I 've never hopped a train, but I've been homeless on and off for four years give or take. Ive got way, way too much shit- a giant four by four by one suitcase full of clothes (I have more clothes than I have any right to have) rolled up, and my enormous portfolio, and a big portfolio full of patches and spare cloth. My backpack is full of papers, cds, an umbrella, spraypaint, BF Skinner's Beyond Freedom and Dignity, a zippo, a giant zippo, a length of chain, Dr Bronner's soap, some spare socks, some Q tips, some paper towels, my toothbrush, my sketchbook, and variously numerous art supplies- attached to it is some foot-high heel black stilletto stripper shoes, a french foreign legion sleeping bag, an empty catshaped miniba, and a canvas bag full of paint, some pliers, nail polish, boot polish, scissors and two lengths of cheap rope, a disposable camera, a masterlock and key, and finally my work boots.
My jacket prolly weighs at least ten pounds, I have nails, bolts and spikes on one shoulder and chains on the other- (Piccolo from Dragon Ball Z Theory). I've got some cloth fingerless gloves pinned to it and some leather fingerless ones in the zipper pockets, which also contain a magic bag containing freeze dried tea, a floss box with a needle in it (great way to store a needle), two spools of thread, some headphones, a mini flashlight, a buck multi tool pocketknife, some clothespins, a compass, and a 3d puzzle thing. In the other zipper pocket there's a mini first aid kit containing birthday cake candles, antibacterial ointment, alcohol prep pad, some napkins and a band aid. In one breast pocket, I've got a mini notebook,a cigarette roller case, this awesome picture of a cat, and a bag of papers. In the other Breast pocket, an I Ching set I made myself. The last time I got searched by the Knockers, the cop got tired of looking through my shit and gave up when he got to the second bag.
Bet you had fun reading that.
