Gun. The gun is sitting on the bench. I doubt it's loaded. She never has bullets lying around like that. She just keeps the gun, in her leather jacket. No one but me knows it's there. That's a scary thought. But I trust her. We all trust her. Clomping around in leather boots and a leather trench coat, gun in her pocket, pressed to her heart. She is on our side. She is here to protect us.

Cash. I've got none. I don't need it, and quite frankly I honestly think no one in the world does. Freeganism. Anti-consumerism. Stop relying so much on something they say you've never got enough of, check the dumpsters and steal from the rich. Modern day Robin Hoods are hard to come by, which is why we need more.

Conditioned. If i had money my hair would be shampooed and conditioned, but since I don't got two quarters to rub together, it isn't even washed. That's alright though. The greasy look works for me. The greasy look works for a lot of slum dwellers like myself. It's our equivalent to the "natural" look for people who can afford to get their hair cut in a place that ain't crawling with lice.

The palm of your hand can tell a lot about you if palm readers are to be believed. The life line can determine your whole fate, but i beg to differ really. They're just lines. Some people have only got 3 and others have an unlimited number depending on how much work they do. Really maybe that's what determines a person's life.