It’s such bullshit. Everything I have I’ve earned. Other people haven’t had to work a day in their lives and they have things I’ll never have.
What is it I’m supposed to be grateful for? That my pain isn’t worse? That whoever keyed my car didn’t decide to smash the window while they were at it? That although I hate my job I have a job?
That I have both my legs, that soldiers don’t break down my door in the middle of the night and shoot everyone, that even though this is the city I can hear a mockingbird sing and he reminds me that the planet isn’t beyond repair, that even now it’s not too late? That I’m alive and suddenly aware of that while it’s still true?
My God, if I become grateful for my life where will it end?