ANY little HELP counts. I have decided to go forth in a unique direction. Ever since first becoming chronically homeless back in January 2015, I had to learn tough ropes in such a short amount of time. It felt as though it had wrung out all of my power and energy that I had done what I could prior. All considering the not so always pleasant experiences, here I am now, stabilized and secured with my own place for only a few weeks, and I am truly blessed for that. I had the financial means coming over starting just five months ago. I thought, this is when I will finally be winding down and I will find a place to live. In South Florida. Fort Lauderdale. My hometown. If anyone lives or once lived in that area, I think you should know just how expensive it is to be a Florida resident. Even if you get a grand a month, rent tends to be higher, even if we're talking about a little studio. I believe everyone looks for the studio deal for $700, and the fact upon that is it rarely comes up. There are families and individuals who are on waiting lists for Section 8 that can take up to six years and also waiting in the unknown of their survival in the most dangerous and unpredictable circumstances. I am honestly not entirely sure how anyone gets on the waiting list for public housing unrelated to Section 8. Every time I check the local housing authorities, they claim to be closed. I believe you literally have to make it your life. Check and contact every day until there's a spot open, which is rare. So, I had decided I did not want to partake in going through this level of insanity. I'm going to find a decent place that I can afford, and I won't need to think about it anymore. It wasn't so much the money. I could've possibly saved a few hundred, though even prior to waiting for my financials, I really didn't find openings on waiting lists. Even if I had, a couple more years of waiting, and in the meantime, considered not spending any of my money until it was my turn to be approved and housed, and being homeless is really the only option. You may have friends on the streets that are on decent hopes they will be rescued soon, and the next, they're gone. Some may have not been healthy from the start, whether physically, emotionally and mentally, or both. However, I do believe the shattering environment does cause early death. I am now settled in a sweet, serene mini country house...in Alabama. Alabama. Not my hometown state. I do like it here. I had tried to locate an affordable place in Florida, something I could afford every month, and realized it was only creating unnecessary anxiety, finding a solution that was rare and nearly impossible to find, and when you do, you may discover unsettling news that you do not qualify, whether it's based on how much income you have, or they may not accept the disabled, or they're looking for someone who works. That could automatically eliminate the homeless. I did this for about a month, and finally, I told myself, I am not putting myself through this agony anymore. I have researched Alabama for a couple of months on and off, and it just dawned on me. I did a little house searching and acted as though I was already there, and I was receiving offers from renters, $700 a month few bedroom houses. I was ecstatic. For the first time in a very long time, I felt a great sense of hope. I am supposed to leave and start a new life. It will not entirely erase everything I have gone through. Maybe it truly is as they sing, Sweet Home Alabama. It took me about two weeks until I knew where I'd be staying for a long while, which wasn't bad, all considering it had been my first time here and no transportation. A part of me truly wants to just stay here and enjoy the time I have left, however long that may be. I wasn't given a life estimation. And there is a huge part of me that knows I have an obligation to uphold and I can't simply erase the damages that are currently in continuation and approximately 80 people living on the streets or in shelters die each year in Broward County alone, located in South Florida. I have recently written a poem within a week of getting away from that environment. What truly inspired me was the recent loss of a dear friend I had lost half a year ago (it feels like only yesterday). I sensed he needed a comforter in the roughest time of his life, guidance. My instinct was to be there for him, even if I truly could not help him. I had bought him some food that could fill him up for a little while on many occasions and stayed out on the streets to look out for him, keep him as warm as possible on the chilliest nights, with no regrets. That's what friends do. They look out for each other, even when you don't have enough money for yourself. I had a little more of an advantage in some ways that a shelter had finally taken me in when I had attempted to previously. Let's just say some shelters require you to have a record with the county in order to get in. I truly had no idea about this. Oddly enough, after they had declined me in becoming a client, ironically, that is when I did things I wouldn't have normally done and wasn't so proud of. That's when my bad habit of shoplifting started. When I had gotten caught twice, I was able to choose mental court to avoid jail and probation, being that I had dealt with mental health majority of my life. My biggest obstacle is Autism Spectrum Disorder. That's when they decided to place me in this shelter. I was away and not always there for my dear friend for a year and a half. The true upside was that I was closer to receiving disability benefits. Sadly, I did not receive confirmation of my approval until about two months after he had passed. I was hoping he could pull through. There was no way I wouldn't be approved. As soon as I'd get the money, I would place him in temporary housing, no matter the cost and be there for him as I promised. Maybe our love story in turn would help us get affordable housing altogether. I will never truly know now. Now, I have prompted to speak of our love in a sense through a poem, which I just found out a couple of days ago has song potential from one music group. I knew it even before they nicely emailed me after sharing it. It had been a long time since I had held a pen, actually come up with true feelings I feel strongly, write them on paper. I don't always feel truly set on something as I do on this given moment. Sometimes, for me, it can be work in itself to have a positive outlook on things. This is different, special. I sense my true calling. Something is telling me to reach out. Something is telling me to ask for help toward putting an end to what ended my dear friend's life. I am going to take a step forward to making my poem a true song dedication for others who may be going through the same thing and will give them a sense of hope, literally. Some music groups ask for about $500 up front in order to place your song with professional musicians and singers, and publishers. I'm going to be researching more for the best course of action before I have anyone have my lyrics of course. I am also intrigued in the idea of having a music video based on the hometown in which the homeless are out today. I am counting on anyone who wishes to be generous. I will be attending a homeless memorial for the holidays to pay respects for those who lost their lives, especially my dear friend who also has Autism. Those with that form of disability, which can be debilitating at times, will have unpleasant experiences on the streets. God bless, my life isn't over yet. It's the beginning. I could do something. By the holidays, on that particular day, I want to feel I could do something. To change the death rates, reduce them. Soon, the information would not be needed to be given out. It would no longer exist. People are living, off the streets. Everyone is in shelters, entirely independent. That is my goal. I will use the fundraising money to create my poem into a #1 song hit. Everyone could look up to it. Half of the rewards earned for my words separate from this charity will go to HOPE South Florida.