Read, If You Too Hate...

I hate this town, this horrible stinking town. And I hate the people in it and the lack of people in it. I hate the lack of cool people in the world. The lack of love in my life. I hate that Jeromiah has a stupid gal online. I hate that Derrick has a stupid gal in life. I hate that he might go to war and die. I hate that I have to depend on my parents. I hate that I am hopeless and faithless and might wind up in hell. I hate that I have no one genuine to care for. I hate that I'm not cared for. I hate that I have no one to hold. I hate that my eyes hurt from being tired and that my feet ache from lack of circualtion. I hate that I now have to drive a hoopty van while I should be cruising in my Jag. I hate that I am a horrible person. I hate that I think and do horrible things. I hate that Dan is turning into a man and that Alisa is leaving. I hate that I can't be a fab singer. I hate that I can't start a band. I hate that I can't travel the world. I hate that I have such a lack of ambition and determination. I really hate that I live in a constant stagnant state. I hate that in the pit of my stomach lurks something that makes me want to vomit. That I don't know what it is. That it could be Satan. Oh wait, I am Satan...it couldn't be him. Ok, maybe it is God. Maybe that is why I feel that burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. My fire is being kindled. Maybe my fire of life is being kidled. Maybe I should just snuff it out in an instant. Say, with a blade or bullet. Pills would be nice, but then if I were to be dead and gone, I'm sure I'd still have much to hate. I'd hate that I were dead. That I had no body. That I couldn't smoke. Or have sex. That I couldn't hug or feel the emotions that it gave me. That I couldn't see all the beauty in the world. That all I could do is float. That I wasn't in heaven or hell. That I knew heaven and hell weren't even real. That everything that I ever believed, even when I didn't believe or didn't believe that I didn't believe, was false. Or that God was real but that he just didn't give a care. I'd hate that I couldn't play with children or see their smiling faces and their innocence. I'd hate to not know where I was or what was beyond where I was. So in essence all I know is hate. All I am is hate. All I'll ever be is hate. Hate, Hate, Hate, Hate. The word sorta flows like water. It's bitter and full of rust but water still. And from here, I rush into it and go with the flow.

~*~Lievout~*~

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