Yet I Find Myself Lacking
No, surely I have no problems. I am no beggar, I do not starve; I am no criminal, nor would I need to be; I am no vagrant, and look not for support. Yes, it could be worse.
No, surely my problems mean nothing. I could be ailing of disease, I could be beyond repair, I could be on the brink of destruction. Yes, it could be worse.
No, surely there's always someone more worse off than I, and I could not compare; shame on me for complaining. Yes, it could be worse.
No, surely I want for nothing and there are those in the world who would kill for all that I have, who hurt for the most basic of needs. Yes, it could be worse.
No, surely I am not pained for I am living a life of leisure plenty, and wealth. Yes, it could be worse.
No, no, no. I do have problems, and I am not perfect. I may not be the worst, as there will always be worse, but that should not lessen me.
The existence of others should not bring my value, my own existence, down beyond comparison, regardless of my privilege.
I may not suffer as others suffer, and I may not know fear as others do; but this life of mine, it is all I have ever known. Surely that-
-surely that is enough?