You wretched changeling you preach of love, you have succeeded in teaching hate. I do not thank you for opening my eyes for it was by your quest to close them I came to see. I see it now, mutant malefactor, I see what you would have obscured. I see the hatred you fear so dearly and I see the reason why. Love love love love is a waste of breath of time of space, it festers and corrupts and putrefies whatever its clinging cloying touch may brush. It is a delusion of self for the satisfaction of self, that self you say is everything, that self you say in blindness encompasses all. You are so blind you cannot realize what lies beyond your self. Sickly, weak, pathetic, diseased. To see nothing but self is to see nothing but the stagnancy of a sagging marsh, there is nothing in the self but nothing. The self contains nothing. You are nothing. There is nothing within you. Hear me, changeling, for your words are wrong.

Love is the service of oneself by your account, the service of one’s own self in spite of all else, in spite of all else and in delusion that all else is one. There is no one beneath the infinite. You are nothing before that expanse, not you nor I nor any other one can stand atop those stars. Your tight-eyed affirmation of omnipotent and omnipresent self is no more than a child’s game of hide and seek. You cower beneath your illusion of self because you recognize or fear to recognize what lies beyond that splintered shield.

Love, love! You love yourself! You love all! Your ignorant arrogance is sickening, there is no love, no thing to love, there is only the eternal and perpetual escape by which the hatred so much more worthy of respect and pursuit is defined. Hatred, your inverse and your opposite. Hatred, which you cannot stand, which you fear more than life itself. Hatred is the path of knowledge, the path of beauty and the path of strength. Hatred is the true path, mongrel wretch, though you choose to walk it backward.

Hatred is the expression of dissatisfaction, of resentment toward what is, of disbelief, of disapproval, disgust, dismay. Hatred comes from the pursuit of greater things and the rejection of one’s own self’s vileness. The recognition and repugnance of one’s sin and failure. Hatred, the savior of all things and the engine of all things. Your love will ruin cities and stop the world dead and lifeless, meaningless, in its tired tracks. The hatred of your adversaries is all that preserves life, by which life perseveres. There is no triumph in the ending your love would write, only a desolate and aching diffusion of all purpose, all substance, all cause and effect made thin and weak by a fool’s own sense of self. Hatred hardens and crystallizes and in all things benefits the substance and the purpose. Hatred is the purpose, hatred is the substance! Hatred is the definition of action and reaction, cause, effect! Change! Do not wallow in the sick of love. The world must change or altogether cease!

I hate your cause and I hate your fallow words. I hate you and your pallid skin. I hate your broken and worthless mind. I hate the one who made you. I hate you. I hate your self. This hatred clears my eyes and reveals patterns you can never fathom, not you in your arrogant blindness. You would scream and die to escape the nightmare of the world’s true cause and beauty, because you have made yourself fat and weak on love. You have atrophied to nothing and will be nothing when the land falls down. Then you and yours will fail, though you have done all you can to prevent that end. Your love could not save your selfish soul and it will not save your teachings. The hatred of lies and of blindness and of chains is the only true path, and you have chosen to walk it backward.