"But I still come into town and catch up on some of the old faces and find out who are all the new ones coming out.
"I've always been around and I always will be around till the day I die, I suppose. It's a family in a way, a big extended family."
A new report by the Auckland City Mission, Lifewise and Auckland Council gives a voice to 22 other past and present rough sleepers like Mr Brown, telling their stories in quotes and diagrams.
"Dad beat me up for the last time, I'm not going to take it any more," says one young person.
"I walk around at night and sleep in the day when it is safer," says another in a diagram depicting a homeless view of Auckland. The public toilets are marked as "closed", a shower at the tepid baths costs $2.50, and the library closes at 8pm.
Councillor Cathy Casey, whose committee will receive the report today, called for better support for the homeless. "We don't want to be the homeless police, we want to be the caring council," she said.
But the council's draft 10-year plan proposes cutting the central library's hours from 67 to 62 hours a week.
Mr Brown said he was put into state care at 7 because his mother "couldn't handle it".
Ironically, the last place he stayed was the City Mission, which in those days had a hostel for young people. He still works there two days a week as a volunteer in the foodbank.
"When it came to paying rent here, I would take off," he said. He slept under the back of a building in Mt Eden Rd, ate at what was then the Methodist Mission and showered at the night shelter.
"It wasn't as bad then as what it's like now. Back then people could sleep at night without getting picked on by the public," he said.
He sniffed glue, took drugs and drank. He "hustled" for his money, but avoided jail. At 20, without help from anyone, he stopped taking drugs and drinking alcohol and found work with Allied Workforce while still living on the streets.
But he also started "collecting" the tattoos that now cover most of his body.
"I've got a few Pakeha tattoos to show my Pakeha side, and all my Maori tattoos are showing my Maori side," he said. His Ngati Maniapoto grandad spoke Maori, but Mr Brown hardly knew him.
One day each week she works with another mission outreach worker Charlotte Ama; the other day a health board mental health nurse.
She reckons it took six to eight months before the rough sleepers fully trusted her.
Ms James, 34, is based in Central Auckland, but her team is also called in for individuals reported sleeping rough anywhere across the Super City. A recent count found 147 rough sleepers within 3km of the Sky Tower.
"We have seen a bit of an increase in the younger ones," she said. For some, "it's cool to be on the streets, it's way cooler than being in Gisborne or Hastings, you're living the life".
Some older people also chose "the freedom of being outside". However, others were physically and/or mentally unwell, their family relationships had broken down, and they often have traumatic pasts. Most are male and most are Maori. Almost all have multiple issues.
"You don't really know what comes first, whether it's drugs, alcohol, mental health. Very rarely is it just an accommodation issue."
She is still there to help if things break down again long after a client finds a house. She helped one man get into a hostel, then another hostel when the first one didn't work out, and eventually a Housing NZ flat. She helped him get ACC funding for an old head injury, until he decided he no longer needed her.