I See People

Not really people… Not dead people, and no I’m not insane.


I see people in many different ways, just as everyone else does I’m sure. Sometimes I see people as they are. Sometimes I see through people. Sometimes I see a person’s past and can’t get past that to the current person they are. Sometimes I don’t even see people at all, like the homeless man wrapped in a sleeping bag on a closed business’ stoop. But sometimes I see people who aren’t actually there, and no I’m not insane.

From the corner of my eye, I see a head poking around the door frame to look at me, while I sit nestled on the couch engrossed in a good book. I watch him, in my peripherals, without taking notice that would surely make him abruptly disappear. I watch him for a while, and he does nothing. Does not move. Does not speak. Does not even seem to be there at all really, but I see him. I slowly turn my head toward this man and just as every time before, he has gone.

This happens on a regular basis. I’ve chalked it up to my eyes playing tricks on me. They can turn a picture frame on the wall into a face I can’t quite make out, or a coat rack that has stood in that same corner for ages, into the Slender Man. As soon as I turn my attention to whomever is ‘there’, whomever is not there, and everything appears normal. No, the photo on the wall did not grow a face. No, the lamp on the table did not grow legs. But through the corners of my eyes I see a different world that exists in the hazy ‘in-between’ of life. Life out of focus. This gives me an interesting perspective into not only inanimate objects, but other people as well, and strangely enough I’ve learned to intentionally seek out things that are not obvious to others. However, this does not always bode so well when applied to human beings…

I, a creature of habit, also sometimes unconsciously look for things in others that are not there. Or not there on the surface. I pick out events of their past (not always true events), and guess characteristics that they’ve developed throughout their life story. Sometimes I hit the nail on the head, and other times I could not be more wrong. Sometimes I offend. Other times I appease. Some people laugh. Some people tilt their brows downward at me… But in doing this I’ve gained a VERY valuable characteristic. CREATIVITY.

What is the point of this?

Never judge yourself poorly over something that makes you weird (like seeing people who aren’t there). Everything that makes you weird, really just makes you unique. And to be unique is the highest compliment of all.

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