Living is hard enough when you hate life, but it's even harder when you don't have anyone to help you through it. Yeah, I have parents and family, but I don't have friends. I guess the public doesn't like a voyeur. I watch people, watch them ,capture them on film or on paper. My hobby is to draw and phtograph those who stand out, or the complete opposite, those who only other outcasts notice. Like the girl in the corner of the room, watching her shoes as if expecting them to come to life, her dark hair in her face like a veil, the purple blue and red flashing lights illuminate her and make her glow in an errie way. Maybe if she looked up I'd be able to tel if she was prety or not, hell, if she was real or not. Wouldn't be the first time I saw something that wasn't there. I take ut my camera and snap a few shots of her, she entrances me. Her boho style mixed in with a hint of punk made her seem cool. Black and red converse sat on her feet followed up by hot pink fishnets, a black skirt that went to her knees looked like it went through a paper shredder, a black and pink checked shirt was on her body clinging to her chest. Every curve of her body was subtle but perfect. She seemed surreal. Finally she picked her head up and looked around, probably senseing my stare. She is beautiful, heavy black make up on her eyes, painted black lips, pale sin, her ears are coverd in earrings. Her eyes meet mine, normally I'd look away but I'm complelled to look back in to hers. Surprisingly, she smiles. It lights up her face, I want to draw her badly but I don't do it when peoiple are looking right at me or when they know I'm drawing them. Takes the raw emotion out of it. Unfortunately she doesn't walk over, she looks away from me. I move my position and take a few more pictures of her then I walk out of the night club in to the night. When I went in the sky was lit by a soft pale yellow light, now it was ink black and dotted in stars made of white out. The air was warm and humid, you could almost taste it. Laughing sounds fro mthe alley to the right of me, I edge closer and see a couple feeling each other up in a more romantic way rather than a sexual way. I take a picture of them and go on my way home.

My apartment smells like Chinese food and citrus air freshener. After a while that smell starts to comfort you when you've been living in it for a while. I sit down and watch tv on my old dumpy couch, I gotta go to work in the morning, even I have bills to pay. The tv drones on in the backgrond noise of the room as I start to space out, my thoughts ease back to the girl in the club. Her raven hair and pretty smile seem to be burned in to my mind. For today at least. I wonder what her name was. Probably soemthing strange but beautiful. Or perhaps she has a very common name, but on her, it would sound amazing and fit her perfectly. At about 3 am I pass out where I was sitting, my thoughts still on that girl. I wake up when the sunlight comes through the blinds and falls on my face. With a grumble and stand up and put on my shirt and tie, living two lives is a normal thing for most people. During the day they have jobs and are normal people, apart of the crowd. They blend in perfectly, no one stands out aside from the beautiful and perfect. But at night that's when we show our true colors. The amazing stand out, the normal stay in the crowd, and the strange hide in corners and watch others. I'm lower than the strange though, I'm a watcher. I see everyone as who they are. Night or day. No one blends in my eyes. No one blends in my camera.

At work I'm one of the normal people. My co-wokers think I'm a mute and my boss hates me but can't fire me cause I actually do a good job. I'm just some pisant on the ladder of business. Nothing special. Just trying to pay the bills and buy more film.