I'm the Villian

I know there's suffering. I know that thousands of miles away, across the vast expanse that is the Atlantic Ocean, people are suffering. They're starving, sick, abused in every sense, and I'm... blogging about it. I'm the bad guy. I live in a house stocked full of food, in a peaceful suburb where I attend a high school that makes decisions like knocking down an entire parking structure in order to make room for a new pool. What is wrong with me? Why am I not donating everything I own in some desperate attempt to fix the rampant inequality that plagues the world? Because I'm in too deep. I'm addicted to the life I have. I need a bed, 3 meals a day, and an internet connection. I need AC, clothes that fit, and parents that love me. I'm spoiled, and even acknowledging that won't make me change my lifestyle.  When I have disposable income, I'll donate to the Red Cross. I'll lament on the state of the world when asked. But then I'll go back to my house with everything I could ever need. I'm an white, american male and I need to detox. Travel somewhere that needs my help.  Otherwise, I might never change, and that scares me. A person without empathy is a shell. And that's the last thing I want to be.