I ran into a poor soul last night, on my way home from constructive talks, and a wee drink at the local wine bar. He was so high, and so intent on getting to a certain clinic for help. It was heartwarming to see three out of five people on the subway helping in one way or the other. In the end, I took him there – it was around midnight, and the clinic is located in an area where I just wouldn’t have been comfortable having one of the older ladies walking around with a stoned person. I left the guy in a chair in the waiting room, where he proceeded to try to look serious. The woman working the reception, behind a plexiglass shield, looked tired, but she said thank you and wished me a good night. All in a night’s work for her, perhaps, but very much not so for me.

Everyone has things in their lives that are hard. Relationships, work, stress, family – whatever it is you’re struggling with – know that others do the same. We have our own demons to battle. Some are just more visual than others, and, possibly more lethal.

I didn’t get any sleep until a couple of hours later, and my dreams has been weird. I wonder what help he got, and how he dreams, if he got any sleep at all.

I think I’ll save my photo of the funny booze bottle I sampled last night for another time, and just get on with the day. I have my own demons to battle, after all. They just seem pale and infantile in comparison, right now.

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