Everybody has their own thing going on. That's pretty astounding, when you think about it. There are 6 billion people, roughly, so that means there are 6 billion different lives and motivations and dreams and you name it. Today as I was walking around, I saw a man furtively hiding behind a pillar, taking pictures of a nondescript building with a point-and-shoot camera, and then slinking away. Or on the train I watched another man warm his hands by spitting on them and rubbing the saliva. At Wendy's I couldn't help wondering what the two elderly gentlemen were discussing- was it current stuff like the Trappers leaving town, or the weather or politics, or was it good-old-days related?
I wonder if anyone ever looks at me and wonders what my story is.