Diatribe

I hate you.

No, it’s not because of something you did to me personally. It’s deeper than that.

I hate you for breathing.

I hate you for taking up my air.

I hate you for hassling me.

I hate you for watching “Friends”.

I hate you being a walking billboard for some fashion magazine.

I hate you for buying Oprah’s Book of the Month.

I hate you for the flag sticker in your front room window.

I hate you for your devotion to that damned Bible.

I hate you for Minute Rice.

I hate you for Shake and Bake.

I hate you for “Seventh Heaven”.

I hate you for the Victoria Secret Catalogue.

I hate you for fast food.

I hate you for going to the mall.

I hate you for driving everywhere in a hurry ignoring the world around you.

I hate you for pledging allegiance to a piece of cloth instead of your fellow humans.

I hate you.

I really fucking hate you.

Yes, I do.

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