Passing through

Watcher of Watchers

What is it with humans and their fascination with each other? Anyplace where there are more than 10 of them, you'll find them muddle through the invisible space of hope and fear, angle through the unnameable boundaries that demarcate strangers from acquaintances from friends from lovers from enemies. All of them seemingly wanting to see and be seen.

Or maybe "see" is too strong a word. It connotes wisdom.

No... People (unless I can prove otherwise) merely watch. And they do so for various reasons.

The vain watches to validate their perceived beauty. They check if others are checking them out -- "Ah, 10 people looked at me in a span of 10 seconds, I must be hot! Granted, some of them are really ugly, but you do not need to be beautiful to recognize beauty. I take the uglies' admiration as well. I am hot."

The lonely searches very timidly, sometimes rather solemnly. They, after all, are out there awaiting the most basic of contact -- that of the eyes. It isn't surprising, therefore, that the lonely are more likely to fall in love. Loneliness makes us susceptible to love's disease.

The sad do not really watch. The sad are tired. Always tired. People watching is their soul's television. It is there, the never-ending scenes of movement, the noise of life as children play, someone trips, sneezes, laughs, etc, to distract them. It is as though bombarding themselves with a barage of visuals and sounds will result to reverse osmosis -- all that pains them will seep out until none is left so they can finally turn the television off, lie in bed, and sleep to rest.

The restless do not watch either. The restless are antsy about being alone. They live through their mobile phones. They would die in solitaire. It is through their mobile phones that they remain in contact with someone else. They text. Chat. Surf the Net. They constantly run away from their very selves. People watching is that which they do when their tiny boxes of connection fail them.

And then there are people like me who watches only those who watch other people. Now what do you suppose that makes of me?