I'm super fucking poor. Was homeless for years too. Like no idea what I'm gunna do for food until Friday poor. And my brother is super rich. Seeing his lifestyle compared to me I'd still much prefer my life. It's a perpetual cycle of complete hollowness where no experiences are real outside of whats posted on Insta, money means nothing so possessions mean nothing so you wear whatever magazines and pop stars tell you to even if you hate them, you go to business lunches after business lunch on a continuous hangover that never ends and laugh and do coke with people you hate. You don't live in a home of comfort or safety, you live in a an IKEA showroom. Women come easy because you'll only ever meet others as hollow and materialistic as yourself. I could go on but I much prefer the life I had. He suffers too but I feel like I can maybe find some meaning in the suffering whereas he can only throw money at it.