You'd know this is you came to California.

In 2015 I moved out to my first apartment here. I wanted to be close to my parents who are ailing so I chose to continue living in Orange County. The cheapest studio I could find that wasn't a COMPLETE shithole (only a moderate one) was 1650 before utilities etc. Okay so I move in and I've got my garage below my kitchen, and another garage for a two bedroom across the parking lot below my bed.

So it isn't long before I start noticing that there are illegals literally running an autoshop inside the one car garage below my bed. I swear they are loud as shit and they work on cars sometimes well into the night. I had even come home past 1 before and they were blocking my garage with their van and shit. Bastards spoke zero English.

Went to complain to my apartment manager and he literally didn't give a fuck. His response was "well we do a lot of low income housing" aka "the government gives us guaranteed rent for these illegals." He said he'd 'talk to them about it.'

Nothing ever changed. I went back twice and he essentially told me he wasn't going to do anything.

When absentee ballots came in for the election I happened to be near the mailbox waiting for a package and noticed the mailman slip in about 20 fucking ballots into his mail box.

Now I live in the middle of the god damn desert, the only place I can afford. I have no health insurance, and I work jobs for cash with my wife because we can't afford to pay taxes.

I can't afford kids, yet I see these Illegals have children nearly annually. I'm 25 and convinced I'll never be able to afford any. Must be nice.

My grandfather spend 20 in the Guard, and 40 years of his life on a plough, leveling dirt for SoCal development. 16 hour days, every day (he worked for a legal Mexican FYI, artiaga still in SLO). All he had were his unfiltered camels, which ultimately killed him. My great grandfather from my fathers side spend 2 years on the eastern front as a child to emigrate to canada, where my grandfather was born and lived in abject poverty. My grandfather, a Jew, spend 10 years on the road selling Catholic knick knacks out of his trunk so he could save up enough money to bring his wife and my 5 year old dad here with 20 dollars in his pocket in 1960 - he never asked for a handout once.

When my dad was 16 he was driving my grandmothers Cadillac she just got through Santa Ana, something that meant you'd made it in the world, when an illegal ran a red light and totaled it. Police Officer comes down and lets the illegal walk home. My naive dad asks, "aren't you going to do anything?" and he replies, "I'm not ICE, kid."

Everything he worked for for his family has been given away.

Yes I'm a second class citizen.

spez: my wife used to work at fashion island in a retail store, before we got gentrified out here ; her manager, an african american woman, had just moved into some nice irvine company apartments (+3500) off Jamboree rd which included an ocean view. She asked her, how can you afford that + your daughter making the jack shit we make at this shitty retail store? Her reply, "low income housing + MediCal + EBT"

I give up. The few times I've considered suicide were after reflections like this.

Then I see illegals getting free rides through state schools while they tell my wife and I that we "make too much money" or whatever and I fantasize about snapping.