There was a club for haters. All the haters from all around had membership in the haters club. And the haters all had an evil vibe or no vibe at all and they also had a bad smell that went along with their vibe or no vibe at all. They had no vibe at all because they were dead inside. AB said where the soul's print should be there was only a cellulose pouch of disgusting habits.
Their hatred was usually based on jealousy and envy. The haters never hated their enemies but their friends. The haters were so sick they loved their enemy but hated their friends. No matter how often their enemies crushed them into dust, the haters preferred to be with them rather than with their friends who loved them.
Yes, the haters were sick puppies and beyond redemption. They would never grow into dogs because hatred stunted their growth. The worst part of the haters was not jealousy and envy but their behavior as busters. Yes, their hatred made them want to bust up their friends good fortune. The haters could have good fortune too but consumed their time hating. When told it takes the same energy to hate as to love, they laughed, because their addiction to hatred was so deep they had no desire to jump out of the box into the land of love. They preferred to remain in the box of bitterness and wickedness, plotting and planning to bust their friends at every turn, making sure their friends would not obtain the good fortune due them as righteous people.
Membership in the haters club grew because times were so bad the people started hating themselves and loved to be around other members at the club house where hated came to socialize, to drink, wink and blink at each other and plot the downfall of those with good fortune. In the end the haters were like pigs who got drunk on their own slop. The haters drank their own vomit until they were consumed and overcome with their evil that developed into cancers of the worst kind.
--Marvin X
11/9/14
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