Homeless

The worst part about being homeless, however, was nothing I have just described. The worst part by far was that at the end of my workday, I had no place to go. Sure, I went to the gym and the pizzeria, but these weren’t places I could relax in. I was always on the go, moving from one place to another. This began to wear on me.

– Excerpt from My First Car Was a Motorcycle, My First Girl Was a Woman