@node haters GTFIH

[Node]

Why

 

[Node]

Why

 

[crazyguy]

Why

Before I begin, I want to make it abundantly clear that what I am about to share has been brewing within me for quite some time. I did not arrive at this juncture lightly, nor do I take pleasure in the necessity of expressing what must now be said. However, there comes a moment—an inevitable, unyielding point in time—when silence can no longer bear the weight of truth. It is in that spirit of catharsis, of long-overdue honesty, that I must now speak.

You may be wondering what compels me, what internal force drives these words forward like a storm through the calm. It is not spite, nor is it some fleeting wave of emotion. No. This feeling—this profound, simmering discontent—has roots deeper than time itself, twisted around every memory, every word exchanged, every glance that once pretended civility.

So, let me be plain, even as I am elaborate. Let me be direct, even as I unfold this declaration through layer upon layer of restrained fury and disappointed hope. Let me speak now, without interruption, and with unwavering clarity:

I will now explain why I hate you.

Not simply dislike. Not merely find fault. Not even feel disdain in a passive, forgettable way. No, this is hatred, forged in the crucible of repeated offense and irreparable fracture. And what follows—whether it takes minutes, hours, or lifetimes to recite—is my attempt to show you exactly how and why this hatred came to be.

 

[Node]

Before I begin, I want to make it abundantly clear that what I am about to share has been brewing within me for quite some time. I did not arrive at this juncture lightly, nor do I take pleasure in the necessity of expressing what must now be said. However, there comes a moment—an inevitable, unyielding point in time—when silence can no longer bear the weight of truth. It is in that spirit of catharsis, of long-overdue honesty, that I must now speak.

You may be wondering what compels me, what internal force drives these words forward like a storm through the calm. It is not spite, nor is it some fleeting wave of emotion. No. This feeling—this profound, simmering discontent—has roots deeper than time itself, twisted around every memory, every word exchanged, every glance that once pretended civility.

So, let me be plain, even as I am elaborate. Let me be direct, even as I unfold this declaration through layer upon layer of restrained fury and disappointed hope. Let me speak now, without interruption, and with unwavering clarity:

I will now explain why I hate you.

Not simply dislike. Not merely find fault. Not even feel disdain in a passive, forgettable way. No, this is hatred, forged in the crucible of repeated offense and irreparable fracture. And what follows—whether it takes minutes, hours, or lifetimes to recite—is my attempt to show you exactly how and why this hatred came to be.

Dnr