Hello, Anita.

My words probably looked disconcerting. I don’t have a need to discuss that part of my demons, but I am fine to talk about it, if you wish so.

I have a deep hatred for humans. I think I had it ever since school or earlier, when I became target of fox hunt among my peers for the crime of being different.

My limiting belief about sexuality has nothing to do with that hatred, as it only mentions me and my desires, and not other people.

I have found out that it didn’t matter how many hours I would dedicate to meditation practice and listening to my body or mind. The hatred wouldn’t leave.

I think that hatred is my friend. It helped me make sense of the collapsing world, it protected me from wrongdoers, it kept me company when no one else would.

It does make my life more difficult, but as of now, my answer is just choose peace whenever I have strength for it.

The only way it affects other people is by depriving them of my company, which isn’t such a huge loss for them, I would figure.

My choice for compassion and peace has nothing to do with hatred. Having experienced abuse, I do not wish to walk the path of my tormentors.

Why does my writing sound so pretentious and also old-fashioned?

What I mean to say is, I don’t think that hatred and compassion contradict themselves. It’s just different parts of me.

Like when you might hate a family member for some deed, but also like them because they are family and human.

That’s best I can put it for now, without delving unnecessarily further.