I'm not ashamed of my feelings.
I'm in love with all this anger,
obsessed with this depression,
crazy about my anxiety.

I'm not ashamed of my hatred,
the way it boils up inside of me,
the way it bubbles and spills over.
I hate politics,
I hate race,
I hate religion.
I don't discriminate.
I hate everyone equally.
We are all worthless,
robots with a pulse.
We are all equally worthless,
none of us special,
all of us the same,
dying each and every day,
one at a time.

I'm not ashamed of what I think.
I'm not lost in a world of new technology,
I'm not a teenager with silly problems,
I'm not suicidal,
simply because I wonder
what it would feel like
to taste the metal of a gun
in my mouth.
I'm not a *****,
simply because I enjoy ***.
I'm not eternally ******.
I'm not worried about
heaven or hell.
I'm not worried about death,
sweet release that it is.

I'm not afraid of these things,
these thoughts and feelings.
I'm not a dreamer
and I'm not a realist.
I'm lodged in the logistics
of culture and society.
I'm free falling
between atheism and existentialism.
Hate me for not believing
in God or humanity.
Hate me for loving only myself.
Hate me for saying
what you have probably felt
but never actually said.
Hate me.
I dare you.