Selected Excerpts from the Screenplay

1. Finding Light in the Darkness

In the heart of the township, where despair hung heavy as smoke, a flicker of hope ignited. A group of children, their faces alight with laughter, danced in the dust. Their joy, a defiant act against the violence that surrounded them, was a reminder that even in the darkest of places, the human spirit could find a way to shine. He raised his camera, not to document the tragedy, but to celebrate the resilience.

2. The Price of Truth

He had seen too much. The blood, the rage, the casual cruelty. It clung to him like a shroud, staining his dreams, poisoning his soul. But he couldn't turn away. The world needed to see. The truth, however brutal, had to be told. He would bear the burden, carry the weight of witness, pay the price for shining a light on the darkness.

3. Beyond the Headlines

The headlines screamed of violence, of hatred, of a nation tearing itself apart. But he saw more. He saw the quiet courage of a woman protecting her children, the unwavering determination of a community fighting for its future, the simple acts of kindness that defied the chaos. He sought the stories beyond the headlines, the human stories that gave meaning to the struggle.

4. The Courage to Care

Fear was a constant companion, a whisper in the back of his mind, a tightening in his chest. But courage wasn't the absence of fear, it was the willingness to act in spite of it. He would walk into the fire, face the danger, because to turn away would be to betray his humanity, to deny the suffering he had witnessed.

5. Scars of the Soul

The physical wounds would heal, but the scars on his soul would remain. The images, the sounds, the smells of violence were etched into his memory, a permanent reminder of the horrors he had seen. But these scars were also a testament to his courage, a map of the battles he had fought, a reminder of the importance of his work.

6. The Power of Empathy

To truly capture the human experience, he had to connect, to empathize, to feel the pain, the joy, the fear of those he photographed. It was a dangerous path, blurring the line between observer and participant, risking his own emotional well-being. But it was the only way to tell the stories with the honesty and depth they deserved.

7. A Legacy of Hope

In the midst of chaos and despair, he sought to capture the enduring power of the human spirit. His photographs became a legacy, not just of the violence and tragedy, but of the resilience, the courage, the unwavering hope that refused to be extinguished. They were a testament to the power of witness, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, light can be found.

Streets of Gold

By AJ Lovewins

Riding a city bus. Just another day. A few passengers I don’t remember much about. This was sometime during my two years living homeless on the streets of San Francisco and LA.

I was thin then—lean.

The streets will chisel you into a god and break you down in the same breath.

That day, I was watching people go about their lives, drifting through LA as the bus pulled us from one red light to the next. LA’s good for people-watching. There’s a poetry to it—if you’re paying attention.

I might’ve been up for a few days. Back then, I was shooting meth day and night. Life had launched me into the surreal, 24/7. I’d crossed through veils, met strange beings, fallen down rabbit holes I still can’t explain.

But that day was different.

What happened on that bus—I’ll never forget.

It felt like a revelation. It moment with wings.

See, homelessness was new to me. I didn’t think it could happen to someone like me. I had once looked down at “those people.” Street level. I thought their consciousness was beneath mine.

I thought I was different.

Let me rewind for a second.

I came to Hollywood at 19. I was running—from the cold of Washington state, from boredom, from a home that didn’t feel like home. I was chasing a dream. Movie stars. Magic. Girls.

I was using drugs back then. I’d been using since my early teens..my father a pill popper, mom with mental health challenges..

I was living in my friend’s abandoned bar, driving a Volkswagen bus that backfired like a cannon.

When a shady producer friend offered me ten grand to write and direct a porn, I took it. I needed the money. I’ll tell that story another time.

But everything went up in flames… and then it went to hell.

I was evicted one day with 15 minds notice.

Landlord said the marshals were coming. One bag, a few clothes. I was pounding on doors, calling in favors, hearing every excuse in the book for why I couldn’t crash on someone’s couch.

That was the spiral. Depression. Rage. Resentment. I got darker and darker in my using until there was nothing left but fuck it. I smashed my phone. Let go of the last thing I was holding on to.

And I jumped.

Full-on into street life.

Bring it on.

Back to the bus.

Something hit me that day. A shift. I started thinking about the journey. How my perspective had changed though my time in the streets. How the people I used to judge felt like my people now.

The sun was shining in my eyes. Everything lit up—the bus, the people outside.

And then it happened.

Everything turned gold.

Every person on the street, every passenger on the bus. Not golden like “good lighting.” Golden like divine.

Like something was glowing from the inside out.

Like we were all made of light.

That was the moment I understood:

We are all equally divine beings.

Golden.

That experience while weak and homeless and addicted in the streets near death, has shaped my life ever since.

A vision of the world like what MLK saw. A world where we are all sacred, beautiful, connected.

Glowing creatures in a place that grows and goes… if we have the courage to grow and go with it.

I wish I could’ve stayed in that vision.

I’ve tried ever since.

I started a nonprofit to help the people still out there. I fight for that vision—that all people are worthy of love.

That if we follow it, it can lead us to something better. Wars won’t take us there… maybe compassion will.

And if we don’t see our homeless brothers and sisters as just as golden as we are—then none of us really win.

I’ve been homeless. An addict. Mentally ill. Insane.

Awakened. Broken.

Found. And more.

I’ve wanted to share my story for a long time.

For others like me. For those who feel alone. It took me over a decade to look people in the eye without flinching from trauma and fear. To believe I could work beside someone again, love and be loved.

I was devastated by what happened out there. And I don’t want others to be.

Too many never come back. Too many never make it.

What shocked me was how beautiful people on the streets are.

How people with nothing can laugh. Can sing. Can give. Not everyone was a drug addict. There were men and women who lost jobs. Kids from abusive homes. Pregnant women. Refugees. Disabled folks. People who just missed a check. Ex-millionaires.

Elderly. Veterans.

So this book is for them.

To offer hope.

To ease the shame.

To share tools that helped me survive—and rise.

You are not alone.

We all fight dragons, inside and out.

We are still priceless.

Still golden.

Still here.

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