Walking through the streets of my city I have developed a new habit. I order people as being higher than me, lower than me, or equal. Sure at the existential we are all equal, but there are those that walk this earth that I would like to be closer with, and there are those people for which some distance would not be such a bad thing. These people I would like to be closer with I call higher people.
With this new habit I have found myself in the middle of an age old struggle. A class struggle. As dark as the tunnel gets there are very few of these higher people on the bus or at my job. It’s as if the bus is an asylum we have sorted the sorts of people we want to keep off the roads, far away from the drivers; and my work is simply the job held by someone who has not quite graduated college yet.
Almost never do I take self acceptance to be the answer to my struggle and instead take on the challenge of overcoming and climbing the social ladder. Onwards and upwards, entitlement, confidence, and one new number everyday.
The thing that deserves the most blame for the situation and class that I am currently in; myself. Money, power, self control. It’s a struggle at this point and it’s a vicious fight. I am smart and relatable and starting a business is the path I will choose.
Plus one for the dark side.