Yes, I hate everything. That isn’t to say that I don’t like some things, but I also hate them at the same time. I hate everything because everything and everyone on Earth deserves to be hated. I hate you and I hate everything that surrounds me. Including myself. I hate myself too.

Everyone is a bastard. I’m not sure hate is an emotion as much as it is part of me. It flows through my veins, and latches on to anything it sees and hates it, hates it with the utmost passion that it surely cannot be healthy. I want to destroy everything I see. And people, people are the
worst. I’m so jealous of everyone. I just want to be them, to know about them. And it doesn’t help that I have a curious mind. I’m so interested in everything, apart from everything I hate. Which didn’t make sense, because I’ve already told you that I hate everything! I hate that.

And I hate me too. But I also hate suicide and would never kill myself because I hate the thought of pain and I’m also desperate to live forever, to see everything. I believe that if I had everything I desired, I would still ask for more. And I would still hate everything. Oh I try and tell myself that when I’m older everything will be fine. (And I hate the way that made me sound like a loser angsty teenager, even though I’m it’s true.) But I just know it won’t. Because I’ll still be surrounded by everything, everyone. And hate will pulsate through my body with enough venom to kill everyone. But it won’t. I’ll carry on hating for the rest of my life because I’m an unhappy individual who hates. That’s me. Hate, hate, hate.

And do you know what? I hate you too. Reading this. Reading my hate. And I hate the way I’ve written this. I sound so stupid. And I hate the editor for creating the site so I can share my hate.

I wonder if this is even on the site. I hate it if it is and I hate it if it isn’t. Ah well. I’ll just carry on with the rest of my life. And I’ll hate and hate and hate forever. I hate that. I hate everything.