Hate is more fun, actually.

It is in times like this where I ponder our reasons to do things.

My country is stuck in an undecided war with the only victims being the general public. The youth of Germany carries the anxiety of having to serve in the military for the brutal war in Ukraine and the Americans.. would rather help Israel bomb and starve civilians instead of addressing the pedophile running the country.

So it is in times like this that I ponder why we are who we are.

Who am I?

Am i my history, the life I've endured, insignificant compared to the children of Sudan, but immense when talking about it to my peers? Or am I my achievements I've complied, despite that history? Am I my relationships I lead with my friends, my family and authority? Or the one i lead with my enemy?

Why do i do the things i do? How do I desicion-make? Who taught me my ego? Why do i like the things I like? Who am I to hate? To have an opinion? Do I learn enough? How am I not even remotely enough in the grand scheme of things but far too much in comparison to those my age, those around me?

I cannot answer these questions, is what I tell myself, because despite doing so much I am the laziest person I know. I do not read nearly enough, I am a fraud when it comes to getting educated. I take the shortest path, but that only leads to public success, not real.

I realise this while talking to him. He is utterly insufferable, publicly hated, and holds terribly outdated opinions. But i feel he is better than me. I am jealous, even though I live a better life. I have friends and a social life, plans on the weekend, and I'm not as hated as he is. I have people's respect, those I care about anyway, but I don't have his. And that challenge makes me want it most.

In my months long ponder of why we do things I've stumbled upon an answer you will expect from me. Love and hate.

Yes, they are all I speak of, that relates to the fact that they occupy my mind at all times.

Love is not unique in my life. I consider myself lucky to think of many people when I hear the word. My family loves me unconditionally, my friends with a couple conditions, and the world responds positively when I put myself out. I live in an abundance of love, because I was taught to ignore unreasonable critique. So hate is unique. Hate with a reason. Hate with a passion.

Plenty of people hate the concept of my existence, that is not up for debate. I am your country's right-wing party's most unwanted. My being a legal alien, a tranny, a bitch, too loud and opinionated, and queerness have earned me a bunch of hate. The policeman's son is illogical, purely bigoted, "just a hater". His loathing doesn't count because he doesn't care, he moves on.

A foe who cares truly too much, he is rare. One you loath back, not only because of his adversary, well he is one in a million. Mutual adversary feels great. You will do anything to get more information, the upper hand, one more thing to hold against them. And when you both do it, you get to know each other in a twisted way, never speaking but learning so much. And as the dam breaks, when one goes through with the urge to make contact, both jump at the opportunity to gather even more data.

That is why I know his perspective on God and the world, life after death, how many kids he wants. Details, folds of his brain, surrendered, without me having to push, in the hope of catching a glimpse. That is, of course, reciprocal. I too surrender lots when he is around, in fact much less shy in the presence of others beside him, while he very much is shy, mutually in the hopes of a minute detail of his life, his family.

All this to express gratitude.

To say I find more joy in hatred than in love because I am spoiled.

To explain it is more.

If, as Tim Keller puts it, to be loved is to be known, then the pawing at the data center of your life, just to resent you, is a love letter waiting to be slashed open.