Comments by "Matthew Ingerson" (@matthewingerson) on "Lex Fridman" channel.

  1. It's been awhile since I cried. I'm not saying it's abnormal for me to cry -- quite the contrary -- it's just been longer than normal since the last time I cried. But listening to Bernie & Lex got me choked up. Sure, I've heard Bernie's talking points a thousand times, but when he & Lex went back & forth about how money has removed mental & emotional burdens, and provided a sense of stability & security, I lost it. But it didn't last long... I can't help but weep for those who are worse off than I am, and I've spent a lot of time doing it. For me, crying is an outlet for the energy that is generated by my desire to help people when I can't help. I wish I could do more to help, but I can't, so I cry. And I've seen some terrible stuff -- I think most of us have, whether IRL or in the media -- but, personally, I've experienced some of the best of humanity through homelessness. Human suffering isn't a monolith -- good & bad things happen to people whether they have homes or not -- but my life was, is, and will continue to be riddled with suffering. I've come to accept it, and I think I deal with it pretty well. I mean, despite my own troubles, I feel like I have experienced the feelings that Bernie & Lex expressed regarding how money removed mental & emotional burdens and provided a sense of stability & security. But I'm poor. I've never held more than a few thousand dollars in my life, I have over 100k in debt, and I've been underemployed for 20 years & unemployed for 7 years. Yet, somehow, I've felt unburdened & secure. In fact, I think I have felt least-burdened & most-secure during some of my most destitute & desperate times. And as much as I would like to feel unburdened & secure WITH a place to live, I'm not willing to sell my soul just so I can sh!te more comfortably, but souls seem to be the currency of choice in this system. My soul might be broken, but it can't be bought. Though I would give it away if it meant no one else had to suffer after I was gone. Perhaps I'm crying less-frequently because I'm too righteously-angry to cry. Maybe my crying doesn't last as long because I'm so oppressively-stuck Or, perhaps, maybe, it's because I'm just too stiflingly-exhausted. May you all be well. ✌🤟✊🙏
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