(no subject)

[apiphile]

always remember that you are less.

there's two kinds of people in this business baby. the ones who glide and the ones who strive.
you're neither. you're just not enough of a person to be a glider--
who the fuck are your parents even?
--but you're not real enough to strive, you know, like--
--what's your story, even?

pseudonymous peggy's wealthy family aren't relevant to her success,
that's just the wind beneath her talented wings; you're just jealous.
you've got to know the right people and you've got to know the right things to say
the right names to drop into the right group chats you've no right to be in.
but the truth is you're just no good, baby. you have nothing to say
that we want to hear.

fakename kate is super authentic, okay? her daddy was a preacherman,
worked in a factory, environmental poisoning, misery porn for days;
she's willing to do what you're not: prostitute the pain she's had
so we can lap it up and stroke ourselves silly at this Real Life Suffering.
and what the fuck have you got? precariat self-loathing and tedious
transgender complaints? you're not even talking about
your sad vagina, your alienated parents, your grandmother's strong hands
making ethnically-alien bread products
in a literary zooo.

always remember that you're just not enough
unique enough, original enough,
real enough.
what's real about a life you shrank
to fit into the narrow shelf
that was a high as you could climb?
sure t. s. eliot wrote masterpieces
as a bank clerk,
but you're an uneducated
lower-middle-class
failure
and your poetry
doesn't
work.