Wretched

“They pay me very little,” he said, tired from all the work. Works up to 14 hours a day, his wife, too. Not an illegal, but a person in desperation. You know those employees that nobody acknowledges… They exist in a vacuum: A reality with no purpose and constant punctuation of sadness – Melancholia…

All this wealth, power is nothing; never can wealth be appropriated into something actually meaningful. You have all but you give nothing to those that build it for you. Are you devilish to the result of not even preparing a moment to observe the sad face you cause all day..?

They work six days a week, cleaning the whole place, including toilets and all dishes. Staying in tiny rooms conquer will for a better life. What can a man, woman or child do with specs of dust and crumbs thanks to at least 84 hours of hard labour. Perhaps one can assume Stalin’s Gulag to be a gift to fairness compared to this folly existence – too low to consider even wretchedness.

How does one do a decent job with this knowledge… Does one blank out the honest thoughts: “These people could be considered just in a pursuit to kill those who did this to them”. Not a condonable notion, neither condemnable.

The powerful worry nothing for consequences; in most extreme of instances, they lose a small portion of their wealth, position still in-tact, readily there to come back with even more force in their pursuits – mean and in-different…

Considered a decent person by himself, herself, friends, family, people around ’em, their faults and crimes against humanity can be easily brushed aside. Nobody questions how the rich uncle treats his serfs…

Tomorrow I shall re-visit the darkness giving birth to all that need to buy flashy things, to crush others. If I told you how little they were paid, how over-worked they are, you will lose interest even in carrying a small idea of humanity.

I wish I could serve you the lie that this is a specific case, an individual one; I really want to muster the power to lie and say our lives are better, that we are not used, that our creative minds are not buried, “we are better off” – alas we are not.

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