(no subject)

A friend and I had just taken the train back from Bryn Mawr and were walking through Market East station when we saw this young woman - "girl," probably, I think she was a teenager - with a rucksack on her back and a stuffed animal. She slid down against a pillar and sat there crying. We both noticed her but passed by and walked out into the mall. Then we stopped and reconsidered, wondering if we should go back and ask if we could help. But we saw some other guy talking to her, so we left.

On my walk home I wondered if I'd have gone to help the crying girl had I been with someone different, or on my own. And I had these stupid fantasies about actually going up to her and helping her find whoever or whatever she needed to get sorted out. It was stupid and childish of me.

Worst of all, I have always though that people can essentially make their own choices, overcome fear or social conditioning or whatever to do the right thing. I thought that should the situation arise, I would be the one to offer help when other people didn't. And when the time actually came, I didn't do anything.

I have definitively proven to myself that I am full of shit. Just like everyone else.