I hate sitting on chairs where my feet don’t reach the ground, where I have to shift forward to make that contact.
I hate the cold that numbs my fingertips, never my fingers just the tips. I always place them on my ribs just to check how cold they are.
I hate coffee that isn’t sweet enough. Lukewarm showers and boots that rub my ankles.
I hate running out of things to say. Awkward silences. Hollow promises. Flowers that wilt on their second day.
I hate remote controls, channel hoppers. Television as background noise. Capitalism, war, greed. Shallowness and snobbery.
I hate running for the bus. Forgetting all the things I should have said. When time stands still….it’s always at the wrong time.
Hate is probably too strong a word, but you know what I mean.