If You Live In A Rent Control Building You Live Among People Who Have Serious Issues

I live by the beach in a nice rent control studio.  My apartment has remarkably good feng shui and energy and I pay far under the market value.  Many people over the years have walked into my apartment and exclaimed, “This is AWESOME! YOU’RE SO LUCKY? YOU PAY HOW MUCH?!”

I may not pay much rent money.  But, oh, I pay.

Today the building feels strangely peaceful because Sad Drunk Neighbor who normally sits outside publicly destroying himself with The Drink and a general pissy attitude was taken to the hospital in a scene out of a horror movie. The paramedics  had to break into his apartment to find him because he was passed out in a pool of his own blood and feces…lovely.

“Is he dead?” I asked my neighbor.

I hoped he was.  I know that sounds evil and I shouldn’t publish this on the World Wide Web, but I have made a vow to my Teddy Bear and the spirits on the other side to try to speak the truth.
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“He was breathing,” she answered, revealing some of her own disappointment.

This man has yet to see “the light,” or find the chair that’s “saved for him” in AA.  He’s more scary to me when sober. He lurks around, spies, and sometimes stalks me. He once proclaimed that he owned a gun and it’s rumored that he has lice.  He clearly does not want to be Here (On This Earth) anymore and I sometimes worry that if he had the wherewithal he would take everyone with him.  However, a massive shoot out requires planning and since he’s not 16 and living with his parents, he’s just going to drink all day in front of the building and make sure everyone understands his misery.  Is it so bad to want it to end for him?

I’d so much write about my junk food cravings.

Just for today, I can blog about a tragic life.