So, the other night in Chinatown, due to my Mental Health Eyes...always assessing, even though now clouded in a nice way with soft glaucoma, keeping eye contact, always, I met a few really dodgy folk in alleys...and gave them cigarettes. One of them remembered me from work. I didn't remember her. Not much of a memory I guess.
They used to be in asylums. Streets are better.
I used to, in my former life, in end-stage palliative care, walk about noting who was about to die in the street, on trams, in offices, drinking cappucinos, eating healthy buns, getting off buses etc; You can pick em pretty easily, if you've had the right background training over the many years. There's no mystery. There's a real guaranteed trajectory there.
Don't worry, there's no conflict, never any conflict, people just don't want to know anyway. What good would that do? Just let it be, and stand clear and get out of the way of the paramedics.
I try not to do that anymore.
Its a drag.
Mental Health is much more fun.
Everyone is kinda still living for a little while.
It feels a lot better on a cold night.
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