The roller coaster life living on the streets

Spend any time around the Sydney Street Choir and the friendly face of Felix will always leave you feeling better about the world.

Sometimes, it is easy to forget that the Street Choir exists to assist too many people who are homeless or isolated.

Felix knows what it is like to live on the streets of Sydney.

Below is his story delivered at the recent Homeless Persons’ Memorial Service in Martin Place Sydney.

What does it mean to be homeless?

It means learning to survive in the cracks of the city.

It means sleeping under the stars – not because it’s romantic, but because there is no roof to call your own.

It means making friends fast and losing them even faster.

Some friends vanish overnight – no goodbye, no warning.

Just gone.

I still think about Busker Stew – the man could play anything with strings.

Trina who always had a big laugh and a sharp tongue.

Amir, who shared his last cigarette like it was gold.

Big John – a gentle giant with a broken back and an unbreakable soul.

And Graeme – no one spelt his name right, but everyone remembered his kindness.

These aren’t just names.

These are people that mattered.

People who walked on the same pavement, sat on the same benches and stood in the same food line.

And now they are just gone.

I was once homeless too, sleeping on the streets of Sydney.

I remember Occupy Sydney – the tent city at the top of Martin Place.

I was here during the siege at the chocolate shop.

It was a strange, heavy time, but somehow people still looked after each other.

That’s what kept me going, the small acts of kindness, the stories, the strange street family we built without even meaning to.

I came to Martin Place in 2009.

Now it is 2025 and many of the people I once knew are no longer with us.

Sooner or later we will all go.

I think better later, but life doesn’t always give you that choice.

I’ll be 70 this December.

And while I plan to stick around as long as I can, if I do kick the bucket, you are welcome at my funeral.

You’re all welcome at my funeral.

Bring a story.

Bring a song.

Bring your heart.

Because even when we’re gone, love and memory keep walking these streets.