Hypothetical Conversations with Fictional Characters. [curse warning]

Just found out at least one of my journals has been deleted... What? Why? Not a clue.
~

Ever heard the term "money can't buy you happiness"? See, all you poor people have to be reminded of it. It's like a warning to you. I never had to be told. I lived that truth every God damned day of my life. You all think that every fucking problem you have can be solved with just a little money. It's all "if I was rich, I could do this" and "maybe one day, if I could just get some cash." Well, you know what? That doesn't solve shit.

Ever wonder why so many people, rich and famous, resort to drugs? Alcohol? They go through all this self destructive shit, like a cry for attention everyone knows they already have enough of, and yet none of you people can get it through your tiny, little, judgmental heads. You say we discriminate against you? I see all of you, every day, assuming that every fucking person with designer clothes or expensive cars is a bitch or an asshole; and, worse, you assume they're happy with it! You assume that if someone has a big house, their life must be just grand, all fine and dandy, full of smiles and parties and fucking rainbows!

How 'bout this, eh? Imagine yourself living day in and day out with a house that big. Now stop with all the greatness, and replace it with emptiness. Because sometimes, that's all there is. Emptiness. No smiles, no cheer, no happy fucking family in that perfect little world you all conjure up inside your thick skulls. Sometimes all there is, is one big fucking gap in their reality that can't be filled with something as trivial as a new car or a pair of $3,000 shoes. Sometimes, it's even worse. Sometimes the emptiness is broken, every now and again, with screams and tears and a raging fucking fire.

All of you, you were supposed to be his friends. Do any of you really know what was going on? Think about it. All of you, all the time, complaining to him about your petty lives, all these issues you think could be solved if only you had a life as fucking fantastic as his. All the while there he is, wishing you would all shut up long enough to see that his life wasn't so perfect. You're all telling him, he has it all. What could he ever be upset about? He's got everything you've ever wanted, after all!

Want to ask again why the kid would commit suicide? Want to tell us again, how his life was so much better than everyone else's? Do you even realize what you were doing? He could have been suffering for years and you wouldn't have known it. All you ever did was sit there and tell him how great it all was, how you envied it, how he was at the top of the world and you were all staring up at him. Maybe he knew the truth you never bothered to listen to.

Tell me, do you know what you were really telling him? Ever think maybe all he got from it, was a simple little concept that finally sent him over the edge? Because all you ever did was tell him that it couldn't get any better than Hell.

~
I'm thinking of using this as an intro to a new story, or maybe a rant from one of the characters in the one I'm working on...
Something like this flowed through my head with a new voice while I was doing the dishes earlier.

Thoughts?