I hate stubbing my toe, smacking my wrists on extremities, waking up late, doing homework, sleep paralysis.
I hate the garbage television. I hate the garbage universities. I hate the garbage system itself.
I hate groupthink. I hate people who hate me.
I hate that my very existence is determined by other people.
I hate that I cannot explain myself properly.
I hate that the ones closest to me cannot understand me because of my failure of being able to explain myself.
I hate that I'm broke after paying rent.
I hate that people are dying needlessly all over the world.
I hate pedophiles.
I hate rapists.
I hate murderers.
Does this make me a hateful person?
I will admit to being a closeted optimist at times, especially when I'm outside of cities. I can't rationalize how any of this has worked for us as long as it has. If our species could get back to living the way we did even 100 years ago, while keeping a few of benefits of our "higher" technology, I would have trouble finding anything to be genuinely hateful about. That's a classic pandora's box scenario though. Once you figure out the microchip, you're never going to unlearn that limitless power. Nor will we stop expanding beyond the carrying capacity of our planet using chemical fertilizers, or stop manufacturing plastics, or stop building automated systems that will eventually make us irrelevant.
It is that inevitable self-destruction that I hate most. Its in our nature to build and and explore, but eventually we run out of new things and places to dominate, and set our own progress back hundreds or even thousands of years.
The end result of our reckless pursuits always seems to be our species trying to walk before it can even crawl, and falling on our faces. My concern is that this time we've decided to run before we can crawl, and we might all just take a spill we can't just dust ourselves off from.
Hopefully that metaphor makes sense, I'm a tad drunk.