Ready to peep

scar-manTaking a peep into someone’s life always feels like watching a car crash somewhat. You know when you see someone arguing on a train, you can’t look away but you know you have to. You don’t want them to see that you see this thing that is brightening up the otherwise dull train journey but you have to know everything. I have no idea why that is because you will always leave that train with more questions than answers. You won’t have a clue what they were arguing about and will be thinking about it for the rest of the day.

But we still peep, we have to peep, I have to peep. I guess this goes back to not wanting to be alone in the things that we feel. We all have weird shit in our brains and so we peep into other people’s life to make us feel better about the shit we have going on in ours. I think, or we are just all nosey fuckers.

I quite enjoy a peep, it’s good fun. I miss the train journey to work every day, there were some good peeps on that train and as I took it for 3 years, I knew most of my fellow trainers. I mean, I didn’t know them but there was bike man, business lady, the school kids that I wanted to stab in the collective throat, the dude who kind of looked like he worked in a library but maybe didn’t and the women who ate her lunch on the train. We were practically a family, a family who always sat in the last coach of the train, ready to peep at any moment.

Improv word: Peep.

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