It's weird, and messed up. But I hate everything. How can anyone possibly hate everything? I'm asking myself how it's possible to even appear hateful in this world. Those that expose anger and fronts constantly do so in the act of "love"; yet they appear to hate more then I do. So how is it that in reality, I end up hating the world more? I "pretend" to be nice yes, I "act" sincere and caring for sure. But I only do it because I honestly don't know how to feel anything like that. I have been put in situations where I am unaware of causing pain until the person I'm facing has been brought to tears. It spooks me every time too, I remember once screaming the entire day to my mother, she just ticked me in the wrong direction that day. From morning till nightfall any request made by her or statement was welcomed with my shouts of agony and "emoism". It wasn't until that she started crying was I aware of the pain I was causing her. I meant to write about love, not hate, but they're so intertwined that it's impossible to do so. So to the normal civilized human condition, I'm hateful.
What does this have to do with love? Well, for one thing, it's not present. Recently I was discussing love with two of my friends who are very much deeply in it. One a male, the other a female, both in love (not to each other) but to a person they both feel are capable of fixing every problem in the world for them. They asked me if I have ever felt it, I responded with no. They then asked me if I would ever find "her", and I responded with "obviously no". This led to an argument, about my attitude and emotion toward this world... this reality. "No one in this world can put up with me, no one in this world can even take a few steps beyond understanding me, if love truly exists out there then I am the exception, I'm too much for anyone here at the moment", that's what I stated after my last comment. "You're telling me that out of the billions of people on this planet no one on this planet can understand you? I call bullshit, you're just full of yourself" proclaimed Richard. He's usually defensive about weakness's, and like me, I know he feels that love is usually nothing but one. "Yea, you'll find her, you just have to give it time, it's not like you're going to find her tomorrow or anything but maybe a month or even ten years from now" followed Yudith. I was surprised to see how hopeful these two friends where both for me and my quest for love. But I didn't want either to feel miserable, the only reason they where both with me in the first place was because both their love's where unable of being in our setting at the time. Otherwise I'd just be the 5th wheel. They continued bashing the idea that like they themselves, I will one day find a woman with the perfect body and brain capable of putting up with my shit. With a heart of gold and a vagina that has yet to be pampered like an ally cat with a black hole for a mouth. According to them, it will happen, but for the sake of letting them smile (and forget for 5 minutes that they themselves are in love), I continued to look down at the idea of relationship. I could have stated the awesomeness of being single, how everyday is merely an adventure with no strings holding you to the side requesting a constant fucking therapy session. With no blushing faces looking down at themselves for being incapable of producing courage. I could even point out the fault that from an evolutionary standpoint, love only exists through a time limit, and it can be shut down at any giving second with proper mind control.
But I'm getting off track again, like usual I only ever do it because I write through heart, what you see me put down here is what I am really thinking. Wanting to write about love and starting the conversation on hate is only proof of how off track I really am. But I'll try and keep it at it's center this time. So, what is love? O this is why I started that story about us 3, I asked them both this question. "It's when you'll do whatever it takes to keep that other person happy", both of them said it, not like a chorus choir, but like politics who are all in the same party. Anyways, is that what love really is? Going back to an argument I made on a different form of writing, I stated that I've never been known to love myself. So if love is whatever it takes to make someone happy, I definitely don't love myself. You know what will make me happy right now? A million dollars, but guess what, I can't really get that any time soon so I figure that to be excusable under my current circumstances. But you know what else would make me happy? Loosing weight, gaining the ability to study like a pro again, and finally getting this thing called "responsibility" down. Those things, I can get. Those things are within reach and I don't reach out for them. Those things, are right under my fucking nose, so much so that I just have to look down with my vision (not neck) to view them, yet I decide to stay still and let the sweat on my forehead drop around it performing a ritual that imitates patience at it's highest degree. I'm waiting for me to love myself, is that even possible?
I have so much more to add to this, but I really don't feel like typing it out, it won't feel on form with the rest of my writing. So I'll just leave it here, and let you all figure out whether or not you all love yourselves too.