Disclaimer: this story is purely fictional. I like people. I enjoy their differences, their similarities and their stupid habits that make them them. When I wander the streets in search of that perfect oasis of liquor and darkness, I can’t help but be drawn to people. It’s a demented beauty really. Perceived only in the mind’s eye, this appreciation of the molded figures that are just so malleable. I really like people. I like to follow them. I’ve been told that isn’t natural. But what exactly is natural? Webbed feet are natural but people cringe at the thought. Did you cringe? I did, but only a little. Still that doesn’t…