At Least They're Committed

As I again walked past the old ‘U’ shaped, red brick apartment building and looked up at the people sitting there, I realized how full of shit I was in a previous post when I’d mused that I could live there. I couldn’t. It would kill me. I’d feel responsible for each one of those lost souls’ well-being and absorb all of their pain. And by the looks of them, I’d be in a ton of hurt. I don’t need to take any more on (heh, moron). I’d be at my best in a small house with a medium-sized dog, hanging with any of my large group of friends/family. Yup, that’s what I need and that’s all I need.