I’m sitting outside Tago Jazz Cafe along Justice Lourdes Paredes San Diego Avenue, listening to the live music floating out through the open glass door; absorbing the night. I see an old man walking around, aimlessly. He talks himself, gesturing to the air as if he were speaking to an invisible companion. I watch him silently; sometimes he looks my way but he does not engage me into his consciousness. I strain my ears in attempt to catch his monologue, but I hear nothing that makes sense. I wonder what kind of world his mind is lost in. If I approached him and spoke to him, would I be trespassing across the transparent wall he has created between reality and the world his mind lives in?