Sometimes I wonder if I don't know what hate is. I wouldn't say there's anything in the world that I hate. Well, there's probably self-loathing, but what part of that is a jumbled up mess of your own other unresolved problems?
I look around, I ponder the situations I've been in and the people I talk to, and it's hard to muster up a memory or judgment or perception that is malicious to the point of hatred. I feel defective for seemingly not having this part of human experience.
I don't even often say I hate things as a joke. I guess when I was younger I decided that letting the words enter your consciousness will make you eventually have them sincerely, and I didn't want hate in my heart. Well, there is the self-hatred, and the jury is still out on that.
Maybe I've been thinking of hatred as too single domain-focused. I had only considered BIG hate, overwhelming and consuming hate. Maybe I have this with myself to such the point I find it hard to recognise the little hates?
The "I hate getting up early in the morning", or "I hate getting up late in the morning". Is micro-hate necessary to regulate action? We can't have a duty-roster without hate fueling the engines of time?