I like people. I enjoy their differences, their similarities, the stupid habits that make them human. When I wander the streets in search of that perfect oasis of liquor and darkness, I can’t help but be drawn to people. It’s a demented beauty really. Perceived only in the mind’s eye, this appreciation of the molded figures that are just so malleable. I really like people.
Strolling down Walker Street, it is easy to get lost in the throng. There are the fashionable ones, the people that use these dirty strips as makeshift runways. There are the business professionals, purposeful with tailored suits and tailored personalities. There are the quiet, greyed-out ones, slipping through the cracks of daylight and thoughts.
I like to follow them. I’ve been told that isn’t natural. But what exactly is natural? Webbed feet are natural, but people cringe at the thought. Did you cringe? I did, but only a little. Still, that doesn’t stop me from wanting to follow where those connected toes go, what waddling path they take. I like following people, even when they think it’s creepy. Don’t worry, I’m not a violent person when I follow them. If they happen to notice me, I just tip my hat and smile affably. Smiles say a lot about people.
There are sad smiles, a sign of recognition that it’s okay to feel wretched. People are only human, right? There are genuine smiles that radiate this aura of happiness and contentment. These remind me of that sense of relief: ah, finally good times are here. But my favorite gestures aren’t the ones that even reach the mouth. The smiles that reflect in the eyes, like the perfect catchlights photographers strive for. They shimmer a glimpse, only a glimpse, of the blood warming in the chest with an expansive reach wrapped around the top torso. A mischievous thought dancing around the iris pools. And if you’re lucky to catch this kind, hold onto it because that warmth you see in them can infect you too. But maybe just a moment, so be vigilant.
I’m always vigilant and on the hunt. For some reason, I can never fully be satiated. Always room for more. And in this city, there is a buffet for me to feed. I love that I can always find someone new. Doesn’t matter if they are young or old, good or bad. They just exist. And it feels like they exist just for me.
This is just one of the many reasons I love people. They are just so full of light and life, and it pulls me in. I want that light too. It is absolutely delicious. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy some darkness too. But it’s the brightness that I’m drawn to. Perhaps it’s some twisted irony in that in my lonely state I crave the most liveliest of company.
I know it’s harder to find it when you’re three glasses deep into greedy scotch. It’s harder to see in this dingy bar on the corner of Church and Walker. But hey, a guy has his vices. And maybe I’m indulging right now, but I can still sit on this worn-out bar stool and watch people. Watching can be just as enjoyable as following. Fewer people are concerned by a guy at the bar wobbling a bit than the black-cap fellow on the street a few paces back.
My full name is Angelos but people prefer to call me Angel. I don’t ask, they just tell. I’m alright with that. Like I said, I enjoy people.
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