Letters from Scum Island: 1

Dear Former Self

Well, I thought maybe it was time to send you a letter from your future, giving you a few pointers as to what you might like to avoid (tip: everything). Maybe the major misstep you might want to think twice about before ploughing gormlessly onwards and doing anyway is DON’T COME HERE. I know, as you sit there, relatively unwrinkled and still with an optimally functioning pair of lungs and a set of teeth that don’t look like lolling tombstones rearing from the fog of Black Death era graveyard, that you feel you have to go SOMEWHERE. You probably feel like you can’t stay where you are, living a lie, in the wall to wall hellscape that you always seem to create from whatever you’re given – and I know you think that moving to an even more depressed part of the country than you’re in now will somehow make everything…less depressing – and I know you think you’ve managed to meet the love of your life on the internet (not for the first time) and that  throwing in your job and moving in with her and her four kids to go on the dole SEEMS like a smart move, but…it’s not. As hard as that may be for you to see right now – it’s NOT a smart move.

In the last month there has been – within an stone’s throw from where I’m sitting now – a child raped, a murder, several stabbings, and four goats found dead with bags of dogshit stuck in their throats. So, think carefully…

I’m going to start sending you daily reports in the hope that this encourages you in your efforts to construct a time machine to get us out of this mess. It’s our only hope.

Lots of Love.



PS The enclosed photo shows what the view from your back door will be in ten years time if you persist in your current nonsense. XXX