So, personally, I like to “stealth” as much as I can. I try to dress nice. I shave and wash my face, or I try to anyways. I legit get compliments re: my outfit all the time.

But at the same time, I have no shame about being homeless. I own it. I think that’s the thing that’s helped me the most—I’m unashamed. About the fact itself that I’m homeless at least. I feel like shit when I’m living in a tent or when I don’t bathe.

I also avoid the “bum feeds” and things like that. I’ll suffer getting soaked to the bone before I’ll wear one of those shitty plastic rain parkas. I’ll suffer the cold in inadequate but fashionable-ish clothes before I’ll wear just like, whatever to stay warm. I’ve been homeless 6 of the last 7 years and everyone thinks I’m a naive child but I still have all my fingers and toes and I’ve never been beaten up or robbed.

I also stay connected to the world of the living. All the stupid tweakers I know (I’m a tweaker, I can say it) shut out the world—they don’t go to coffee shops or whatever even when these places don’t care whether you buy something or not. They won’t go in and ask if they can spare some leftover food, or ask for a tent or a tarp or a pair of headphones—and then they get all mad at me because people give me things (because I ask, and because I’m nice). They either camp far away from everyone or in these hideous multi-person camps on the sidewalk that scare away normal people and attract scumbags, and as a result they create their own misery. They don’t trust regular ass people who legit care, but they’ll trust some freak named Smurf who smokes an 🎱 of meth every day. And then they’re mad when this guy steals from them, or something.

Are you homeless?