Inspired by my brothers I Hate Poem from 2nd grade English
I hate that Israel and Palestine can’t come to an agreement, I hate that religion is the worthless fire of their feuding. I hate when my car slides into things, I hate the way that I feel when I’m not dreaming. I hate colors, and light, the sun most of all, I hate remembering, I hate memory, I hate this sordid withdrawal. I hate assholes on TV that try to sell you things, I hate those media monsters whose only purpose is to manipulate the minds of developing human beings. I hate doctors, and pharmacy’s, I hate that they have us by the balls, I hate that they worship faceless statues of promised wealth and gold. I hate the way people smile when I see them in passing, I hate courtesy as a necessity, I hate regurgitated greetings. I hate the way people judge you before they know you, I hate that kindness is abused and generally taken completely wrong. I hate the word “Serious,” and the way people use it, I hate that in recent context, it is only used as a sexual cushion. I hate Kanye and Jay-Z and icons who think they are gods, when they are not deserving of anything aside deserving their necks meeting saws. I fucking hate anything Rob Thomas writes, I hate anything he is involved in, It makes me want to tear out my insides. I hate people in church’s who pretend like they know, anything of real servitude while walking hallways of gold. I hate that children die every day, and that people have the nerve to say it was planned by God this way, I hate stupid customs done by wrote, I hate people believe so passionately in fairytales out of ancient books, I hate the images they portray without reading a single fucking word. I hate ignorance, and bliss and the saying the comes along with it. I hate that everything I wear is made with poison by children, I hate that its always cheaper and more convenient to do anything that is destructive, I hate the need for money and how easy it is to fall through. I hate blind nationalism, and guns, and wars. I hate when I walk into a store, and see, “Every third dollar goes to charity,” I hate how most lap it up and smile, I hate that glow of nauseating achievement and the light in their eyes. I hate to pretend like I don’t feel afraid, I hate to dispose of anything that makes me feel safe. I hate needles, and whores and more things than I can think of. I hate that at the grocery store I heard some crackhead say, “Nothing healthy needs to go in your mouth,” to his defeated daughter with dirty hair and eyes that belonged to the grave. I hate this godless unrest that has been sleeping next to me. I hate the awkwardness the comes with new meetings, I hate the fact that I want to say so much and don’t know where to begin. I hate how god made it so cold and still sends the wind. I hate feelings and how they grow, the farther away they are the tighter I hang on to their ropes. I hate death, and life and the fact that we all have to live for what? To die? I hate misery and mirrors, reflecting back behind my eyes. I hate that these things will not leave my mind, I hate to write when it’s so much easier to writhe. I hate the messages you send, how you try to make me forget. I hate that I’ve been alive this long and was still taken in, I hate that you fucking ruined my life, I hate that I can’t give up and escape your lies. I hate being treated like an arm to help people up, and I’m tired of trying to help when I’m feeling so fucked up. I hate selfishness and embracing it, I hate mind games and thick skin. I hate that you all want to fuck and still just be friends, I hate that you all mistook me for a beggar and a completely submissive man. I hate that art is all that matters to me, and I hate that in trying to express it, I fall short completely. I hate that truth is so often euphemized, I hate that in general its awkward to say what you really feel. I hate that lies are so easily idolized, and that even when caught up in their webs, people would rather save face and subside.
I hate that I feel relief writing this, and I hate that I wanted to keep writing but I didn’t.