The Devil Walks Alone…

I don’t need praise, but I like it. I don’t want sympathy or pity; things are the way they are. Grand designs or not, the world continues to revolve regardless of my simple little life. I may be a grain of sand on the beach; or a molecule in a universe. But my mark is that of the tangible ghost. The one that left an impression and vanished, the one who you see standing across from you on the platform, or the street. Then as soon as you saw me I would be gone. The ghost like presence you feel at the back of your neck but am not there, the haunting feeling you get when you know someone is there. I move along, I am seen but go unnoticed, stuck between invisibility and the visible. I am watching, observing and making my own notes. Taking in my observations and theories. Testing and prodding, making you question reality and everything in it.

Not seen, but among the sea of faces, and looking at you from beyond them. I am taking notice; I am seeing you out there although you don’t really see me. I walk alone, and have for so long now that I don’t know company much. I am quiet, and silent like death among the headstones. I am reaping information, taking patient time to collect what I can, replaying events and making things clear from every angle. Taking a moment to prepare, the methodical preparations and checklists, the little details and things are as they are. You see me then gone. Like vapor or shadows at the corner of the eye and I won’t let you know, that I know, that I am there, watching, waiting, in the shadows you may find me, out there on the streets I am there, among the people I walk alone…

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