One day, I was sitting with one of my friends. ‘I hate my life,’ he cried
“Why am I living? I’m such a loser who just sleeps and eats.” He stated that and started comparing himself to a pan saying that it was better than him.
I wasn’t better than him back then. Maybe not even better than that pan as well. I hated my life also. I had different (and less extreme) ways to describe it, like “my life sucks.” But it’s still a form of hatred towards life in general and towards mine specifically.
What I’ve learned is that there are stages of hatred towards one’s life. Read More