Everyone’s lot in life is the worst. That means, you, specifically. You’re a victim. If we go through your family history, you’re the victim of a victim of a victim of a victim two-hundred thousand times removed until that lizard thing walked out of the water and started what would become humankind.
Everyone’s life is the worst, everyone wants to complain. You’re a minority. Your sexual orientation is this. You witnessed a murder that. You were abused this. The problem is, problems don’t matter anymore. We’re too informed now. We understand they’re universal. Still, your lot in life is the worst.
Why move on in your life, when you can judge? It’s more fun in the short-term. Someone’s always better off than you. You’re always better off than someone, but let’s ignore that. This is your life. You can choose to live it like a movie where you’re the hero, even if on the outside people can see you’re pretending to be it. You’re not maybe being honest with yourself, but I’m sure you’re selling someone. And most of the time, it may only be yourself.
Some fucker’s definitely better off. That someone. That fucking no-good someone. They had life handed to them. They had a trust fund. Me, yeah, I’m better than that. I suffered and worked hard. The well-off, they’ve never known true suffering. They chose to be born that way, somehow, I just know it. They got lucky. Me, no. No hand-outs here. And if I got lucky and won the lottery, I definitely wouldn’t accept it. No, my right to complain and my righteousness, that’s more important. Never would I catch or take a break.
Everyone’s got it good. Me, shit. Those gangs on wall street. That’s the problem. I mean, white privilege or something. There ain’t privilege in the first world. I mean, sure I make more in my part-time minimum wage job than 90% of the globe but that doesn’t count. When you consider they get free bananas on the fruit trees right outside their house, it evens out.
The rich don’t have problems. No rich ever suffered loss. No rich ever cried. No rich ever committed suicide. No rich ever thought about the plight of the poor. I have running water but my toilet ain’t gold. How could anything you say help me sleep at night?
Everyone’s in their own head twenty-four seven. There’s little chance to be human and not have a myopic view point. There’s little chance not to think your own personal woes are the world’s. Someone’s heartache is nothing to your toothache. Everyone suffers tremendously and it’s no contest, whether it’s the starving poor or the crippled rich.
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