On Saturday night Leftwing Idiot, Poppy, Fat Sister, King Russell and I went out for a drink near the castle. It seems that lots of other people had the same idea and the bars of Peckham were heaving with people.

I’ve lived in this area for almost fifteen years and don’t feel things have changed that much. I’ve heard people describe it as “up-and-coming” numerous times over the years and I’ve always dismissed this idea. But tonight, Peckham looked painfully hip and I wasn’t sure how I feel about it. Eventually we found a place to settle – in the courtyard of a busy bar with a small gallery space attached.

We’d just got some drinks and started to relax when I had a ‘ticcing fit.’ Straight away Leftwing Idiot and Fat Sister wheeled me into the quieter space of the gallery. The fit was extremely painful so Leftwing Idiot and Fat Sister helped me out of my wheelchair onto the floor. Leftwing Idiot pointed out we could easily have got mistaken for a piece of performance art if anyone had walked in.

As I lay there flailing about amongst the exhibits I started to make a very strange noise. I kept saying “Aloe vera” – something I’ve occasionally been known to say during a fit. This time it sounded very different from usual, with the words coming out in a strange cat-like screech that rattled round the white walls of the gallery.

This odd noise made Leftwing Idiot and Fat Sister laugh. It amused me too as I lay on the floor thinking about a human, speaking like a cat speaking like a human, in a gallery, in Peckham.