Nighthawks, a 1942 painting by American realist painter Edward Hopper.
I am both all the characters and settings in Nighthawks. I am constantly switching from being the dark and mysterious observer watching people interact, to the stooping man who deems it his job to serve, to the Clyde-like male figure with a Bonnie-like lady in red by his side, to being the lady who finds herself contrasting the people around her thanks to her attire and the fact that she’s either a yang in a yin, or a yin in a yang dominated environment (depending on the how you perceive the situation). And all these characters, these nightowls, these parts of the ensemble that is I, are ones which I switch between whenever I’m in a social and semi-light mood that reflects my environment, yet the majority of my moods are of a dark and consuming calmness that hints of the approaching night.