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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                             Hate Therapy
                             ------------

So I found myself in something of a funk last week. Before I go on, let
me define "funk" in my terms and give a bit of background. When I was in
Jr. High and High School, I found myself constantly wallowing in depression
and self-directed hatred. I never opened the blinds, never went out, had no 
real friends to speak of, spent hours just staring at the ceiling and 
basically just wanted to will myself out of existence on a daily basis.
I was as close to goth as one can get without listening to all that
shitty music (Insert pseudo-apology to goths here). And for as close as
I came several times, I, fortunately, never got up the balls to put the
shotgun in my mouth. It's easiest for me to justify that whole "phase"
as teenage hormonal and psychological confusion. But upon further
introspection, I see some other factors involved in my departure from
self-destructive tendencies. 

I have to think the main thing was that I externalized everything.
So anyway, like I said, I was in this funk last week. It's as close to
depression as I have been in a while. As usual, it was for no particular
reason, what so ever (which always makes me feel even lamer since there
is no cause at all.) I had been keeping to myself for a couple of days,
didn't even feel like going out or dealing with anyone. So what do I do?
I go out.

Why? To mingle with the rest of the humans that invoke emotions greater
than depression. To get angry. And I'll be damned if I didn't feel better
after driving around, screaming at all the morons on the road and being
annoyed with every single idiot in Denny's. The beauty of it is, you
don't even need something personal to hate them for. You don't have to
be racist or elitist or fascist. You just have to be a ME-ist. Just to
know that all the people around you, are not you, is often enough to
dislike them at the very least.

It makes things easier that way.

I think people underestimate the the therapeutic value of hating other
people. It is infinitely easier to get pissed and Joe Schmo for being
a fucking prick bastard, moron than to rip myself apart inside believing
that it's ME that's a worthless piece of shit. It could be true, but you
can't make me believe it anymore. Especially since I have come to think
more highly of myself than I used to. If you don't give a shit about
yourself, no one  else is going to do it for you. Common sense, I
thought. But when you take all the destructive chaos that does nothing
but pick away at your mind and ego and you make other people wear your
nastiness, it takes all the shit off your shoulders.

I know this sounds really "prickly" to some of you random-acts-of-kindness
people and all I have to say is: you're hated too. Don't feel left out.
What you have to understand is that some people are incapable of seeing any 
bright sides. You just have to go with the steaming pile of shit emotion 
that makes you the least uncomfortable. You just have to cope.

The down side for the hate-therapy is if you are one of those people
that don't like being judged as a bitch/ asshole before anyone really knows 
anything about you, this probably isn't the method for you. You get into 
the cynic's mindset about everything and it's hard to get out even when 
you want to. Personally, I could give a shit. I'm not a big fan of the 
Human Race as a whole. I got used to people assuming I'm a bitch. But
that's another story.

So the moral of THIS story is, give hate a chance.

- Wednesday

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