An Open Letter to all Depressed Rich People

“Ooh WOE is ME! I’m so RICH I can do whatever I want whenever I want and I never have to worry about the things that keep most people up at night. I’m healthy and wealthy and I just can’t believe how DEPRESSING that is! It’s so HARD to be ME!”

If I hear one more actor is being treated for depression I am going to personally hunt said actor down and kill them using only the lid from a can of Campbell’s Soup. No. The plastic straw from a juice box! Honestly. It’s bad enough we have to constantly hear about how fabulous their lives are with their 8,000 room mansions and their sixteen cars which are each worth six times what I make in a year; but we also have to listen to them WHINE about it.

Yes, money doesn’t buy happiness, and it can’t buy me love according to most scholars and mop tops, but it DOES solve a FUCK OF A LOT OF PROBLEMS, which frees up time to fall in love and dance in the moonlight without your shoes on, or whatever the fuck they do. I have more problems than most people twice my age, and believe me if I had even 1% of what some of these stars make – no, make that 0.1% – I could maybe get a good night’s sleep.

Money isn’t the Answer, money is the path to the Answer. If people didn’t need it, they could focus on expanding their minds through art and culture, instead of spending a third of their lives staring at pixels dancing on a screen. We could focus on the important things in life, like love, compassion, and peace. Instead we are forced to slave day after day making other people rich while we struggle to stay out of debt.

I would gladly trade places with one of these “depressed” rich people, even just to show them that life is what you make it, and if you’re blessed with something like financial independence, you should try not to act like you’ve got the fucking Plague.

…or Cancer…

Mood: FUCK YOU RICH PEOPLE.