Burning Hate

(Since I started the theme of emotion, I might as well stick with it. The polar emotion of love- hate.)

As complex, multi-faceted creatures; we are all wired differently (thank god for bluetooth). Although, we share many similarities, we are wholly our own person. That said; how we deal with things is up to our own little motherboards.

Little pet peeves only exist because we choose to let them get under our skin. But what happens when that little peeve decides to sprout into HATE? A very strong word, reserved for those very rare occasions to express utter discontent.

There are many hates that we all harbor. Some more serious than others eg. My hate for Irene Bester, which is totally just I might add- I mean how can a baggy old hag continuously wear pearly pink lipstick, eyeshadow AND rouge with her lycra wardrobe that always sports an African animal print. I understand that we're supporting "Proudly South Africa" but come on! And that wretched Aussie accent? (Yes, I have been wronged every time I change the channel) blah, blah... But when does this dark collection start to infect and fester the organ of love? It is only a matter of time before our organs become tarred and blackened. It's definitely a cause of concern.

I'm sure we can eat our veggies and maybe our once blackened organ of love can regenerate itself. If that fails, we can always slap on a patch and call it quits. Or better yet, we can make a list of all the hateés that have graciously affected us, write a letter to each about how they've wronged us, sleep on it and burn the letter the next day.

Bonfires have always been very therapeutic to watch!