So begins my homeless challenge in London.
I mean, usually, James Bond has got to save the world, right?
Stop Russia from exploding their nuclear bombs.
Prevent the evil dictator from destroying the entire human race.
This James Bond, he’s just gotta survive homelessness.
Get himself off the streets.
With no help (alright some help) but little help from his friends.
I do manage to get myself off the streets.
But it’s a 3 month nightmare.
Not a penny from Social Security.
Cold, freezing, wet nights.
I get back to doing me street theatre again – man in the wind – but Wayne Scott’s back in town and there ain’t room for two windy men in one city.
So starts me homeless period in London – when I discover I am James Bond.
Now, I know most of you are thinking this bloke’s nuts.
He took too much drugs – and you’re probably right.
But, all I’m saying is… bear with me.
Fact is, I ain’t taken no drugs in two weeks, so are you saying that psychosis can stay in your mind after you stop taking crystal meth?
And if so, for how long?
All I know is, for 3 months in Phnom Penh I was convinced 100% I’m James Bond…
And now I’m back in London – sometimes I believe I’m James Bond – but other times I’m convinced it must be crystal meth psychosis.
But guess what?
I’ve even got 007 in my passport number.
Issued by the British Government.
But then again in Phnom Penh, after the tuk tuk drivers sold me skunk spiked with acid, I believed Scorsese, Spielberg and Coppola were all one person and I was their son and Phnom Penh was a Hollywood film set.
So, am I James Bond – in a reality setting – directed by Francis Ford Coppola in a ground-breaking, genre-forming masterpiece of live cinema?
Or am I trapped in a fantasy maze of Crystal Meth Psychosis?
J.B or not J.B, that is the question.