a need to write something that is not new, it’s been mentioned so many times yet we move no further forward. The right to die when the rest of your life is only going to ever get worse.

My mum died six years ago today. She had dementia. My wife’s mum died before that, she too had dementia. My father-in-law passed away three weeks ago. He had dementia. I would put before and after photos so you can see the dramatic change within a six month period, but you all know what happens in these situations.

The families have to watch their own parents mumbling complete incoherent sentences while they lose weight and their whole body starts to shut down. We know they are going to die, they too know they will die before they lose any sense of reason. But we all have to sit and wait for what could be one day, one week, one month or one year. We don’t know when they are going to go but the one thing we are sure of is that they will get worse as time goes on.

I mention dementia, but motor neurone disease and incurable cancer are amongst other illnesses where the future is a slow waiting game. Walking down a long dark tunnel knowing that a train will come before you reach the end. Because there is no end. This can be stopped, but it is against the law. The law states that they must suffer, and everyone who loves them will have to watch them as they come to the hospital, or nursing home every day only for  the patient to not realising who they are.

I have an illness that is going to lead me onto dementia. In my confusion of a mind I feel things happening that shouldn’t be allowed to happen. I feel as if my brain sometimes stops and everything becomes unrecognisable despite the fact I know what it all is. I get embarressed when people look at me while I am half way through a conversation and completely stop and wondering where I am and what the hell was I talking about. Only last week I was asked my address and I didn’t know. I still cant remember. One of our best friends, she’s lovely but I never know her name.

But I am not there, and probably a long way off. In ten years I could be almost like I am now. But in six months I could have full blown dementia. So what do I do. I can’t ask anybody to help me leave this world as it can be classed as murder. To make sure this doesn’t happen, and assuming I still have a slight bit of sense left, I can go off into the woods and kill myself. Now you tell me how sad that would be. But I don’t want to be an obvious burden to my family, I don’t want their last memory to be of me laying in a bed unable to talk to them, or to eat, or drink and having the life taken from me.

I asked my two children once “If I died what would be your best memory of me?” They both replied my humour. Somehow this memory becomes mixed up with the last memory they have of me.

I want to go with my family around me. They all know my thoughts on dying, I have made sure they understand that when I go, it is because the time is right. I want a whisky before I go. I want to tell my wife, and kids, and friends how very proud I was to have them as part of my life. I even want to try to make them laugh. I want to go as a husband, father, grandfather and friend to all of those who were part of my life. The way it stands now I shall do none of this. It is so wrong. The next time they vote on this bill they must allow people to die while they have a mind to make that decision. If there is ever a chance for you to support this cause please do. Who would want to go in pain?

I’m sorry if I am preaching a bit but the one thing in life we are all sure of is that one day it will be our turn, and hopefully our decision too.

Anyone know a fun social media site?


Doesn’t time fly? My little granddaughter Nevaeh just after she was born, and then recently. I start with these pictures because it makes me feel happy to see them. And currently, there doesn’t seem to be an awful lot in this world to actually shout about.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to go on about terrorists, immigration, refugees, drugs, murder, grooming gangs, lack of respect etc etc. Everyone has had their say on all of these subjects and it would not be a good thing to add my views because, after all, they are exactly that – my views.

But I sit by my computer every day and wonder whether I should come off Facebook. I have tried before, but there are people who I like to hear from and this is a good way to do it. Often it makes me laugh. I like to laugh, one of the few things left in life which are free. But then I would read something that upsets me, something I don’t wish to see. Films put on of people in unfortunate an awful situations, pictures of children with deformities, stories of old people being frightened for no apparent reason other than the fun of it all. It upsets me. It saddens me and it disgusts me. I don’t want to see these awful inclusions.

Somebody mentioned that I cannot close my eyes to these things and need to see them to make me aware of what is happening out there. This made me think. Am I burying my head in the sand? Am I censoring what I wish to see in life? Am I cherry picking the bits of life I wish to be informed of? I think not. I do watch the news, I do read a daily paper, I make myself aware of life in general and grumble and moan about situations as others do. But don’t I need to see a young girl being beaten up by a gang of older kids to be aware that bullying does exist? Do I need to see an 83 year old woman being punched in the face by two young girls to know that respect is gradually becoming a thing of the past? I do not wish to see any individual situations that just prove what a massive decline there is within our country, our world.

Believe it or not, I try to keep certain views to myself. I have put them on Facebook before and started a difference of opinion that almost gets to the point of accusing others of being a part of, or instigating, the subjects we are discussing. Everyone seems to be getting angry about everything. We are all aware that at any time something could happen that could change our lives forever. And this could just be the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We are constantly on alert because every day we are made aware through the likes of Facebook, Twitter and other social media methods that all of this is closer than we realise. Or is it?

I fear I think too much. Is everything just hyping up a situation for whatever reason? Or is it a fact that a massive percent of the world are normal, kind and caring people who go about their business as we do. Is it that this minority who ruin our world are constantly with us because good news does not sell papers, or make great news, or is not hard hitting enough for a facebook status? If we took away the publicity that we give to the likes of ISIS would they then lose their power through failure of reaching the media with their views and demands. Are we not spreading their word? If we didn’t have mobile phones with cameras and videos ready to record anything that can be downloaded to the likes of facebook, would that prevent them being able to sensationalise themselves by removing their platform? Does progression actually encourage a worse world?

I know what I think. But in the meantime I shall continue to read my paper and watch the news. I shall continue to find a social network site that lets you contact people en masse with good and humorous news and makes you smile instead of cry. (I think I may be looking for a long time – probably without success) Perhaps I am burying my head in the sand, but the view down here is a lot better than up there!

I would welcome people’s views but fear that individual situations would be discussed thus adding to the controversial minefield of opinion that already exists. I would love to hear whether you think I am being rather pessimistic about the direction the world is travelling, or whether you share my overall views. Whatever you decide I sincerely hope you have a safe, happy and memorable day, Christmas and – in fact – life!

Who am I? Do you know me?

There is such a fine line between saying, and feeling, what is right or wrong in life. Whether to be honest or speak the truth in the hope that people will accept that you mean everything you say always with the best intentions. Or whether to drop into normality and follow the rest in the hope that you will be accepted.

I’m on Facebook, as probably are most of you are too. I still don’t know why I am on it as I get passionate about some of the subjects raised and feel the need to throw my opinion into the ring for what it is worth. I really do accept that it is exactly that, merely my opinion and I find constructive feedback healthy. But I have upset a few people, actually quite a few people. I feel this is because I have the audacity to say what many people think.

Opinionated, arrogant, above his station? Heard them all, and sometimes it gets to me. But my wife says that if I get upset by people’s reactions then don’t put myself in the firing line. But I liken that to the fact that I may see a man beating a woman. I feel I would intervene and may get a smack in the mouth for doing so. So to avoid a painful smack in the mouth, shall I turn my back and let the woman get a beating? Not me!

There are rules to life, we are like marbles in a tray. A small vibration can set us all off banging against one another, then it settles down and stops, giving us our own bit of space. But shake the tray and the marbles become displaced, shooting outside of the tray itself landing everywhere. The pattern to life has gone.

Imigration, religion, crime, politics are all subjects I, and many others, have strong opinions on. And the opinions we give take into account the feelings of others. Is someone gay? Or black? Or Asian? Or catholic? Or Muslim? Or a soldier? Or a terrorist? Or violent? Or ill, or depressed? Or any of millions of labels that belong to us all? Can one work alongside another, or are they best kept apart?

All of the above are people. They have all been born wherever they are born. They have no choice. England, Syria, America, Russia? They get their first “tag”. That is their tag for life. They are English, or Syrian, or American or Russian. If there is a world war, already at just one day old, it is decided on which side they should belong.

Will they be christened, or baptised or welcomed into any of the hundreds of faiths around the world. Before the age of one they have their second tag. They are now an American Catholic, an English Jew, a Syrian Muslim, we can mix any of countless religions and faiths and beliefs and places of birth. Already the departments are starting to exist.

Before five they belong to a wealthy family, they belong to an average family, they belong to a poor family. At the lower end of the scale they learn that it’s okay for these rich people as they don’t have to worry. The rich kids wonder why the poor kids live the way they do. We are all moved into classes. There are now so many divides. Aged five they have a definite spot in society that doesn’t match their peers.

Before their teens they discover imigrants are scroungers, blacks are aggressive, the jews all stick together, poor people are chavs, rich people are snobs, irish are thick, northern England people are common while Londoners are cockneys with exception to those buying posh homes who are “up their own arse!” Parents opinions are passed down to their children who then share it with their friends. We are now creating more divide between people who are ………people! We are all just people, we were all born without being a part of that decision. We can be held anywhere in the world as babies and most people will smile at how sweet that baby is. Whether it is black, white, Jewish, Muslim, Chinese, Catholic, whatever. It is a baby. A sweet, innocent child brought into this world, which is now not that big.

I despair at how the man next door cannot be judged on how well he performs as the man next door. How the person (underline person) cannot be judged on whether he/she smiles, which would make me feel happy. How that man or woman in hospital is saving our life, and not because their skin is a different colour, but because they want to.

Yes, I feel that we cannot take every immigrant into this country as we have to protect the future. There is a realistic side to things which need to be done. We cannot sit back and let the world happen without any sort of organisation and control. But this is a statistical problem, not a racial one.

I feel sad that wars, and discrimination, and unfounded opinions split us up, and tear us apart. Dogs have different breeds. Should a Labrador mix with a poodle? Are the expensive breeds more posh than the others? Are mongrel dogs the lowest of the low? No, they are dogs, and we judge them on what they are actually like as a dog, but in the meantime they all mix with one another unaware of what breed they are. They are all just dogs!

I want to make people see people for who they are, not what they are. This blog is pathetic. it is like a solitary star in a galaxy, not making the slightest bit of difference. You have read this and will judge me by my writings, because you can’t see me. You don’t know who I am, what I am, or where I fit in society. You are judging me merely by what you read.

If only life was the same!

Chrissy Noel of Faeries

Connor Wells picBTD SmallConnor Wells picToffees

It’s a strange feeling. I am 63 so I decide to help organise a music festival. You know, sometimes I even surprise myself. A music festival????

A friend of mine, Fay Boissieux, works as a fund raiser for Sue Ryder. They were having a country fare on a Sunday in August, and she mentioned that most of the marquees etc were being put up on the Friday and would be sitting there on the Saturday. If only they could be utilised to raise more money. So the idea of a music festival was born. Perhaps a few people singing, a few buskers, something to eat etc.

We now have an event that starts at 3.00pm and goes onto 10.00pm. We have family entertainment all afternoon into the early evening, we have stalls, attractions for the kids including a two hour disco and lots of different food all around the site. For the serious minded music followers we have 30 musical acts performing live on four different stages. We have all range of music from rock to classical, duets, 8 piece manic bands, in fact if you like it, we have it. A bar, a prize for best act of the day, a headlining band and a DJ offers an alternative into the night.

Busk till Dusk was born, and is blooming. You may recall me running the Lolly for Polly fundraiser. Busk till Dusk had the same catchy rhyming title that, once again, seemed to have caught on. It rolls off the tongue. We were on our way and there was no turning back. Publicity and technical people jumped on board and the lead singer with one of our acts joined in to help as he had the contacts and that certain flair needed that this crocky old 63 year old didn’t possess. He looked good, I looked shit! But we did it! And not only did we do it, but we did it well.

Radio slots, newspaper articles, posters everywhere, an ever increasing facebook and Twitter site as well as our own website forcing the idea down people’s throats. Everyone heard of us. They knew they had to be there as they were frightened of missing out on something that could grow bigger by the year. Being able to say “I was there at the first one” is something that may be an ice breaker at many parties to come in the future. Next year, a two day festival with 60 acts, and double again for year three. Camping overnight, bigger and better acts, some of those moved to bigger places in that time. (We wanted to get the Shires but by the time we finished thinking about it, they became famous!!) The stars of tomorrow are those appearing this week.

So this week we promote the “bums on seats” project. Not that there are many seats, there are, however, lots of hay bales. We need to make lots of money. Fay is like a war horse. She doesn’t stop and I think she has double Duracell pushed into her back. I must try to keep up! It is now Wednesday 10.00pm. The event will finish at 10.00pm Saturday 8th August. 72 hours. And then it all happens. If it turns out as well as we think it will I shall be bitten by the music promotion bug! I shall move onto another charity.

But this project was hard, but so exciting. We wanted something to raise money for St John’s Hospice, in whose grounds the festival is taking place. We were okay making a bit of money. But now we want to make a lot of money. We want to be on the music calendar. We want to be “an event” worth attending. We want the acts to book for next year – this year.

I do feel quite chuffed. I don’t even know what I am going to do next. It’s like watching a film of someone but that someone isn’t me, though it really is! Do you think I am slightly eccentric? I think I may like being eccentric.

Anyway, you can come along. Yes you can. It is in Bedfordshire. Moggerhanger to be exact. Great name huh? All you have to do is click on https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/busk-till-dusk-music-festival-tickets-17760684686?aff=eac2

I want this to raise lots of money. I want everyone to enjoy themselves. I want all the acts to get great exposure because of our pre, during and post event publicity. Music is great. It reaches into me and sometimes takes over. it does the same for many. Busking is raw talent, nothing superficial, nothing made up, no technical knowledge to make someone sound ten times better than they are. It is stripped of all it’s falseness, what you see is what you get.

For seven hours of total live music and entertainment, the most expensive online ticket is £5.00. That’s a good price isn’t it? For those who smoke it is just ten cigarettes. For those who drink it is not even 1.5 pints. You want to be there don’t you? I know you do. Ask your friends. Quick, text them now. And then get your tickets. What a treat you are in for.

In the meantime my 63 year old body will push forward with my friend Fay, who is absolutely bonkers and a non stop ball of vitality, to try to make this a great success. A hospice does great work, we all know that. One day, it may be me or you requiring their services. Sue Ryder do this day in, day out. Year in, year out. The best we can do is to support them. This way, by buying tickets, you do. And you get a damn good day in the process.

Email me at busktilldusk@mail.com if you have problems getting your tickets. In the meantime, see you there, and next year and the year after that. God, this fun!!!!

Passion for Sale!!

I have this feeling that I can conquer the world – alone. There is nothing I can’t achieve. If something cannot be done, then give it to me and I shall achieve it. Of course, I know I can’t, but for that split initial second I feel I can. I don’t know what makes me feel this way. I have, deep inside me, this feeling called passion – big time. For everything. I write massive long statuses on Facebook (I’m well known for them!) They bore everyone to death. But once I start I can’t stop. I want somebody to write to me and say “Okay Keith, you want to run the country, let’s go for it!” But it’s not going to happen and I get quite upset when I realise that they don’t want to harness my enthusiasm for the good of everything. I don’t really do Twitter as they only give me 140 letters, and after 140 letters I have only just begun to warm up.

I know some people may think it daft that I seem to take on the plight of the underdog and try to make it better where others have failed. In my heart I want to help these people because they don’t have the fiery passion I have and they are unsure where to begin. I begin by writing, then writing more and then more. Some people have said “We saw your write up and how long it was, so didn’t bother to read it!” But if you don’t read it how are we going to save the world? I sometimes get upset when people don’t share my enthusiasm and overwhelming desire to succeed. Don’t they want the world to be better? Don’t they want the homeless to have homes? Don’t they want more money for the NHS? Am I a Lone Ranger charging around on my white steed?

Don’t get me wrong. I am not somebody who thinks they have all the answers because I don’t. I just wish I did. I am not telling everyone how good I can be. It’s not the fame I want but just to be able to springboard a positive action amongst others. Then when it rolls and works I am happy to take a backseat and watch it prosper.

I do sometimes try to stop, and be like normal people. But I really do find normality quite boring. Not only that but I would give up, then something I read, or see on the news, or hear will fire up the passion and I shall be starting all over again. By the time I depart this world I would have loved to have achieved something. Not sure what that will be, but I feel I should make sure it happens. In a way it may seem an extrovert, or even arrogant goal with which to achieve. But it is probably the reverse. I need to leave a legacy for my children. Not having a father all of my life I want to leave something they can be proud of. To say to their children “You’re granddad made this happen!”

So in the meantime, whilst I wait to alter the course of history I do my own thing to help in whatever way I can. I have a site that is open as a public forum to the town in which I live. I have a site where we are trying to raise £10,000 to help a mum have a second mastectomy after being diagnosed as having cancer whilst pregnant. We have, so far, raised about £7,000. (To donate go to http://www.lollyforpolly.com)

I am now involved in raising money for Sue Ryder to help our local hospice by organising, with a friend, a one day busking festival. (For info go to http://www.facebook.com/busktilldusk)

Yes, I have written all of this so that my little fundraising events can get a bit more publicity. If you are still reading this, and my close friends probably aren’t, (Ha Ha!) you may even consider looking at the sites, donating if you can, spreading the word and helping me to help others.

It’s not changing the world, it’s not even changing a bit of history. But look at it as practicing for the big one. Whatever that may be. This blog won’t reach millions, I really wish it would, but someone may just read it and say “Maybe he can do something!” I recall years ago, when I was looking for work, I made a flyer selling myself as a sports car (Top of the range car, 56 years on the clock, fine tune your company, take you where you want to go etc etc). I posted these round many industrial estates and local companies. I had several calls but one of them was from the managing director of a company fairly local who said to me “I don’t know whether you are stark raving bonkers or brilliant!” I said I was both and started working there two weeks later. Not sure if he ever made his mind up what I was. Not quite sure I know myself, probably the former.

So on we go. If you can’t do anything to change the world yourself you can either contact me and we can pool our great ideas, you can donate to Lolly for Polly by contacting the website and pressing the donate button, you can go to the busking site and read what it is all about and follow and share our page, or you can agree that I may have a screw loose. Or you can do the whole lot.

Have to go now. Need to go and get experience that will enhance my CV. This will hold me in good stead when I eventually see the advertisement in the situations vacant column of The Times that says “Man wanted to save the world!!”

IMG_00002137 - CopyLFP

Hard work, but so, so worth it!!


This has been such hard work. I didn’t realise, when I took this on, how hard it would be, but I had to do it!!

You may have already read that my dear friend Polly Simpson was diagnosed with cancer whilst pregnant with her second child. She had a mastectomy and chemotherapy all whilst still pregnant. Alfie is now a beautiful young boy. However, after applying for a second mastectomy plus reconstructive surgery Polly was turned down, despite her encologist, and the hospital supporting her. Another hospital offered her a lifeline, but they too refused her funding. So now we have Lolly for Polly, a fundraiser to allow Polly the surgery she deserves. Surgery that can possibly reduce the chance of the cancer returning, so that she can see her children growing up. Plus it can make her feel as near to the attractive, normal women she was. As a single parent, that is important to her.

We started a face book site and people reacted by donating money. I was so surprised at how many wonderful people wanted to put their hands in their pockets to support a girl they did not know. These people helped our cause, and helped us to believe that most people in the world are really kind and thoughtful. I put together a website. I had never done this before, and I kept adding bits, and changing it around until it looked liked something worth looking at. I added a page I called “Kind People” and this listed every individual, organisation, company etc who had helped us to raise money. I wanted people to know that I understand that this is not my project, but the project of all of these people. And they deserve recognition for their kindness.

We then had the idea of an event to raise money. Polly and Lynn Willison thought an Old Skool Disco playing music of the 80’s and 90’s would be a good idea. a great friend printed the tickets for free and the venue not only gave us an excellent rate but donated a meal for two for the raffle. The disco appealed, people wanted to come and applied for tickets, and even suggested dressing up for the night in the clothes of that era.

Meanwhile, others had arranged a shopping evening that raised £400, another is taking place at the end of the month, a tea room put on a psychic night, and a pub had quiz nights with the money from these events going to Lolly for Polly. People were reacting so kindly and the name Lolly For Polly was catching on. People were starting to hear about us. Local newspapers carried the story as front page news. A local TV station came to see us at Polly’s house and earlier this week we had a half hour spot on local radio. This was all a result of constant badgering of anyone that could give us publicity. Everyone was a target to help us achieve the end result.

Our next venture was a raffle. We started to appeal to companies, organisations, beauty shops, sporting clubs, family attractions, theatres, London attractions, in fact anyone and everything we could get into. We bought the licence required and ordered the raffle tickets. The prizes started to come in. Arsenal FC, Chelsea FC, David Essex, FI signed caps, day out vouchers, beauty shop vouchers, signed photos, hampers, vouchers for meals etc etc. To date we have over 60 prizes and some more will arrive before the draw on 28th November 2014. All we need is someone famous to make the draw, so we can make the raffle draw an event in itself.

We had a kind person who was doing some work on a racing car contact us and offered to donate around £2000 of his earnings to the Lolly for Polly fund. It is hard to keep all this going, but every now and again the kindness, thoughtfulness and generosity make it so worthwhile. People certainly do react. It was an amazing gesture.

Every day we press on, trying to keep the name out there in whatever way we can. Making the words “Lolly for Polly” something that everyone will come to recognise, and hopefully as something completely worthwhile. We e-mail everyone and everybody for prizes, publicity, putting up posters, anything at all. I update facebook and the website daily, my friends must be fed up reading it all but there are always new people it attracts.

And then there is my blog! Yes folks, I have written this in the hope that you will read it and see exactly what we have achieved to help a brave an inspiring young mother of two. Polly is not unique, there are many other girls in a similar situation, and when Polly gets her much deserved surgery, I may yet carry on to help others, in her name. None of these girls ask to be affected by this disease, none of them wish to worry whether they have a future, and they don’t deserve to feel awful about their own bodies, feeling unattractive though they are not.

If you have got this far, thank you for reading it and thank you for your patience. I am hoping too that my blogging friends in America can take this cause internationally. Please look at our face book page http://www.facebook.com/lollyforpolly2 and also look at our website http://www.lollyforpolly.com

If you can donate, buy a raffle ticket, give ideas, send support, share this with your friends, spread the word for us so that others may help, it would be absolutely amazing. This girl, this brave girl Polly, will live to see her children have their children if we have anything to do with it. She will also feel like a proper woman again capable of feeling attractive as she once did.

It is hard work, but in a way it has enriched my life too. The world really is a nice place. Please look at our sites, please help in whatever way you can. My email address is willisonkeith@yahoo.co.uk in case you need to get in touch. Sorry to hit you with our plea, but thank you so much for reading this!

Anybody want to join me in saving the world?

I want to save the world. I want to be a pioneer of new innovative methods to prevent people getting hurt, animals getting hurt, international warfare, paedophilia, murder, theft, rape, narcotics, prostitution and anything else that one could consider not normal in a normal society.

I am ready to start. I feel powerful enough to do this. I have the one thing that is, apparently, the most important requirement, and they call it passion. I know I have it because my teeth are clamped together and I keep going “Grrrr!” In all these years. over past centuries other passionate people have tried, and unfortunately failed. Very famous people who, the mere mention of their names, conjures up feelings of greatness and power, but they didn’t do it. It is still increasing. It has to be stopped! I am that man!

So now I have come to go where no man has been before. I feel like a crusader with a cape ready to jump of a building in the middle of a crowd in London, with my hand on my hip and my cape blowing in the wind. To the astonished gasps of the ever increasing throng I tell them they must worry no more, because I have come to save them. The applause rings in my ears, which start to hurt a bit so I move off to begin saving the whole world.

I should have made a plan as there is so much going wrong. To do one thing at a time, probably beginning with the worst. But I didn’t have time. Whilst doing this people could be dying so I must act now. There is no time to waste. Do I need an outfit? I decide that is too pretentious so decide against it. Anyway, I shall need to mingle incognito so as to get to the core of the problem without giving advanced warning by wearing a blue PVC costume with yellow shorts outside of my tights. I think, perhaps, just a badge with “World Changing Vigilante” on it might let people know discreetly I am here without causing panic.

There is no time to waste, I head for London because this is where a lot of the crime happens. I read the Daily Mail. I was going to stay in Potton but realised that this would not make much difference catching an illegally parked pensioner in Tesco Car Park. Hardly going to make the front pages!

The train left Sandy and headed for Kings Cross. I didn’t sit down, I stood, because apparently that’s what tough men do in the movies. I looked at every single individual in case I may be needed early. Many of the people returned my stare, some looking at my badge and sniggering. But I knew they were smiling because they were impressed.

At Kings Cross I left the train, and also the station walking out into the dangerous streets. I could feel the filth of crime, the sound of wrongdoing, the vibration of corruptness. Prostitutes were walking either side of me, one of them was about eighty-four, two of them, my God, were even in wheelchairs. How low could they stoop? Three drug dealers were in the corner pretending to be normal people drinking a latte. But I knew different. I passed a building called Subway, and my gut feeling was that this was a cover up for a illegal gambling casino. I knew I was in the right place because close by there was a large old building called St Pancras. They couldn’t fool me. No way was this a church!! What were they hiding?

I went up to five large and heavily tattooed criminals sitting outside the local public house drinking bootleg beer. I could feel it was all going to kick off. I approached them whilst tiptoing.. I knew they were up to no good. This was where I had to start. I moved towards the biggest one from behind, flashed my “World Changing Vigilante” badge, pushed his arm up his back and began to read him his rights whilst spilling his beer onto his boots.

What I didn’t bank on was the fact that members of the public did not come to my aid as I had envisaged when I set up my plan to conquer the worlds worst problems. I used to be very good at maths and realised that five against one was bad odds. My mathematical calculations pre world changing were set at thirty-one against five assuming that thirty people would realise that I was trying to help them live in a safer world, and join me at that moment. But it was not to be. The three drug dealers even had the cheek to order and eat a chiabatta whilst someone stamped on my head.

I have abandoned my plan to save the world and can now understand why others failed before me. I bet if Nelson Mandella started a brawl in the street he wouldn’t be left to go it alone! My passion had begun to wain anyway, and instead of combatting crime and violence I decided to stay out of the way and not make eye contact with anybody.

Whilst I am recuperating I have decided to start a campaign against bad hospital food. I shall let you know how I got on as soon as I can see the keyboard through swollen eyes. And then type it once my broken fingers have healed. I am looking forward to my next venture.
(As dictated to Staff Nurse Weston at my hospital bed in intensive care near King’s Cross)