The Nation’s Top 1% has nothing on me.

Matt Hyams
May 5, 2016 · 4 min read

I’ve got 2 things to say to the top 1% of the country, those of you who make more money than the rest of us combined:

  1. MONEY DOESN’T BUY YOU HAPPINESS.
  2. I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY.

Don’t think I’m unhappy because I don’t have money. Not for a second. If I had money, sure I could buy things but they would be temporary fixes. The benefit I have — and you don’t — is learning true lasting happiness that doesn’t ebb and flow depending on how much money I have, or not have.

You sit up there in your glass towers drinking champagne out of gold flutes while the rest of us sweat it out at the bottom and you know what? We’re happy, goddamnit. I mean, I’m not, but don’t worry it’s got nothing to do with money. Just a coincidence. Don’t make anything of it.

How happy would you be if you lost your billions? I bet not too happy, because you don’t know what it means to be happy without money. But we, the people, some of us anyway, not me, but most, not anyone I know, but many, we know how to be happy.

Look at me for instance. I’m poor, I can’t buy anything. Am I happy? No, not by a long shot. Why would I be? But not because I’m poor. Don’t you get it?

Unlike you, I’m dealing with things, accepting sadness, and that is my happiness. You wouldn’t know what that’s like because you avoid suffering at all costs by throwing money at it.


You make me sick with your wild salmon and Chilean red wine. Literally, it makes me sick. Because food that rich wouldn’t work with my digestive system. I’ve been eating old salad dressing and hard rice for the last week because my gas was turned off. You think I could swallow a piece of salmon with a soy wasabi glaze and roasted garlic fingerling potatoes? Has all your money made you that blockheaded?

Do not think for a second that I want to switch places with you. You don’t know what it’s like to be content while you sit on the floor without a TV or phone, without light, on a deflated air mattress. And neither do I.

Does my toilet flush? Hasn’t for a month.

Where do I shower? When it rains.

How do I stand it all? I radiate my happiness from within, or will, once I learn how from a book I saw at the library.

Do you know that feeling? I wonder. I really do. I wonder if I’ll ever know it. But if I do, it won’t be because I came into money.

I know that happiness comes from within. So I’m spending my time learning how to ration, while you’re stagnating on a couch with throw pillows, playing billiards, and laughing. Sounds disgusting, albeit very comfortable.


You can’t take anything with you when you die so I hope you’re ready to leave it all behind. Now I’m two steps ahead of you because I have nothing to leave behind.

In fact death would be a welcome change for me. Can you say that for yourself? Can you say that you’re honestly ready to leave this world? I can say it, and I do, every night.

What will you do when death comes for you and your butler can’t prolong your life? What will you do when you’re laying there on your oriental rug, staring at your Picaso, your life force slipping away and no amount of money can keep your heart going?

Know what I’ll do? Let its warm embrace scoop me up. Goodbye starvation, I’ll say. Goodbye, squalor. Goodbye, muscle failure. Goodbye, surviving on what the sushi restaurant throws out. Hello death, hello happiness.


If you like my writing (and even if you don’t) please click the heart below. I’d love to hear from you!

Follow me on Twitter and Instagram.

Matt Hyams

Written by

Comedian, writer, housewife, deemed "Really Good Person" by Buddhism Magazine 2 wks in a row.

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade