I'm in my own apartment

 I'm in my own apartment. In the middle of a happening city. Around friends. This should be interesting.

It's not a luxury place. I live quite a few floors up. There's no elevator in the building. The washer/dryer units are in the basement. The neighborhood/building has been known to be in a politically sensitive location.

On the other hand, the location is freakin' great, I'm ten minutes of walk or twenty minutes of busride from everything I could want, ever ever. Dozens of restaurants right by my doorsteps. Multiple large grocery stores less than ten minutes of walk away. Bars, restaurants, what have you, all on my street. Friends and family live a decently close walking distance away. What more can a man ask for, eh?

My particular apartment gets plentiful sun, has a pretty decent kitchen -- albeit not super modern appliances -- and is sized sufficiently. Enough for me and a couple of friends -- or several dozens i might some day invite -- to hang out once a while.

This feels good. Finally the reign of my own Kingdom, that's not in the boonies.

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