Novel & Cerita Why Do I Hate Repeating Myself

The sheer scale of such an atrocity was horrifying, yet my memory remained stubbornly, infuriatingly blank. If only I could remember. If only I thought to write it down, just like every other thing that I had written down. The irony of my meticulous nature, my obsession with documenting every detail of my repeated existence, was a cruel twist of fate. If only, alongside all those other equations, all those observations, I had remembered to itemize the reason for this stupid curse…maybe…just maybe…I would have had a clue as to why this was happening. The weight of my oversight pressed down on me, heaping with it, the burden of self-hatred.

I wasn't a malicious person by nature, I was surprised that I had this much malice within me. But now I knew that deep down, all I really wanted was an apology of any form. It didn't have to be direct, it didn't have to be the words “I'm sorry” but it had to make me know, make me feel relieved and safe. It had to assure me that what had happened would never repeat itself. But most of all, I realized that the person I most hated was myself. For a long time I had slowly begun to hate myself, I hated the fact that I was weak, I hated the fact that I was pathetic. I just wanted to be loved.

Why do I even exist up to this point? Speaking of wishing I shouldn't have existed, something like "hating yourself" is just too cliche these days. You know, the thing some people just put out into the world because they want to share their self-hatred and the rest do it just to get attention? Like how people can confidently tweet how ugly they are and don't want the face they own, but they have no choice but to suffer in it. Then their followers decided to butt in and say, "No, you're so pretty~" or attack with reverse "hating-yourself" like "No~ You pretty, me ugly bleegh" or some shit. In my case, no one has ever disagreed with every negative thing I said about myself. I guess that's what

"You claim to hate me and wish I never existed, so why brush off the opportunity when it presented itself?" Sean was hesitant as he intently stared into her soul through her eyes. "Don't get any ideas. I hate you, stands firm. I did not 'brush off' anything. Anything meaningful, at least. So that was no opportunity. Those twats hadn't plans of executing a job well done, I hate pussies. And well, the opportunity now becomes mine and mine alone. Your life is in the palm of my hand. It's my place to do whatever I want with it, no one else's!"

By Friday, I was exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. Every hallway, every glance, every text had worn me down. I told myself I hated him. I repeated it over and over in my head like a mantra. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t true. Not entirely.

I slide onto the bed, cover my computer, and pull the comforter over my head. I hate him. I whisper to myself, a reminder, so I don't forget it next time. Once again, I ignore the echo of my own words in my head. I do so because they don't mirror what I just said. I hate him. I mouth more fiercely. Again, it echoes in my head, and it's not what I just said. I toss and stare at the door, squeeze my eyes, and whisper those words again. Only this time it's not my voice that echoes in my head. It's his. And it makes my skin crawl. With rage. With disdain. Because that's all it can be. That's all it will be. Hate. Aiden. Nothing else. Ever.

your idea in any place, when you are alone you are hit stronger by smoother vibrations. That’s the speech on which rests belief but you are not born to follow any. So, work on it till you perfect this route to research. Half a dozen disputes in mind, how will you think or know new? Free yourself, then think of heights, that’s life too for you, for me, for any scientist, in any place, in any way. Question self, get answer from self, talk to self as a super critic. Improve your mind’s inbuilt, you excel. To excel is your only role. Come on now celebrate your research. You be you always. Do not copy, do not read to think or ponder the same but read the same to think different. Difference is yo

I hate you, because I hurt you. I hate you, because you give me the access to hurt you. I hate myself more, because I hate you so much to hurt you. I hate you, because you make me hate myself for hating you so much to hurt you. I hate you, because anger is everywhere, It owns me, runs through every of my damn cells whenever ever we cross paths. Why? Because you give me mixed feelings. I hate you, yet you're everywhere.

"You know I just hate so many things. Uninvited guests barging into my personal bubble? Yeah, that's one of them. Oh, and repeating myself is right up there too!" "Ah. Here we go again! Mr. High and Mighty with his CEO charm! Do you really think that will work on me?" "Let me make it crystal clear. I'm only saying this because you made me say it twice already," Ethan's face becomes as serious as a penguin in a tuxedo, as a cherry on top the ravenette makes sure his voice sounds like a werewolf with sore throat, "I will tell you one last time. If I have to repeat myself, things are going to get really ugly. So, scram!"

I whispered to myself. I should take it easy now. I am starting to over think again for which I really hate it. I really want to slap myself right now because it doesn’t really do me good. Overthinking seems to be my sister for a long time now, I want to disown it to my family in my head!