It’s good to see the snakes revealing themselves. They weren’t actually hidden at all. People hide behind the masks, but eventually you see them for who they truly are.
I fail to see how somebody can hate me for ‘what I do’ and what I am without actually hating me as a person. That makes about as much sense as throwing the baby out with the bathwater – or gay man out the church door with his homosexuality.
Mind hates to seep in delusion soaking faintly discolored obsession.
It’s not love that you hate, it’s the loved one who betrayed.
They left like you knew they would. They went away and you fell like a stone. All the way to the bottom of your room. I see you, yes I see you. Sitting in your chair, hating every minute of it. Falling like a stone without even moving. It hurt you to know that you were right about all the shit you wanted to be wrong about. They always leave you. You put yourself in the right place to get left.
If love were human I would’ve set them on fire by now – a screaming blaze of smoke and flesh. I’d breathe in the blackness once more just to feel love’s destruction, its mortality filling in the hollow of my ribcage without a heart.
We may have different points of arguments from perspectives of belief, faith and religion.But we must not hate each other. We are one human family.
We are disposable tonight.
We are regrettable tonight.
We can’t touch one another without the world imploding, tonight.
Richard Wright, a Mississippi-born negro, has written a blinding and corrosive study in hate. It is a novel entitled “Native Son”.
Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?