Irony

I hate when I get like this. I hate how the only time I want to blog is when I'm feeling depressed. I hate how complicated my life is. I hate how easily my heart is attached. I hate facebook. I hate how I over analyze everything. I hate that I over think everything. I hate that I blow everything up and make a big deal out of nothing. I hate how much I complain. I hate being stressed. I hate how lazy I am. I hate that I have no self-discipline. I hate that I always want to be in control of everything. I hate not being able to understand myself. I hate not being able to understand you. I hate how tired I always am. I hate that I can never put my thoughts into words. I hate how easily frustrated I am. I hate that I am so indecisive. I hate that I cannot accept reality. I hate that must always question everything. I hate that I hate so much. I hate that everything always works out. I hate that I want to cry. I hate that I am so ridiculously pitiful. I hate that I am depressing myself more by listing all the things I hate. I hate that anyone who might read this is going to be concerned, even though they shouldn't be. I hate how ironic life is, because everything that I hate, I would never want to change and I am so immensely grateful for everything that has shaped me into who I am. I hate how everything that I hate, I love.