There is a certain uneasiness when he realizes he has lost so much that he can no longer calculate the losses. His memory isn't strong enough. The most recent indignation takes priority. The tail is always shedding its hide, but it always feels the same to him.
He asks questions. He expects answers, but how can you tell a man that is barely holding on that there is no point to it. Nothing lost matters. Man, he's hanging on by fingertips as it is.
It is what it is. One more desperate human doing desperate human things. Smile as you walk past, or avert your eyes. Don't look too close, or you might turn your stock-taking inward.
And who wants that?