i wanted to rant about how much i hate my job and my car and my life and pretty much everything that has anything to do with me, but i realized i even hate ranting and writing and typing and computers and blogging and websites and the internet. i especially hate anything that has anything to do with government or media or consumerism or money or people or causes. i hate working. i hate being bored. i hate chores. i hate waking up. i hate cooking. i hate cleaning. i hate homework. i hate parties. i hate gatherings. i hate dirt. i hate dust. i hate being the last person on the call list. i hate being the organizer. i hate being dumped on. i hate being dumped. i hate guilt trips. i hate fake compliments. i hate eye contact. i hate interruptions. i hate phone calls. i hate sleep-drooling. i hate not having a cat. i hate not having a real bed to sleep in. i hate my upstairs neighbour. i hate that i never get mail on fridays. i hate distance. i hate loneliness. i hate idiots. i hate the nosey motherfuckers who think it’s their job to check up on me. i hate spam. i hate raw mushrooms. i hate my crappy fridge. i hate being broke. i hate being in debt. i hate hating so many things. i hate that you now think i’m a hateful bitch who has no idea of the priviledges she claims. i hate being miserable. i hate sweating. i hate dirty fingernails. i hate tailgaters. i hate awkward silences. i hate strangers. i hate that skunk smell. i hate my sore wrists and my sore neck and my sore tooth and my sore back. i hate the way i feel if i drink more than two beer in an hour. i hate that farrah fawcett hair is back. i hate that i don’t care i’m wasting time thinking about all the things i hate instead of actually doing something to eliminate some of the things i hate from my life. i hate that i haven’t had coffee in two days. i hate being so far away from some of my favourite people. i hate that i lost so many years with my dad. i hate that it’s not time to go home yet. i hate that i’m hungry and i have nothing to snack on. i hate that i think i’ve disappointed more people than i’ve impressed. i hate hating.
i don’t hate you. in fact, i think you’re pretty cool.
i don’t hate you either. i’ve been in much the same mood as you before, many times. i think you need to drink some coffee, i’m sure that would help you feel better! ;-) enh, it’s okay to revel in hatred every once in awhile i think. if you don’t know what you hate, how can you know what you love and appreciate? perhaps try writing a list of all the things you love? i know i’d love to read it!
I hate that arguments are breaking out among friends trying to decide on what to buy as a group gift for a mother who just lost her twins in her 8th month of pregnancy. How petty can you be, people whining over their favorite choice not being the one chosen. Ugh.
do you hate yourself? because if you don’t, you have a great base from which to operate to change a lot of things in your life that aren’t going the way you want them to. if you do hate yourself, then none of the rest of the stuff you typed matters until you address the bigger issue.
*smooch*
and i… get sick when i’m around
i…. can’t stand to be around
i… hate everything about you.
hate everything about you.
ok, heather dear, that’s twice you’ve stuck that song in my head now. where’s the love?
vent it alllllll out. it’ll make ya feel better.
and i definitely dont hate you. frankly, i love you!
I lik that skunk smell.
Like. I LIKE that skunk smell.
you *don’t* hate Dave Grohl :o)
i hate people whos daddy paid for their college, i hate people that think i need to do something with my life. I hate people that feel sorry I got fired from my job. I hate mornings. I hate women only wanting to date men with money. I hate that love isnt free. I hate that it takes more than love to make a relationship work. I hate going to war to help people that are almost living better than me. I hate wanting to die. I hated filing bankruptcy cause I couldnt find a job to pay me enough to live on. I live for one purpose now…go to a crappy job with crappy pay just to look forward to going home and getting drunk and passing out. screw trying to better myself.