You crave to have a FRIENDS set up with your neighbors, but at the same time you avoid them like the plague.
If you hear a neighbor open their door or the elevator rings and you are in the hall looking like crap and just wanting to get some takeout from the place across the street, you run, yes you run, to the nearest point out of sight.
The amount of walking you have to do to simply get to your door is unbelievably revolting.
Sometimes, when you are feeling really empathetic to the world, you walk really quietly because you don’t want to disturb the people below you and you understand, with a frighteningly realistic passion, what it feels like to be bombarded by the Feet Above.
Other times, when you are feeling really, quite honestly like pure crap, you walk with a thunderous collection of booms because why not world? Huh? Why not?
However, when the rage dissipates, you find yourself in a state of paranoia because you don’t want to get evicted.
You dare them to evict you—you are the best thing that ever happened to that apartment building.
You secretly wish that you will find your true love buzzing into the building.
If dogs are allowed in your building, there always seems to be that one insane one that loses its shit when you walk by.
Whenever you walk into your building, you have an instantaneous one-second debate with yourself over whether or not to take the stairs. Of course you take the elevator (if you have one), but the act of thinking about possibly going up the stairs makes you feel a bit healthier.
Sometimes your apartment feels way too small and too crowded from neighbors.
But, every time you visit friends’ houses they seem way too large and lonesome.
Every once in a while, you look out your peephole to try and stalk people. And every once in a while during those every once in a whiles you see something that either makes your life or breaks it.
You have a strange relationship with your landlord that you don’t think will ever normalize.
You never want to migrate to suburbia.