The Journal of Joe The Peacock. Yay.: Hatred

9.17.2007:

Hatred

10:44 PM

I hate the pain I feel in other people.

I hate watching someone exert their will on another, simply because no one will stop them.

I hate the obsession this nation (well, the world, but particularly this nation) has with the concept of celebrity.

I hate passing the newsracks in supermarkets and bookstores and seeing these photoshopped models gleening and glittering in their unnatural, software-enhanced "beauty" and knowing that 3 out of 4 girls who pass the same magazines will hold those images in their minds as the ideal to which they will aspire.

I hate my cynicism.

I hate your indifference.

I hate the fact that it cost me over thirty dollars just to send some cookies to friends in Kenucky overnight.

I hate that there are famous people who are famous simply because they're famous.

I hate that the general citizenry will never question why that is.

I hate that I can carry a book of matches or a lighter along with a few magazines, or an aluminum soda can (which can be folded a few times and ripped at the seam to create a blade), or a brick and a tube sock (or a pool ball, or oranges), or any number of actually lethal and dangerous items on a plane without a second glance - but I have to take my shoes off so they can check for bombs.

I hate that I often tend to say things nicer than I want to when I disagree with people I've just met.

I hate that I feel the need to be compassionate to people in need who have once hurt me.

I hate that I can't go a solid calendar month without someone brining up either my biological father or my brother.

I hate that I even have to care about going out of my way not to think of them.

I hate that I only know one language.

I hate that the number one killer in America is Heart Disease - a condition brought about by sheer excess and laziness... And there are people in this very nation who have gone today without something to eat.

I hate that we even have the concept of a minimum wage.

I hate that I am writing this here instead of marching on Washington with a crowd of millions with me and a rifle in my hand and demanding that people wake up and pay attention.

I hate that there are people on this Earth who honestly think that it was created by a bearded, judgemental diety less than 6,000 years ago.

I hate that those same people breed.

I hate that my idea of activism is telling someone their politics are wrong, instead of serving my country in public office.

I hate that anyone lives in fear of our government - the people we've hired and whom we pay to do a job for us.

I hate that people confuse memorization with learning.

I hate that some people allow what little intelligence they do have to get in the way of acquiring more.

I hate that the only way to acquire wisdom is to be a victim of not having it first.

I hate that a child will go home tonight from an Emergency room without proper care to a wound, fracture or condition simply because his mother works a minimum wage job with no benefits and cannot afford insurance.

I hate iced coffee.

I hate that my friends feel so alone.

I hate that I can't take their pain away and make it my own.

I hate that I love them so much that I'd want to.

I hate that I can't stop caring.

I hate that violence is the only recourse some people have to resolve conflict.

I hate that there are people who's only salvation is that the law won't allow violence to resolve most conflict legally.

I hate the "news".

I hate that Rolling Stone, Spin, and Blender get away with calling anything they cover in their wretched ad-filled pages "music".

I hate blogs.

I hate that I felt the need to write any of this down.

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The Journal of Joe The Peacock. Yay.

9.17.2007:

Hatred

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