Brodie White has lived on Tasmania's streets off and on for nearly a decade.
And sleeping rough can be dangerous. In the past few months Mr White's tent has been set alight and slashed and his belongings vandalised.
"I wanted to cry, but I've got no tears left," he says.
Mr White got his first taste of homelessness after finishing school, when had to move out of a boarding house. With nowhere to live he turned to the streets.
Nine years later he's still pitching his tent across the state punctuated only by occasional spells in jail.
A combination of poor mental health, former drug use, a criminal record, and driving offences leaves the 29-year-old with little choice.
The rising homeless
But he's more worried about the new faces he's seeing on the streets.
"I've stopped worrying less and less about myself and my future and I'm more worried about everyone else," he says.
Mr White lives on welfare payments. He receives some help from social services and has spent time in emergency accommodation, but hasn't been able to secure long-term housing.
"I'm beginning to lose more faith in the government and its duty to protect its people," he says.
"People could be a little more lenient. We're not the bad guys. Most of us never were. We never choose to live this life. In fact, most of us were forced into it unwillingly."
Keeping the faith
"I still have faith that maybe one day things might change. I'm definitely not going to expect it though. I know better," he says.
Supporting people through homelessness, Mr White says, "all comes down to common sense" - more shelters, power boxes and 24-hour toilets for starters.
My story: Bec Pridham
I'm a 28-year-old journalist living in Launceston, Tasmania.
Getting a rental down here is a rat race. When I first arrived from the mainland I went to multiple inspections, along with crowds of 30 or more others.
I remember the faces of the people who also looked at the house I now rent.
There was an elderly couple with their grandchild. It hurt me that they were still in the rental market.
There was a mother with her teenage son. She sighed, exasperated. She'd been to more than 30 inspections.
I got the place and these people didn't. And that bothers me. We all need a roof over our heads and I am no more deserving of one than they are.