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We’re a fucked up species. Simply put.

I hate many, many, many things. I am a very small and very hateful person. I’m sure it’s relatively unhealthy to have so much pent-up rage going on in my system, but I can’t fucking help it. People are generally idiots, and I don’t tolerate idiocy well. Correction, ignorance, bigotry, an overall lack of common sense all fall under idiocy as subcategories. I hate crocs shoes, and the people who typically wear them. I hate most everyone with a tribal tattoo, or flame tattoos, or barbed wire, or anchors or ships or octopuses. I hate people who drag their feet, who take thirty minutes to put together a cohesive sentence to contribute to a pseudo intellectual conversation. I hate pseudo intellectuals, though I fear I fall into that category sometimes. I hate Republicans, I hate Democrats, I have less of a distaste for socialists and anarchists only because I pity them a little. I hate people who wear jeans to a play, and girls who wear “the half shirt.” The half shirt is never OK. I hate women with knuckle tattoos. I hate compliments because i never know how to take them, as harmless as they may be. I hate desperation. I hate inability to be totally honest with oneself. I'm guilty of this all the time, or just delusional, who knows.