Walking back from the gym this morning and there was a drunk in this little park that they use as a open all hours meths bar, hunched over himself laying on the floor. He was covered in mud and not really moving much. But you know what I did. . . . nothing. Its really weird, I knew that I should go and help him but just didn't. I was walking home thinking about him, why he was laying there, what was up with him, what his name was, but I still didn't feel any inclination to lend a hand.
Then on my way into uni, he was on the other side of the street, still lying on the floor and everyone just walked around him like he didn't exist. You know what I did. . . exactly the same.
I just had no desire to help him at all.
I can usually detach myself from issues like this, but for some reason this one affected me. I think it's because this was right there in front of me. It's not so much that I didn't help him, I stepped around him. I went out of my way not to help him.
I see drunks all the time on the street and I don't help them, I have no idea why this one bothers me so much. I think it might be because this one was so blatantly in need of something. He wasn't just a drunk on the street, he was a person in need. But all I saw was a drunk. . . . and then I walked on.
I never realised how callous I had become to other people suffering. I guess you really do harden to it if you are exposed enough.