Enemies are out there. I’ve seen them. I’ve lived with their insults. I’ve felt their curses, their contempt leaking into the words ‘queer’, ‘gay’, and ‘lesbian’, poisoning them. They’ve projected their own ugliness into the words, turning them into badges of shame. Their virulence pulses within those badges, making those with every right to proudly claim them turn their backs in shame.
Hatred has power. It terrifies me. Being brushed with it contaminates me in turn. Every time I’m exposed to it, I feel my own hatred, vibrating with me for the ones who inspired it. I imagine all the ways I could strike back. Some of the solutions I’ve come up with sicken me. I wonder what kind of a person I am, who could even dream up such a thing. I remind myself that to do something like this would take me one step closer to being like our enemies.
It’s only too easy to transform into a monster of hate. I think of Adolf Hitler. The first thing that comes to mind is a pile of dead bodies, lying discarded outside of a concentration camp. He came up with a truly horrific solution to his hate.
Does anyone remember that he loved as well as hated? I think he truly did love Germany in his twisted way. Yes, it’s impossible to think of it as any way other than twisted. His love was forgotten, crushed beneath a grisly monument of hate.
I haven’t forgotten, though. I remind myself of it constantly, when I’m thinking of what I love and what I hate. It’s only too easy to get lost in the latter and lose the former.
My hate isn’t going away, though. It rears its head and hisses every time it’s provoked. I must not give in to it, but I can’t simply ignore it.
I try to channel it. I write private rants which I put aside. Later, I may edit them into something more helpful. I may even post the results.
I’ve poured a lot of the rage into my villains. I’ve given them my horrific ideas. I’m grateful to Dyvian, Duessa, Vanessa, Corwyth, Nevalyn, and my other baddies. They’re helping me to use my hate to create art.
They’re also taking the fall for me. It’s something I feel a bit guilty about, even though they’re not real. They’re showing their readers that hatred doesn’t work.
Love conquers in the end of my stories, even if they’re not romances with happy endings. These conquests may take a form that surprises everyone, including me.
How about you, dear reader? Have you ever hated? How did you deal with it? Did dealing with it inspire you?