I say it all the time; I hate people, I hate humans. I can't help but love them though, despite all their stupidity the modern media has fallen into. At the same time, I hate myself also. I'm such a hypocrite. I tell people all the time that life is worth living, that it could be so much worse, but right now I'm having a hard time convincing myself that. I get angry when people can't make up their minds but I'm terribly indecisive and semi co-dependent. I hate so many things that I turn around and do myself then forget about it like I wasn't just yelling at someone for the exact same thing. I hate my mother for craving control. wen really, I'm just like her.
I feel bad for the worst of us. I really feel for people who are rejected and cast aside because of the things they do and feel; I cry sometimes for murderers and people in jail because they're never getting another chance.
I saw Les Mis on Christmas Day and cried the entire time. That's how bad it could be. But it isn't.
I could be dying of AIDS like Freddy, but I'm not. And even then he still went and recorded that last song. All that's wrong with me is my family. That's it.
Or maybe it's just me.