I go knocking on doors at all sorts of hours. All sorts of doors, all sorts of strangers. It is a compulsion that haunts me and pushes against me until I can no longer bear to be alone. 

Every night, I walk the moonlit paths of the city. I knock on apartment doors, hotel entrances, store windows with their "closed" signs. I knock and hope that someone will answer. 

Every morning, I wake up from dreams or moonlit walks or I don't wake up at all. I can't when I haven't been asleep, no? Every morning, every night, every hour of every day, when time is a-ticking and i have nowhere else to go, no one else to speak to, I house-hunt, I walk up front steps, up fire escapes, down alleyways and I knock. 

If I am lucky, which is not often when you go around at dawn or past midnight, I get a person lonely enough, caring enough, to respond. All I want, I say, is 10 minutes of your time. I am a stranger to you and you are a stranger to me, but we can hit it off swimmingly. Just 10 minutes.

Or it could be a catastrophe. Strangers are not always kind. 

What I am trying to say is, I want someone to talk to, but I never want it to be the same someone. I can't have one person knowing all of my secrets, all of my thoughts. No, I need a stranger, just as much as you need one too. You have friends? Well, then you definitely need strangers. 

So, I go on my way through the city and when I am finished there, I will haunt the countryside, because no land is untouched. There are always strangers to be solicited for 10 minutes of their time. sStranger, just 10 minutes, no names, just 10 minutes of time.

Tell me your secrets and I will tell you mine.

Trust me, I am but a receiver. I don't judge. How could I? I do not know you, but perhaps soon, in 10 minutes time, I will know you enough to no longer call you a stranger.

And when we have unburdened our minds, we will part and I will become a little less of a stranger.