Voyeurism: Laughing Man

When one thinks of voyeurism, you might think first of Alfred Hitchcock (not that you shouldn't). In everyday life, voyeurism and observation are important parts of being a writer. I've often sat on a park bench, scribbling down bits and pieces of conversations as people passed or trying to come up with stories for various passers-by. Voyeurism is similar; living in a college apartment complex, I have insight into multiple apartments and I overlook a courtyard from which I can hear pretty much anyone walking by. Lately, there's been a consistent passer-by, at nearly any time of day (or night), who starts laughing.

like, for real, bro?

There doesn't seem to be cause for the laughter outbursts. They just start - large guffaws followed by small cackles, in that pattern - and keep going for a few minutes. And then he just stops. I never hear a television or radio or other person in the vicinity, nothing that could prompt such intense laughter, but there must be something.

Perhaps there is something visually amusing - like a friend who's really good at slapstick comedy - or maybe the laugh is so loud it covers the funny videos, etc, that make him laugh. It's also possible that he's not just walking by but actually lives on one of the floors below me. Then, I could be hearing his laughter only when he sits by the window and not much other noise would leak through. However, I could be reading too much into this and he could just be another high college student.

Dude, tell me the source of your happiness.

There is an excellent reason why voyeurism and observation are great writing exercises: they allow our overactive imaginations some exercise and play time. It's fun coming up with a long list of reasons for a complete stranger to do the things they do or act the way they act.