Chance

Have you ever had this feeling of hate without any reason? Like you just hate something just because. No solid reason. Maybe you hate something because how the thing is.

Of course, we all have things we hate because they fucking deserve hate. Like ISIS, or more recently Donald Trump. Sometimes we even hate ourselves, and I'm not talking about some emo episode that one time because you listened to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus or All-American Rejects or whatever the fuck. I'm talking about self-loathing that can only be paralleled by, say, your extreme fondness of your cat, or how kids love ice-cream. That kind of self-hate. We've all done it. Some handle it better than others, some kill themselves. That's reality. Reality sucks. 

People often hate because they are afraid. Hate is a defense mechanism. We hate Trump because of how his ideology is endangering Muslims and Mexicans. We are afraid of change, be it good or bad. That's why we hate. Lo and behold, we human beings are so fucked up we use negativity to counter everything. Yes, everything. 

You must've had a friend who you never wanted. They just stick the fuck around. You hate this friend, for whatever fucking reason, maybe he once took your pen and never gave it back, or maybe she fucked your dad, or maybe just because. 

You must have a certain artist you hate. Maybe you hate the appearance of this particular artist, or maybe you just hate the genre. Maybe when you were a kid you saw a cat die and that particular artist was singing in the background, or maybe just fucking because.

Maybe you hate others because you're afraid of what they are gonna do to you once they get close to you. Yeah maybe some asswipe once broke your fragile heart into a million tiny pieces and boo hoo you can't fucking pick up the pieces. 

Maybe you hate yourself because you've disappointed yourself, or others for that matter, too many times and you feel like a worthless piece of fuck. Maybe you feel you're too useless to live and boo hoo no one is picking you up from the ground.

I've had my dad yell at me countless of times because I used the word "hate". I don't see the reason. It's a word. It described my feelings. It's four letters with a very strong meaning. Most of all, it's not a fucking curse word. I didn't understand. I still don't understand. Why can't I use the word hate? I was brought up in a very, very patriarchal family. Dad is boss. That's it. I never questioned. What a fucking mistake it was.

It's okay to hate. It's normal. Don't worry about hating. Whatever you're hating probably deserves it anyway. You can hate literally everything and it would be fine, at least in my books. What's abnormal is not giving these things a chance.

I'm a music junkie. I mostly listen to metal and other hard music, but I enjoy literally all kinds of music. I'm not exaggerating. Yes I used to hate many other genres because they were not metal. I called them sissy music. Pussy music. Girly music. Gay music. I was brought up in a patriarchal family, so please excuse my casual usage of homophobic insults. For the record, I'm not homophobic. Now, how come I love all kinds of music? Because I gave it a chance.

There was this one night I remember. My head was so heavy yet I felt as though I was floating. I was at a friend's place and I remember looking around that dank and stuffy living room. My friends were talking in murmurs. Low pitched, low volume, low enunciation. I couldn't make out anything they were saying. I didn't give a shit though. The TV was on. It was connected to a laptop and Youtube was on. Someone played some random songs.

It was beautiful. I felt happy. I smiled all through the 3 or 4 songs that someone, don't know who, put on. God they were good. I felt euphoric. I felt this carnal cathartic conscience just bursting out of my extremely heavy but floating head. Goosebumps followed. My spine was tingling. I heard less and less from my friends in the room and more and more of the songs that were playing. I closed my eyes and focused on what the lyrics were. They were beyond magnificent. They were love stories.

Then I realised I was listening to Justin Bieber. It was a pleasant surprise. Yeah I was in the bandwagon of hatred towards the Canadian cunt-wrecker. I listened to Baby back in the day and I was so appalled by it. This was when I hated all other music because they were not metal. I snapped out of my little epiphany and continued to browse other songs similar to What Do You Mean. Sorry was next, then I had some Ariana Grande, then some Nicki Minaj, then more and more pop music. I started to continuously nod my head according to the tempo. I like these songs, I thought. What the fuck.

Eventually the power of the majority overcame my plethora of euphoria. My mates wanted to watch some fucking movie. Can't remember what. That means it wasn't significant enough to overcome my sudden fondness of pop music. Like what the actual fuck I liked Justin Bieber. For the first time in my entire life I liked him. Why? I gave him a chance.

You hate someone? Give them a chance. Two chances. Three. Whatever. Maybe some people are an acquired taste. I have friends who are so stupid people usually stay away from them. Nevertheless, I gave them a chance and I found out I like these crazy mother fuckers. A loved one shattered your precious little red, beating heart? Give them a chance, at least for a fucking explanation. You hate yourself? You wanna kill yourself? You wanna end it all? Give life another chance. 

You were a result of chance, and there are people who will fucking dive into a pool of acid just so you would move the fuck along in life. These people gave you a chance. Use it.