rypiecandoit

[rypiecandoit]

The best revenge on those who have wronged you is to move on. Build bigger, build better, and build bolder.

At a certain point its not revenge, its just your life being more honest and fulfilling than before.

Take care folks.

[rypiecandoit]

I find myself continually embarrassed when I see people I use to look up to, or want to be like, and now they're just so, repugnant. At every turn I see my past and some of the people I chose to let in and I am utterly disgusted with myself that I couldn't see through the fog of disappointment. I think I'm more so bothered with how human we all are. I'm repulsed by my own flaws and the flaws of others that I just want to vanish. Family, friends, lovers, they're all the same. Just people. I considered myself an outsider for so long that now I'm truly seeing people for the people they are and not the people I believed them to be. Then I find genuinely good people and I shit on their enthusiasm and blissful ignorance, because I am, at heart, just another shit bag. The one thing I never wanted to be. I am not a good person. Neither is anyone else. We have secrets, we have flaws. We're dirty, ugly, and all the while, ignorant of our impact.

[rypiecandoit]

[rypiecandoit]

Damn. Right in the feels.

Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

I’m not worth the cost of a watch.

[rypiecandoit]

[rypiecandoit]

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[rypiecandoit]

Why do I allow others to make me feel so fucking useless?

[rypiecandoit]

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[rypiecandoit]

I AM

The epitome of being a loser. The definition of poor taste. The culmination of many forgotten accidents. I am every contradiction, every negative thought in me, and every failure I invite. I am this and more, but yet I'm still here for absolutely no good reason at all.

[rypiecandoit]

[rypiecandoit]