Cameras in the Street Lights

He sits alone on a park bench feeling paranoid and alone. It's dark and it's cold and his hands are shivering and he's seen two cop cars drive by since he sat down. Drinking alone in public places, once an all time low, has become a new hobby for him, but it's getting colder and he doesn't know how much longer he can sit in city parks at midnight drinking cheap booze. He's in one of those weirds moods

Why are here, What are we doing, Where are going.

And he feels like blowing upbuildings and fighting random people on the street. He coughs and hacks and promises to himself he's going to kick the habit. But he know he never will. He hates himself, because he knows the answers to the questions he's asking but he's still confused and still alone and most definitely paranoid.

Why is everybody watching.