I have never been a people person, not even when I was a little kid. That’s actually when I started to dislike people – I most certainly despised my fellow students – and by the time I was in my teens, I actively abhorred the human race with a passion. I kind of still do, to be honest. People are the worst creatures on earth, the most aggressive animal doesn’t hold a candle to a serial killer or even an armed robber, and if the planet were rid of homo sapiens, it would be a better place.

Why don’t I kill myself, you might be wondering? I don’t believe in suicide, it’s a cowardly act – and – well fuck this shit, it’s none of your damn business why! There. I feel much better now. Anyway…I do not have any love for most humans, particularly outside of my immediate family, and the reason I have affection for them is because they are my family. Why should I have any fondness for those that detest me, such as White Supremacists and other racists? Hell, I don’t even now you! I don’t love anyone who has hatred in their heart towards me, and most people are assholes, undeserving of love or anything else other than the utmost loathing.

Since my teens, I have my firm reasons for feeling such abomination towards human beings and here they are in no special order:

  1. Racism
  2. Murder
  3. Rape
  4. Abuse
  5. Greed
    Pieter Bruegel’s The Misanthrope
  6. Selfishness
  7. Ignorance
  8. Weakness
  9. Misogyny
  10. Elitism
As a teenager, I really started hating others, particularly other adolescents. I was bullied a lot – though not as much as my brother and his friend at the time – and it left a lasting imprint upon me in the form of loathing for those ages 13 – 18. I still find teenagers the most obnoxious, unlovable, benighted, vexing, and savage bastards on earth and always will.
By my 20s, I had turned into an atheist as well as a misanthropist. I am sure my penchant for true crime had a part in it, but so did my treatment at the hands of fellow homo sapiens. I have never been a popular person, I was always one of the last chosen for a team, I never had many chums – except the White girls, who were friendlier towards me than the Blacks, who always were rather jealous – and I nearly always refused to speak up in class. I never participated in discussions unless forced to by the teacher. I was a Lone Wolf before I even knew of the term.
Into my 30s, I realized that I would never have any special affection for human beings; it was also around this time that I discerned that I would probably never have a relationship of the sort that other heterosexuals did. I am not sure why. All of my relationships with men ended before the sixth month and often by the fourth. It seemed to me that the guys only wanted one thing, sex, and when they couldn’t get it as often or as quickly as they wanted it, they moved on – or rather, I did. I usually would end the relationships, such as they were, by changing my number or email, or simply stop calling the guy. Once or twice, I moved and did not tell the man involved what was going on. Once I end a relationship with someone, I never want to see that person again.
As I approach my 50s with alarming rapidity, I am at peace with the fact that I will never love the human race. Even with the threat of everlasting torment in Hell – which I do not believe in – I have not embraced the challenge of loving people. It simply won’t ever happen and I can live with that.


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