A section from my book, Gold-Lined Storms.

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So there I stood, a schizophrenic on the streets of Eugene at dawn. Dressed as a homeless man, holding a notebook filled with nearly unreadable scribbles. “What now?” I asked myself. I wanted to experience what it would be life to have nothing and be homeless but I still had little idea of what homeless people actually do with their time besides trying to find ways to numb the pain of their shattered lives. I wasn’t about go get a 6-pack and drink the day away, at least not yet.

I wondered the residential neighborhoods for a while and daydreamed. Watching people leaving their homes on the way to work. Seeing peoples reactions to me as they walked their dogs.

“What is this bum doing walking down my street?” They must be thinking to themselves.

One woman actually crossed the street. How little they know. I want to tell them I’m handsome and worked on film sets. That I make more money than them and am an award winning writer. I want to tell them that their projected perceptions of me are incorrect. I want to tell them I’m not a villain and that I’m inherently good. I might not have an answer if I was asked who I really am, but I know I’m not a villain. I’m still trying to figure out who I really am but I know that at my core, my intentions are pure. The reason I know I’m a good person is because I believe we’re all good people. It’s part of being a human to have compassion and love in your heart. If you dig past all of the layers of insanity, pain and ego there’s a playful child that just wants to be loved.

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