Getting over Homelesness

1. Gerard

I haven't managed to get my hands on any supplies for a while; meaning I haven't painted in a while. I fucking hate all of this. Because I can't afford paints and paper, I can't sell my paintings to buy more paints and paper.
The whole 'starving artist' thing is starting to wear of on me now. Probably because I'm literally starving. The last thing I ate was half a sandwich someone gave me yesterday evening and even then that was the only thing I'd eaten all day. I'm starting to wish i took my life in another path. The one I've taken seems to not be going anywhere soon. To my deathbed perhaps; sleeping in the cold, starving, dehydrating, sleep deprivation. This is getting out of hand.
It wouldn't be too bad if I could actually get a job, but you need an address or a phone which I currently don't have. I can usually sell my paintings for some money, depending on the quality. I get from £5-£60 for my paintings usually. I once got £120 for a painting of the moonlit sky, whilst it was raining on the streets and the orange glow from the street lamps streaming across the page.
If only I could have that now. The money or the painting to sell. Even the supplies. I currently have no paper left, and only yellow paint. Not much I can do with that. Likewise with the 36p i have in my pocket.

As the day darkens, it starts to freeze me up, my breath coming out in ghostly wisps of condensation. There is one thing most people don't realise about the homeless; we can't sleep through the night because we could literally freeze to death. I have to walk about, willing myself not to succumb to sleep deprivation and let my eyes droop closed as I sink into the ground where I'm standing.
My stomach grumbles, causing me to look through my backpack for the countless time today. Just to make sure I've not bypassed any food hidden in there. I hadn't. My stomach feels as though soon it will start feeding on my other internal organs. The gnawing feeling of emptiness inside my stomach is almost unbearable. It makes me double over in pain before crying out a little and deciding i have to find somewhere to rest. I'm so weak.
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This is merely a result of my own insomnia and sleep deprivation and boredom.