You don’t know me.
You’ve never passed me in the cereal aisle or been stuck behind me in traffic.
I’m not the type you’d invite to your roundtable, fundraiser, or private island think tank—though maybe you should.

I’m no one.
Just a person trying to keep the lights on, feed my family, and stay whole in a world that often feels rigged.

But I see you. We all do. And we have some things to say.

You Paid $750. I Owed $850.

Let’s start with this:
You paid $750 in federal income taxes.

I owed $850.

That year, I was scraping by—picking up what work I could, watching every dollar.
You? You were building towers, taking flights, smiling on stages, making deals.

And still, I paid more into the system than you did.
Don’t you think something’s broken?

Yes, I’m talking about you, Donald Trump.
We saw the returns. We read the headlines. We remember.

Source: NBC News — “Trump’s tax returns released by House committee show he paid little in taxes” (Dec 30, 2022)

You, Zuckerberg

You settled Trump’s lawsuit. You visited him. You bent your policies to align with his.
You gutted your fact-checking program because it made him and his followers uncomfortable.

I left Meta. Because I won’t support a company—or a man—who courts power instead of defending truth.

You don’t need more political favor. You need a spine.
You chose appeasement over accountability.

And from down here? It doesn’t look principled. It looks like a payout.

You, Musk

You polled your followers about turning Twitter’s HQ into a homeless shelter.
You floated the idea that you cared. That you were curious about solving something hard.

And then you vanished from that conversation.
Or worse—you reappeared just to mock it.

Now you call the word “homeless” propaganda. You call people with nowhere to go “violent drug addicts.”

You could’ve helped.
Instead, you chose cruelty cloaked in data. Arrogance wrapped in memes.
You made yourself feel bigger by making others feel small.

You, Bezos

Your workers skip breaks to meet quotas.
Some wear diapers.
Meanwhile, you chase the edge of space and build clocks in mountains.

You could’ve changed everything with one decision.

But you didn’t.

And let’s not pretend the company you kept didn’t reveal more than just bad taste.
Jeffrey Epstein had friends in high places—right, Trump?

You, Walton Family

You built an empire on low wages, part-time hours, and public assistance.
Your fortune rests on the backs of people who can’t afford to shop anywhere else.

How much is enough?

I’ve nearly cut Amazon and Walmart out of my life.
Almost all of my groceries now come from somewhere else.
Because I take what’s happening in this world seriously—and I know it’s not right. Don’t you?

This Isn’t About Jealousy—It’s About Decency

Before you dismiss all this as resentment, let me explain how the game is really played.

You might think people like me are just bitter. That we “hate the rich.”
Let me stop you right there.

I’m not jealous.
I wouldn’t trade places with you for all the private jets in the sky.
Because this isn’t about envy. It’s about decency—and the fact that the game is rigged in your favor—you know it.

You live inside a system that wasn’t built for people like me—it was built around you.
And here’s how that system quietly works in your favor, every single day:

1. The “Money Makes More Money” Machine

You don’t even have to work for it. You put your millions into investments, and they multiply while you sleep.
Regular people? We can’t access the same hedge funds or private equity deals.

Your snowball starts at the top of the hill, already massive. Ours is a handful of slush.

And taxes? You often pay less than we do as a percentage. Why? Because your money is made through capital gains and structured loopholes.
We pay on wages—we sweat for it.

Some of you didn’t build an empire—you were born into it. That’s not a crime, but it is context.

2. The Rule-Bending Privilege

You don’t fear audits—you have people for that.
You don’t fear lawsuits—you can stall them with lawyers until the other side breaks.

And when you don’t like the rules? You hire someone to change them.
We sign petitions. You write policy.

3. The Cost-of-Living Advantage

Your companies buy in bulk and cut deals. Your money appreciates while ours erodes.
You own assets that beat inflation. We try to save in accounts that lose value.
You win by existing. We fall behind by standing still.

4. The Peace of Mind You’ll Never Understand

Do you know what it’s like to have your entire mood shift over an unexpected bill?
To lose sleep because of rent?
To ration groceries so your kid has enough?

You don’t. Because your life has margin. Ours has survival.
And when you’re not constantly bracing for collapse, you have space to dream, to rest, to build.

That’s the real currency of wealth.
Not just money—freedom from fear.

You’re Playing a Different Game—With Different Rules

So no, this isn’t about “good” or “evil.”
It’s not even just about you.
It’s about a system designed to protect, grow, and shield your wealth—while the rest of us tread water.

The truth is:
You’re not smarter.
You’re not better.
You’re just better positioned.

And if you don’t use that position to level the field, then what are you doing with it?

A Bit of Advice From Down Here

If I could offer one piece of advice—not as a policymaker, not as a think tank executive, but as someone living real life—it’s this:

Volunteer.
That’s what some of us do down here.

We give what we can—our time, our energy, sometimes our last good nerve, and sometimes our last dollar—because it matters.
And maybe that’s how we’ve come to understand how complex these issues are.

You won’t grasp suffering from a boardroom.
Go feed the poor.
Visit a nursing home.
Talk to the families trying to care for someone with no support.
Walk alongside the social workers placing people without homes.

Sit with the people who suffer. Really sit. Really listen.

You might discover that these people aren’t broken.
They’re not lazy.
They’re not beneath you.

They’re just positioned differently in this life experience.

And if you have all this wealth, maybe it’s not about luxury jets and media control.
Maybe it’s about learning something.

Because if you’re not here to grow, connect, and help others—what’s the point of all that money?

The Kind of Wealth That Matters

Let me be crystal clear:
I’m not jealous.
I could never be.

I don’t envy the private jets, the gilded towers, or the world that bends around your name.
Because I would never want to be so out of touch that I miss the richness of this gorgeous life experience—the kind you can’t measure in yachts, tax loopholes, or paid applause.

Wishing for your life would only distract from the beauty I’ve come to know down here.
The realness. The depth. The resilience. The way people hold each other up with nothing but love and grit.

From this life view—the one you write off as “ordinary”—I’ve seen more than you could ever buy.
We may struggle. But we see.
We feel.
We grow.
We live.

And that? That’s wealth you’ll never fully understand until you step off your pedestal and join the rest of us in the real world.

So no, I’m not jealous.
But I do wish you’d catch up to the rest of us.

Sincerely,
No One