It is so funny how the little things can do the most damage, I have been living in San Francisco for my whole life and been pushing and pulling my heavy junk up and down these streets for about 7 years now. I remember living a regular life, waking up at 7 in the morning, drinking my hot coffee and always burning my tongue while driving on my way to work for a 9–4 shift. Living on my own, paying bills, doing what ever I want; however, this all went down hill when my loving mother got sick. Once I heard she was in the hospital my heart dropped to my stomach. I was with her through out the whole time, seeing her on the bed was the worst pain of my life. Spending all my time in the hospital and helping pay for everything was the turning point. I lost my job because I spent all my time at the hospital, I had no money, I used it all on the hospital. Days passed, I lost my mother.`Knowing I had nothing didn’t upset me, I would of done everything all over again. Since then I have been living in these cold San Francisco streets. Feeling the cold hard winds running through my body. Not knowing when my next meal was going to be. Having these really thick and dirty calluses on my hands. Smelling absolutely horrible but yet used to it. Sleeping anywhere that seems comfortable, and always keeping my stuff with me, I’m not living a life full of regret. What I did to lead me up to this was my choice. Things happen for a reason.