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#and her attitude right now is like ANY HATER IS JUST HATING BC THEYRE STUPID
inkskinned · 3 years
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kinda makes me want to eat my fist. i am following her on instagram (why? my sister asks. i tell her i don't know, i just am. it is what it is). and she's gotten rich. she complains about how, at a 5-star hotel in bora bora, nobody offered to take her picture. how she had to (how sad!) use a tripod instead. to lower herself to this! can you imagine?
she notes that she still shops at marshalls. that she isn't really out of touch with all us little peons. that yes, this trip was expensive, but come on, it's the big one.
i snort and send it to my best friend. the entitlement, though. i mean, if they had the tripod set up, why are they complaining that nobody took their picture for them? who would ask to take a phone off a tripod? why don't they just pay for a photographer if it bothers them so much? why do they expect other vacationers to offer this in the middle of a pandemic? so many questions baby.... let's get rich and have problems like this.
i used to work for a corporation that will go unnamed in this poem. but it rhymed with malt wisney dorld. they taught me many things, but my favorite is that i got very-good at taking the pictures of random people. i do it all the time, still - i see someone trying to pile others into a selfie and it feels like i have been given a gift beyond reckoning. i like particularly when i hear someone say no, it's okay, i'll just not be in them - and i get to take the phone out of their hand and let them be with the people they love, grinning.
that corporation paid me 8 dollars an hour. and change. i worked 18 hours a day during the holidays and was just able to afford to buy christmas gifts for my family. i had to eat rice for all of that season. i remember being delighted when i realized oh, i can afford to buy a single bag of chips.
i love taking people's pictures. i organize them - one super serious. okay now one silly. okay now you're smiling but pretend you just won the lottery. okay now you're an international spy agency. okay now - i love watching them scroll through the results, smiling. i got paid 8 dollars an hour to notice things like this. i remember handling thousands of dollars in cash, passing over my hands like water. everyone out for their big trip. i remember all the people who snorted just get a better job, kid. i remember how when i was first hired, i was genuinely excited.
i think it must be tiring, is all. it looks like, at a certain point of celebrity - at a certain point of wealth - the whole point is to be endlessly-unhappy. maybe it's insecurity. social media thrives on complaining. she used to be someone i liked for her down-to-earth positivity. i guess she owes me nothing, but it feels ironic. and when it doesn't feel ironic, it feels troubling.
i mean. just take the picture of you in your eighth hundred-dollar bathing suit in an area i'll never get to visit. write another testimony to your wealth. to your success. seem, weirdly, ungrateful for all of it.
my 28th birthday is tomorrow. i will be making cake from a box. my life is actually very beautiful and lovely.
i scroll through her pictures and find myself thinking - oh. i know why i'm angry. i'm angry because she's being like this when she has everything. and i'm angry because i am picturing myself in her place, and how i'd do everything differently.
and i'm angry because i will never be in her place. at the end of the day, i legitimately can't be. and isn't that just enough to make something feel... a little less lovely.
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