Hate.

I'm breaking into my reruns to let you know I've been running late with everything lately, keeping myself so busy I don't have time to be crazy, and unfortunately when I stretch myself that thin, I snap faster and easier than those old rubber bands I have in the tin over my desk.

Because I was raised to be polite and encouraged to understand that everyone is different, I tend to shy away from really letting it fly when I have an opinion about current events, because after all I am merely a pasty little woman from The Bronx and haven't got a clue what it's like to be, say, Tom Golisano, who totally flipped the NY Senate this week because he doesn't want to pay higher taxes for his billions. Hey Tom! I have several people you can send your overabundance of money to, that way you get into a lower tax bracket and I get to maybe stop the rain from falling into my house.

I'm pretty open minded, though. You know, I'm all for whatever makes you happy. Unless of course nothing makes you happy because you're a hollow shell of a human bent on ridding the world of what you find intolerable. Then you're just being ridiculous and need to go shoot yourself before taking that gun to a museum or church. Although I rarely get a chance to go to either, I'm pretty sure museums and churches are places where you're meant to reflect and...you know...NOT KILL PEOPLE.

It's easy to hate, I know. Quick and easy, no thought involved, just react to everything with hate and fear and intolerance until all that's left is...nothing.

I hate haters. Can't tolerate the intolerant. Fear people who feed fear with their catchphrases and empty words. The world isn't as bad as the sick see it. Look outside. Wait. Something good is still there. Has to be.

Hate.