I hate random bouts of blues, which catch me on the weirdest of days. I hate wanting to hang out with some one and not being able to. I hate people judging me on the way I am. I hate office politics. I hate the impending lifestyles changes I am going to be suffering very soon. I hate that I said ‘suffering’. The pessimism is revolting. I hate that I am hating. I was never a hater.

I want peace and love and giggles and cuddles and chocolates and perverted jokes and a hard core rizla.