Thanks, everyone, for your kind words, hugs, compassion and comfort. Yes, Gargoyle, that really was me posting yesterday (not exactly anonymously!) and I really was at the library. I didn't really want to hang out at home; the stink still lingers in the air there, even though the landlord sprayed some disinfectant around Bruce's apartment and did a lick-and-a-promise cleaning. He said he'll be back this weekend to start pitching out furniture and such, but he thought he might need to have a professional cleaner come in. I suspect that Bruce's carpeting will have to go, too.
And yes, this experience will probably end up in a song I'll write. Those Mudcatters who know me in the 3D world (like bert) have heard other songs of mine that relate directly to experiences I've had. Of course I've told this story to those flesh-and-blood humans who aren't reading the Mudcat Forum as well as to those who are. But posting this story here allows me to get feedback and give-and-take from far more people than I could by private correspondence, and it gives me a much wider perspective on the situation – a global perspective. Quite possibly, the perceptions of one or more of these other posters here will be integral to the lyrics I may write. If and when I do compose a song about this sad situation, I will most certainly post it to this thread. If others have songs on the subject that they'd like to post here, please do.
Of course, I didn't have an original song for Bruce on Wednesday, but I did sing "Hard Times Come Again No More" into the night, for whoever (?) might have heard or felt it.
The point of the story is that no one gave a flying F about this person who made himself anonymous by his withdrawal. His depression and his substance abuse took him to that "cold, hard corner" where no one wanted to go to find him; he became repulsive in all the senses of the word. John from Hull is probably right that he would have blown me off if I'd tried to urge him to get some help, and it didn't seem that he had anyone in his life he wouldn't blow off... or who hadn't already blown him off. His choice to live that way? Maybe. But there's enough testimony in Mudcat threads about depression to convince me that there isn't always choice in the matter of how one lives with it.
I have more thoughts that I'll post later. Thanks again, everybody.