The guy sitting behind me has been talking to himself non-stop. Sometimes it’s happy, cheerful banter. Then he’ll suddenly switch gears, go off on this loud, angry harangue: “GOVERNMENT WOMAN COMPUTER BITCH!! HAAAH!! FUCK DA BITCH!! FUCK DA BITCH!! UNIVERSE CIRCLES!! GAHHHH!! Like he’s on the verge of having a psychotic breakdown. Then it’s like he’ll get a grip. Go back to muttering quietly to himself. Back and forth like that. . . He’s been on the scene for awhile. Yesterday he was sitting by himself making these loud, anguished animal sounds. Barking like a dog, then shrieking and howling. In some kind of psychic agony . . It’s one of the sad — and endlessly recurring — aspects of living on the streets. You regularly run into people who, quite simply, are just genuinely nuts. Their minds simply don’t process the information in any kind of normal mode. Usually there’s no way to help them. There’s no place for them to get help. And you even wonder HOW they could be helped. They live in their own world. With only the most tenuous grasp of reality. . . They get dumped out on the streets precisely because there IS no better place for them to go. And they fend for themselves as best they can. . . Some of them (like me, perhaps) find a little niche within society where they can function and survive. While others are a danger to themselves and a danger to others. And eventually they got locked up in a cage for awhile. Only to be eventually released to the streets again and go through the whole cycle all over again.
There are often no answers. You just keep moving forwards as best you can. Or backwards. Or just sit somewhere by yourself and rant.