Late Night Wonderments

Who are we to other people in the world? When other people see us for the first time, do they think about who we really are, what we really think, what our real name is (for you vegas types) or what the suset looks like from out bedroom window?Ii bet they haven't, I bet you've never thought about it. I bet that thought has never crossed your mind.
Every morning I stand at the end of my long dirt driveway shivering in the chilled Minnesota mornings waiting for my ride to come. and every morning the man down the street stands below a bus sign. he never sits on the bench, but stands in front of it. its like that every morning, I and him, him and I. we stand. I wonder what his life is like, what he looks forward to in his coming day or if he only thinks of escaping the cold in to the warmth of public transportation. Every morning the 766 city bus pulls up in front of him as my ride comes to a stop at the sign right next to it. And then the man is gone, off to his day at where ever the bus takes him. then I wonder does he wonder at who I am? while realizing that would be strangely pedophile like, I wonder do others wonder where I am going? What im thinking about? I've been told that I'm not the easiest person to read, so what if I don't like to pour out my life to the world. Hell , I don't have anything to pour out. The sunset is hidden from my window. Thats why I go outside to watch it. I'm thinking about how much I love Germans and their music. I'm not going anywhere. Thanks for asking. It's so nice when someone cares. But a little unneeded.

What I care about is you.

So what does the sunset look like from your window? What are you thinking about? Where are you going? I hope that all of you find someone who you can tell that to.I hope you find you special someone, really I don't want any of that for my self it just makes me happy to see my friends happy. I don't need someone to talk to, I need someone to make smile, someone to wonder about, whether its a man down the street, the dog across the river, or the one sitting right in front of me asking if they can read what I'm writing.