>> Psychotic behavior in the indigent population is often adaptive. There are several reasons why people may exhibit psychotic behavior (where “psychotic behavior” means “talking to oneself”, “yelling at no one in particular”, “wearing five layers of clothes plus a wool hat on an 80-degree day”, “mumbling to oneself on the bus”, or other behaviors that are considered non-normative in this culture): Sometimes they are high on cocaine or methamphetamine; sometimes they have a chronic mental illness; sometimes they are medically ill and are undergoing acute brain failure. Sometimes people sustained brain damage from physical violence; sometimes they are “developmentally delayed” (formerly known as “mentally retarded”).

For women in particular, “psychotic behavior” protects them from assault. If they scream obscenities in an unpredictable fashion, men are less likely to approach them. If they lunge at passing cars and throw items at pedestrians, people will avoid them. If they dress in multiple layers and keep their hair shorn very short, they appear less attractive and thus receive less attention.

And when these women are tucked away in a cool room and chatting with another woman, they can and do behave within social norms. Though they may still share fears about alien uterus transplants and hidden cameras in the street lamps, they remain seated and exercise usual social graces.

>> Familiar faces appear in familiar haunts. While crossing the street, a man quickened his pace and peered at me from behind. I looked familiar to him and I knew we had met previously.

“Hi!” he greeted brightly. We crossed to the safety of the curb. “Do you still work at The Other Hospital?”

“No, I don’t,” I answered. “I’m sorry—you must remind me of your name—”

“Marcus,” he said. “Yeah, I remember you from The Other Hospital—”

—and then he provided a brief summary about his success in drug and alcohol treatment, his hopes to return to school, his activities within the church, and his intention to return to The Other Hospital to obtain ongoing care.

“That’s great,” I said, smiling at him. Sobriety had eluded him for many months and now, he was trying again. He flashed a grin at me—his teeth were misaligned and misshapen, but it was a warm smile nonetheless—and asked again, “So you don’t work at The Other Hospital anymore?”

“No,” I said. “I’m a resident, so I kinda go where they tell me to go.”

“Oh,” he answered. “Where do you work now?”

I pointed to a building down the street. “I work there now.”

“Oh!” he said again, this time with more energy. “I’ve been there before, too. Maybe I have an appointment there—I can’t remember. Oh well. Well, it was nice seeing you.”

We shook hands and waved farewell.

That was nice.

>> The opportunities for people-watching in the downtown corridor are endless. I attribute this to the sheer volume of people in the downtown district, though no other part of the city has as much diversity. Men in tailored suits and shiny cufflinks walk next to indigent men clutching overstuffed trash bags. Young women with large sunglasses and high heels clatter past delivery men carrying three boxes. Tourists with wrinkled maps pause next to janitors sweeping the entrance to the towers. Young hipsters with iPod buds in their ears swagger past young techy types in their pleated khaki shorts and polo shirts.

I catch glimpses of their lives and wonder who they are, where they are going, and what they want to do. They often look serious and driven—places to go, things to do.

And I wonder if I often look the same way.

>> What are the things we keep to ourselves? A woman spoke at length with me about herself. She was warm, friendly, and gracious. Life had provided her with a wealth of experiences—some painful, others not so much. And the more she spoke, the more her ideas spun into a world that wasn’t based in reality—the multiple ear and tongue transplants, the Asian women who followed her wherever she went, the deaths and resurrections of her three children.

But still so earnest and polite!

Had our conversation been short, had I forced our dialogue to remain superficial, had I not tacitly encouraged her to continue speaking, I doubt she would have shared these intimate—and delusional—thoughts with me.

We all keep things to ourselves, some things that we know may not make a lot of sense to anyone else. We learn to censor ourselves, though our thoughts may be diametrically opposed to our behaviors.

Behavior can often hint at thoughts and intentions, but is not always the transparent looking glass that we believe it to be. “We” are not that different from “them”, though we often wish that we were.