Those who were lucky have a certain smugness about them. It’s a stench only the cursed can smell, but by God can we ever sniff it out with the accuracy of a bloodhound.

It’s not their fault. They were lucky, they have faced minimal struggle, life truly is as easy as the little platitudes they offer. Trying to explain the all crushing despair of self-hatred and struggles the cursed have, the poverty because life just doesn’t care, is like speaking to them in an alien language.

We who are cursed are doomed to die early by our own hands. And we can never make the lucky understand or care about us.