Day 6: The dusty foot philosopher.

Where I live, the apartments are parallel to countless others, and often times I find myself staring across into the abyss of random peoples habitats. Sometimes I feel weird that we can see each other's lives at home, but it's honestly pretty eye-opening when it comes down to it. Everyone has the option of putting shades up but very few people leave them hanging. It's this interesting connection we all have. A shared space if you will. A place half riddled with privacy yet drowning in what you might call "the public." Even as I'm writing this, I see a girl, cigarette smoldering as it lies delicately between her cold-stricken hands. She seems to be writing, then thinking, only to pause, ponder, and begin writing again. It's an odd feeling to be able to see but not hear or understand. The imagination really takes hold, and you begin to make guesses. I'm sure there have been guesses made about me and I would love to hear them.