Pardon The F Bomb

Hate.   I don’t get you.  So many things are done in your name.  So many things are done with you as the prompt and the excuse.   But I don’t get it.   I don’t get you hate.  And I don’t want to.

I am not filled with hate so there are certain actions I don’t understand.

I don’t understand people expending and even creating energy to spew you in to other’s lives.

Please know, hate, that I don’t confuse you with anger.  I get angry.  And then I try to get past angry.   I don’t get angry and look to turn it in to hate.   I look for ways to get rid of anger so it doesn’t simmer in to a slow and rolling and killing boil.

I don’t even know how to respond to you.  You surprise me when you are flung at me.  I have to admit, that makes me angry.   When I am being assaulted with hate and I’m looking at or listening to your assualt, I am not tempted to turn to you.  I am not tempted to become you,  hate.  I am horrified by what I see or hear.    My beliefs and the core of my humanity repel you even more.  I am strengthened to not become you.

But you still exist.

You think you have the right to judge.

You think you have the right to condemn.

You make decisions you have no right to make.

You stir the pot, poke the bear and fart out nauseous gases.

I have no desire to do those things.

But when you stir, poke and fart you intrude in to my world.

I have cowered in your presence.  Not because I fear you.  But because I am shocked.  How am I supposed to respond to irrational reasoning and lack of understanding?  How are those of us willing to work towards healing, compromise, tolerance,  understanding and compassion supposed to respond to something so vile and full of contempt.

I have cowered for lack of knowledge on how to respond.  I cowered, bewildered at being a target.  I cowered, because I care about how your actions may impact someone else if I respond with a rousing and powerful FUCK YOU.  So I don’t say anything.   Because I can’t hate enough to say and do things to hurt someone else.  Your actions and your desire to plant and grow within my heart and soul will not work.

Hate, I got one thing to say to you:

It ain’t gonna happen.

Whatever name you go by.  Whatever form you take.  Whatever scent you try to persuade me with.

You will never, ever, own me.


Speaking something with hate and contempt does not make it true.

It just makes you hateful and contemptuous.