i live in a one room box in the most dangerous neighborhood in my city. every time someone comes to visit at night their car gets broken into. i survive on borrowed money and am basically unemployed despite having a masters degree and never get a call back from employers except for unpaid volunteer work or internships. yet people think i'm rich? worse, some people say mean things to me as if by existing i am threatening their resources when i'm literally barely existing myself and in a huge amount of debt. this country is so toxic.
i do all i can to stay afloat and stay mentally healthy. i take salt baths, read nourishing books, eat as healthy as i can, and try to keep doing art even though it doesn't pay. but sometimes i buckle under society's pressure and cry. i fucking hate that i live in a country where its so bad that even a jobless person in a one room apartment living on borrowed money is criticized for being "rich." Are our standards really this low now?
I cry, I have a cup of tea, I take a breath and continue where I was before being criticized for literally just being alive. It's a constant war against me alone in my apartment, trying my best to avoid drama or despair. Deep breath and more self care. Deep breath and gratitude list. I'm grateful I AM still alive. I'm grateful someone thinks my life is somehow better than theirs. Maybe I need to change my social circle drastically and start actually hanging out with "rich" people. Or just move somewhere less competitive so I can just chill in nature and make art and be left alone without criticism.
12:59 p.m. - 2018-04-29