Congratulations on Becoming Homeless!
Congratulations! You've just defaulted on your mortgage and opted out of being a homeowner (or leaser or renter or haver-at-all). You can live Anywhere You Want! (*As long as it's not on city, state, or private property.) I know you've always dreamed about having the entire world as your home - most people do - and now it's yours! You've become a citizen of the world, like Benjamin Franklin, or that guy who stands on the library steps saying he's Benjamin Franklin. There are, however, a few basic guidelines you should follow for your new home-free lifestyle.
Here's a hard-to-swallow yet necessary-like-your-medication-to-swallow fact: Life sucks. The world threw you in the dirt and then kicked you while you were down. Then, as you were yelling at it to stop kicking you, it kept on kicking you and took pictures of it and posted them on Facebook. You need an outlet to vent your sorrow and tears of rage. That outlet is music. Almost all homeless people play guitar, and they're really good at it, too, because they have all day to practice, and the world in general hates them and therefore demands a higher standard of them.
Here's another fun fact about guitar playing: It was invented by clowns. Here's an austere fact: It might save your life. Should you ever find yourself at a bonfire gathering of hardcore homeless who probably want to stab you for looking at them funny or for reminding them of that person who looked at them funny on the bus, start playing guitar. Make sure it's something depressing and soulful like blues, hard country or that new Seether song. Homeless people are so accustomed to the sounds of guitar twanging over a roaring fire that your music will become invisible to them - and so will you. Then you can play all sorts of fun pranks, like peeing in their beers, and playing "The Haunted Bindle Stick," which involves holding the titular bindle stick over your head while saying "Oooooo I'm the haunted bindle stick." Just make sure to keep periodically strumming a chord or two, or the game will quickly become "The Haunted Bindle- OH GOD STOP STABBING ME!"
Due to previous jail sentences, a large percentage of homeless people are homosexual. Maybe you are. I'm not saying that definitively or anything. I'm just saying that statistically there's a 100% chance that you're a homosexual. So yeah, I guess I am saying it definitively. But before you go exploring your newfound sexual freedom outside of what Patti Smith called "society" and you probably call "a 24-hour liquor store," remember one thing: Relationships with the homeless always end in heartbreak. ("Heartbreak" being the blanket medical term for when your heart stops working due to any number of deadly STDs, including syphilis, AIDS, mitochondria revolt, and whatever those homeless guys in C.H.U.D. had that made them attack a diner.
All homeless people dumpster dive. It's like camping in an MMO. You might find a valuable item you can sell - or you might get an infectious disease. So let me append that by saying that dumpster diving is like camping in an MMO except you might get an infectious disease. The true appeal of diving, however, lies in its feral nature. A homeless man I interviewed said that while dumpster diving he feels like an Incan tribesman hunting prey in the rainforests of Ecuador. He also said he feels like that while smoking, riding the bus, masturbating, and pretty much all the time. He then tried to assault me with a rake, to show me how durable the rake was in case I wanted to buy it from him for some wine change.