Karl explores how the places that are meant to be there to support you, instead make you feel imprisoned and alone.
I was just fucked. I was on the street and I thought my head’s gonna fall off. I need somewhere.
Luckily, the lady said, “Karl, I’ve somewhere where you can go and stay”.
I moved intro temporary accommodation two months before Christmas and I was kicked out around the 30th December.
I got asked to leave because I didn’t get back in time. I was in taking cash-in-hand jobs just to get money. If I missed the last bus that was say 10 or 11, I couldn’t get back.
I’d say at my mum’s but I’d let them know always in the correct manner. If I email telephone calls, they just didn’t have it. So. It was unfortunate. They kicked me out at a very very bad time. It was freezing, December cold and like all my clothes are in there. Everything is in there.
I’m back. I’m late. I’ve already phoned you just to tell you that I’m going to be late.
You had a roof over your head but the rules and regulations made you feel imprisoned.