Sunday, August 16, 2009

The Hate Files

There is a calm clarity to my hatred that is missing in me at all other times. In love I am awkward and unsure. In indifference I am scattered, apathetic. But in hatred -- not red-hot rage, not white-hot fury, but cold and calculating hate -- there is a kind of purity, a peace, at my center. The proverbial eye of the storm. An understanding.

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