Hateful People, Part MCCXVI
I hate it when a pretty young stranger walks by, and another woman makes a disparaging remark about the pretty young stranger, such as, “I bet they only hired her because of her slutty little outfits.”
What the other woman is really saying to me in that situation is, “I hate that I’m not young and pretty. And I hate that men treat pretty women better, but I don’t have the guts to say that to any men I know.”
I hate it when someone rich and beautiful says, “I’m unhappy because my husband’s been beating me,” and then one of her peers or supposed friends says, “Quit complaining. I’d be happy to have your life.”
What that “friend” is really saying in that situation, to me, is, “I spend all my free time thinking about how miserable I am, and I take no responsibility for the way my life has turned out.”
I hate it when assholes get all the attention, even though the people calling them assholes are the ones giving the attention.
I hate it when an asshole’s getting attention, and then stupid people flock to support that asshole because they want to be on the side of the asshole, not on the side that the asshole makes fun of.
I hate people who lie to make themselves look like something they aren’t. And then lie to themselves. And then make up lies to cover their lies. By the time it’s all said and done, isn’t it less worrisome and time consuming simply to become the thing you lied about being in the first place?
I hate it when all the hateful, miserable people in the world inspire me to become hateful and miserable in turn.
I hate being a hateful person.
