Men who had nothing, knew nothing, were nothing, yet who stood above me as if they sat on thrones. I remember them. I remember all of them iirc.

The father who said I was a Joke and wouldn't pick me up from places. The Bald manager with mustard on his collar, calling me lazy with his chest puffed like a rooster. The “friend” who offered advice with the tone of a priest, but the soul of a snake.

Each one certain. Each one smug.

They had answers; loud ones, wrong ones.

The more they failed at life, the louder they spoke.

The fatter their belly, the harsher their judgment.

And I was supposed to listen. Supposed to kneel.

Supposed to absorb their unearned certainty like gospel.

But they were wrong. About everything.

About me. About the world. About how it all works.

So I ask you:

Who did this to you?

Who spit in your face while standing in the ruins of their own life?

Who mocked you while knowing less than nothing?

Tell me. Tell us.

If only they knew.

If only they could see you now.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5754688&forum_id=2...id.#49131781)