It was an eternal battle waged over the decision of how to react to the fate of the human race.

He appeared to be the arena & crowd.

His appearance was sullen, attire drab, and his stride confessed exhaustion. Despite this, he would sporadically erupt into fits of laughter, most peculiar by how maniacally long and loud they were…as though he desired attention he knew none would afford him. Just as quickly, then came the seemingly uncontrollable sobbing. Reservoirs poured fourth, with an endless depth and sorrow which stained the hearts of all those who glanced over him.

He seemed completely without regard for those who were within proximity of his inner conflict. Most wrote him off, “He’s homeless…crazy…doped…just another lost cause.” Unfortunately, I wasn’t most…

I’d been watching him from a distant park bench for a while. Fascinated but confounded with questions, “Why?” being the one I returned to. Then, as if via telepathy or something, he halted, composed himself, and we locked eyes.