You want to put across the best possible impression to your customers? So do I. You want to do a good job with every customer – no matter how much they’ve paid? So do I. You want people to respect you? So do I. Respect – even for what you’re not? No, not I.
Yet – somehow I need to be a martyr in this process. Yet – I need to be the person who makes the sour trade, who has no human rights or who deserves no respect or acknowledgement. Or anything at all.
I get it.
I need to temper down this rage inside me… the rage at the sheer injustice. I just don’t know how.
the means to another’s ends
the wind in others’ sails
the road to the other’s house
and the shoes that they walk in.
how would you know what it feels like
to be the one who got used?
you’ve heard the string’s music
can you bear to know of its pain?
Hanging on in quiet desperation
Is the English way,
The time has gone,
The song is over,
Thought I’d something more to say.
… just 15% like you and 15% like him, I would have at least 50% better mental health and would be at least 100% more productive and my life would have 200% more meaning. But I’m not capable of being even 1% like you or 1% like him. So I will suffer till I don’t exist anymore and this suffering, headache and pain just goes away.