Food For Thought.

You've lost everything and hit rock bottom. You've watched friends and family die. You think you have it hard, grinding your life away at two piece of shit jobs that you won't quit because this is it for opportunities in your area. You think you've fucked up in the most fucked up of ways. You think it can't possibly get any worse than it is now.

...then you walk by a makeshift cot made of cardboard picked out of a dumpster covered with birdshit, with a garbage bag full of air and clothes at the curb, laid out in a space originally made for cars. A bed. This is someone's bed.

And it's about to rain. This person's bed is about to be soaked out.

So you go to your air-conditioned shitty job, then commute in a giant, safe, dry, air-conditioned shitty bus, then ride your shitty bike back to your shitty, safe, dry, comfortable, electrified, internet accessed, indoor plummed rental room while whoever made that bed in the parking lot gets to sleep on rainy birdshit and a soggy bag full of their own clothes.

Then you have to reconsider the usage of the word 'shitty', because you clearly don't know what the fuck an actual, real shitty life means for those who must live it.

Life isn't as bad as it seems. Not if your can read this on an internet-connected device you own. This is not meant to say you aren't struggling if your struggles haven't rendered you broken and pennyless. It is meant to say that as you struggle to reach the top of the mountain with whatever weight you're carrying on your back, don't forget others who must make the same trip with ten times the weight. Don't forget those who's unlucky draws at the game of life left them crushed at the bottom of the mountain with no way at all to get back up. Count your blessings, fellow oppos. They are more numerous than you might be willing to admit.