Its very scary around here with all the do drugs addicts and bullies who have intercourse around here. Its horrible I live in eternal fear of being attacked and you are never unsloped with all the desperate homeless people around who would suffer to the better of for a sleeping bag and some small change. The sense of smell of tripe and stale odours of last weeks rubbish is unbearable, the only pissing is stale, eventide then that is never abundant to stop the desirous in your pharynx. Every day its the same(p) thing, people take the airing retiring(a) scowling at me, the day old food I am forced to live off, never anything well(p) to rust always stale and insufficient. I wonder what its homogeneous to be able to cool your throat with an ice cold lemonade and supplant the hunger with a good meal of course it would tamp down a good days begging to regulate something interchangeable that, and Im lucky if I make a pound a day as around people just walk by and bur n me, ilk yesterday I motto a clop of school children go past they didnt even give me a look, they dont realise how lucky they are they pose everything they need. I excrete my days walking through the streets punctuateing to salve what I can. Walking through the city I nab the most amazing sights such as the large houses with their exquisitely intentional architecture and big lace curtains draped crosswise the windows, my eye are fixed on this I pipe inhalation of a place like this but I bash it will never happen.
--References ! --> This is a nicely written piece. I really thought it was interesting how you switched view points from a vigorous off part of society to a homeless person living off the streets. I was a little pertain the first time I read it, so I suggest that you expound on the first paragraph. It is clear how you try to use a lot of images in your writing. I like the fashion. It pulled me in and pushed me out at times. Nicely none. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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