Ines Mariel

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

"Haters: they hate what you look like, whacha wearing, whacha drivin, whacha think about, whacha talk about...they fuckin hate it but you gonna have to understand thats the way it is.....Have you eva caught a muthafuka starin at you with the "i just caught the stomach virus face"? ever just out yo peripheral everything bout you just fuck with them." - Kat Williams

Honestly I don't really mine that I have haters because it reminds me that I am still relevant even to the people who loathe my guts and can't stand to be in the same room as I am. It is an inevitable vicious cycle that I myself am a part of. Still there is healthy hate, and there is the hate that is just pathetic. 
Healthy hate as I like to practice is by bitching about that person while stalking their Facebook...of course most of the people I hate I have already blocked,so that leaves me and my imagination picturing all sorts of tribulations that eventually lead the people I hate to a slow, but painful death. Like a scene out of Saw. As sick as that sounds it doesn't really affect the person I hate, because unless all of my imaginations come true I don't see how I am hurting them.
Which brings me to the other method of hating. 
The sad, pathetic practiced by ball-less low life kind of hate. A disclaimer : unless you are allergic to other peoples' happiness, it is a mystery how someone can actually choose this path. I imagine that they weren't hugged as much as a child or had to sleep in a kennel when they were a baby, but regardless of what the causes are, it really isn't an excuse. 
Unless of course you have a face only a mother could love... which by the way really depends, because even Quasimodo had a heart of gold, and he, of all people should be hating on his parents for finding each other and giving him the wrong set of genes, or the whole human race as a matter of fact just because plastic surgery wasn't even introduced back then. Granted, he is a fictional character... so just omit everything I said after Quasimodo.
Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah..
Personally the way I see it is, for a person to devote their valuable time and effort without second guessing to post hate comments really is a beacon of how poignant their life is. 
Can you imagine how hard it is to think of malicious slurs whilst pointing out all the instantaneous flaws you find the millisecond you open their blog, and worse of all not being able to take any form of credit for it because your low self esteem only goes so far as to only enable you to hide behind anonymity? Sure there are certain high breed assholes out there who can do this effortlessly, but bitch please, if the highlight of my life is to listen to an asshole, I might as well lock myself in the room and hear my own fart. Get it? Fart cuz it comes from your ass hole? I'm funny aren't I?
I would write more, but I really do not want to insult those who are already insulted by my presence but still insultingly comes here often to be deliberately insulted, because really, it is insulting. Like comparing your geography test scores to a sloth. Or claiming that you are better than Helen Keller at a game of spot the not.

Happy New Year everyone!

P/S : I really miss writing, even for short posts like these despite harnessing the vocabulary and writing skills of a 6th grader. New Years resolution #87247793 : to write more on blog
P/S/S : I find this song very addictive  



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