Also maybe porn if I want.
I wish I was in pain instead of the people I love.
Looking at the people around me is painful, I’m not disgusted, I’m sad and scared.
I look to my peers; punks, liberals, teenagers, and artists, and what do I see? Hate.
I love punk rock because it spreads a message of love, universal love or at least equality, if the song doesn’t then fuck it, I don’t wanna hear it. Then I see the people who also love punk, and they are seething with hatred, hatred for everyone who doesn’t think the same way they do, hatred for everyone that wants to silence them. I’m liberal because I believe in very few laws, and I don’t believe in the death penalty. Then I see the other liberals, and they are seething with hatred, hatred for conservatives, hatred for racists. I think I should feel a connection to other teenagers, we lived through the same times at the same ages. Then I see the other teenagers, and they are seething with hatred, hatred for their parents, hatred for other teens, hatred for their teachers. What about art? The one thing I cannot live without, art defines me and it defines the world around me. Then I see artists, and they are seething with hatred, hatred for their critics, hatred for themselves. These are my peers, the people I should be identifying with, but I have far too much love to consider myself a part of them. These people claim to love the world and it’s people, but if an ounce of hate lives inside you you’re a hater. Even if you’re always talking about loving each other if you for one second say how you want revenge or try to put someone down then that is all I will hear, like a razor blade in an apple, even if you’re mostly sweet, all I taste when I bite down is my blood.
So I look to my allies; Feminists, communists, libertarians, and what do I see? Hate.
Feminism is noble, and it’s omni-important to fight for your rights. But feminists are seething with hatred, hatred for the media, hatred for anyone who thinks differently from them. Communism is beautiful, the idea of complete economic equality is wonderful. But communists are seething with hatred, hatred for capitalists, hatred for the rich. Libertarians and I have a lot of similarities, as I said before I believe in very few laws, we disagree often but never enough to stop from being friends. But Libertarians are seething with hatred, hatred for anyone who tries to take away their guns, hatred for anyone who tries to take their voice. These are the people who should be joining me in battle, the people who should fight alongside me for a brighter future, but instead they will hate me because I think differently from them in small ways.
Now I look to my enemies; Racists, Douchebags, Anti-intellectuals, and what do I see? Hate.
Not only do I see hate in them, but these people define themselves with hate, racists for black people or asian people or white people, Douchebags for homosexuals or women or anyone different, Anti-intellectuals for the intelligent and creative.
Hate is the problem, love is the answer. Don’t hate sexism, love all sexes, don’t hate racism, love all people, don’t hate the hater, love the hated. In the words of Felipe Coronel, better known as Immortal Technique, “My revolution is born out of love for my people, not hatred for others”.
I’ve never know of a group that practices what I preach, well… I’ve heard of one, I’ve seen them in movies and heard about them in stories and seen them in pictures, but never have I met one or known someone who met one. I don’t know where to find them, but if anyone does know, please take me to the hippies.
whoa i forgot about red
I didn’t read the tag at first, which made me have a strange thought about what it would be like to forget a color, imagine it; A man who never leaves his house, never uses the internet, and not one place in his house has the color green. He just sits and reads his books all day, day after day. Until after finishing one beautiful story about two teenagers with the same name, he looks at the author… John Green… Suddenly, visions of forests and moss and grass flash before his eyes, he gasps from the realization. “Green… green…” he thinks to himself, pushing up from his chair, the books falls to the ground in a clatter reminding him of leaves cascading against each other in a spring gale, playing a song of nature that, to him, seems to whisper “green..” Forgetting to put on shoes he bursts out the door, and standing before him is a tree in his neighbor’s yard, the color, so novel yet so nostalgic, represents to him a new passion for life, and a new love of himself. He collapses to his knees with tears in his eyes, there are people around but he doesn’t care, this is his moment, this is his life, this is green.
Evidently pontificating in insurmountable pretention fails to hinder ennui.