yes, even you

i hate everything right now.

hate hate hate hate hate.

i really hate my stupid fucking job. i hate it a lot. i hate its balls off. yes, the force of my hatred is such that my job's balls (were it to have any) would just fall, the fuck, off.

i hate christmas. i hate christmas so fucking hard... christmas can suck my slick monstrous cock. and i would totally smack christmas' face with my cock, hard, like, to leave cock-shaped bruises all over christmas' face. and not in an "i love you" sort of way... in the other way.

i hate my self imposed loneliness. i hate that i alienate the friends i do have, fail to make new ones, and exile myself from the land of the people who date.

i hate my neverending cycle of horniness, masturbation, and self-loathing. i'm pretty sure its not healthy, either.

i hate my inability to do anything meaningful, or even vaguely productive, with the little spare time i do have.

i hate that i'm convinced that this is a grave personal failing on my part, and that really, i'm just lazy, and not working hard enough, and making excuses, and fucking away my life.

i hate how noisy its getting in my brain. i hate how angry i am at everything. i hate how overwhelming this anger and dissatisfaction is, and how no matter where i go or what i do, it doesn't stop. it doesn't end. because you cannot escape yourself, so far as i can tell.

i hate how divorced from anything spiritual i feel. i feel dead inside. i know that there are worlds alive beyond the walls of my mind, but where those walls were once porous and permeable, they're now hard like concrete. i'm trapped between them.

i hate how meaningless everything feels. i hate how everything is a "why don't i..." followed quickly by a "why bother."

i hate people. particularly in large groups. particularly when they're all in a good mood because its christmastimeandaren'tyouinagoodmoodtoo!!!???

fuck, that, shit.

i hate running myself ragged and filling myself with such hate for no purpose in particular save the fear that if i stop running, i'll just fall into pieces on the ground. that and the little money i make.

i hate my stomach.

i hate feeling unlovable, or unsafe to love, or unable to love, or unwilling to love, or too scared to open myself up to any single life expanding experience that may come my way, including love, but encompassing everything else there is.

i hate feeling hot and vacant inside my head. i hate being blank, not knowing, not feeling a pull in any direction, let alone the "right" direction. and i hate not even having the patience or willingness or balls to start searching.

i, am really unhappy these days. and i'm not fully sure how to make it better. i want the chance to "win," but i don't know what to fight for. and i feel trapped, and manic, and blank. and i want to find the new, the better, the win, but i don't know where to look, and in the meantime, all i want to do is escape this situation, or escape my own head.

weed has been looking pretty tempting recently. that isn't healthy.

nothing seems terribly healthy anymore.

hate isn't healthy.

and i am very much full of it.