A Balanced Manifesto Of Hate

I think hate is underrated or misused. Usually, hate points in the direction of clues about what a person fears becoming or what they want to possess or become. In that sense, it serves as a good map of human behavior. The more someone hates, the more fear presents itself. The more we understand our motivations and behaviors, the better we are able to control and overrule them.

But lately, when we hate, we don’t hold a mirror to it to examine why it’s happening. Instead, we just blindly hate—or worse, we forbid hate, treating it like something we shouldn’t feel. Yet, in this world, we can all admit that every emotion serves a purpose, as long as it’s felt in balance. Repressing emotions is probably why you’re reading this right now, nodding along, or feeling some inflammation in your throat, ready to burst into anger, tears, or laughter. Or maybe you just feel bored or nothing at all, craving a distraction.

Bear with me—this list of things I hate is created to better understand myself. It might also give you some ideas about who you are. When you put something on paper, most of the time you strip it of its power. So, let’s cure ourselves in a balanced manner.

This list isn’t final. It can change and evolve as I wish. If there’s something new to hate, I’ll add it here. If something is no longer worth hating, I’ll add it to a list at the end of things I don’t hate anymore. Behold the Balanced Manifesto of Hate:

To stay authentic, I have to start with the idea that inspired this list:

YouTubers who hold small microphones

I fucking hate this trend. Most of the hate comes from seeing through this bullshit. They’re all copy-pasting each other, thinking it looks cool or that it will make them more successful. They buy these small microphones and hold them like tiny tea glasses. The sheer pretentiousness makes my atoms squeeze painfully in my abdomen. If I see someone holding a microphone like that, I’m not watching.

Okay, maybe it suits you. Maybe it makes you feel more important, stable, or creative. But for me, it’s unbearable. Speaking of microphones...

Comedians who move the microphone stand behind them when they get on stage

This isn’t a second-place ranking—this isn’t a Billboard Top 100. At some point, I might invent a system for ranking these things, but for now, know this: I hate most things here on the same level.

A long time ago, I heard a comedian—maybe Bill Burr or Dave Chappelle—say that moving the microphone stand behind you when you go on stage is a trick to gain the audience’s respect. Ever since, the second I see someone pull this shit, they lose all my respect. Most of the time, I turn off the performance or switch to something else.

I don’t know if it’s just the curse of looking behind the curtain and seeing how the sausage is made, but it breeds resentment and disrespect in me every time, but let's go back to...

YouTube reaction channels with shocked faces in every thumbnail

Those bastards. You have to be a special kind of person to make a thumbnail with your shocked face for every single video. Trying to convince me that what you just watched is OMG amazing strips the content of its fun.

Don’t get me wrong—I watch those bastards. Sometimes I like connecting with them. But reacting in front of a camera adds an extra layer of assholery to normal behavior. Some days, it’s repulsive. Other days, it’s tolerable.

That said, some channels bring comedic or informative value to their reactions. Channels like Struggle Nation, The Reel Rejects, or Grace Randolph from Beyond the Trailer add depth because of their knowledge of the topics, which allows them to be funny. Then there’s Ajay Deluxe, who has a comedic presence that makes the reaction more entertaining. But most of you and your thumbnails can suck it.

Musicians Who Disrespect Their Own Legacy & Fans

One thing I discovered I hate passionately is musicians who don’t play their biggest hit. I actually don’t care if it’s because they want to move on from it and show the public they have other music, or for some other reason.

This week, I went to a concert of an artist who has one really, really big song. A song that changed my life, shaped it, moved it, and will probably be part of my life’s soundtrack for the rest of my life—although, after Friday, that song’s position could be in danger. I’ve heard some of his other songs, and to be fair, they didn’t stick the landing like the one I was hoping to hear.

To be honest, the whole concert was surprisingly incredible—the artist’s voice was amazing, the band was on point—but as the end approached, I got scared he might do it, which prevented me from enjoying the last 5 songs the way I should have. The band disappeared, and the whole crowd started to scream and applaud to bring them back, which is another thing I hate (but that’s for another time). Some people in the audience even screamed the name of the song that brought us there.

The band came back and performed two more songs, giving the biggest “fuck you” to the audience by not performing the song we all came for. For most people, I assume it was that song that brought us there—I’m pretty sure it was.

I was ready to buy the vinyls right there at the merch stand, sealing a beautiful memory, to become an even bigger fan because the fucking concert was incredible. And then this motherfucker decided to dismiss his biggest hit and the audience's wishes, and disappear. To be able to say “fuck you” so loudly with such a creative approach was brave, I’ll give them that. But from now on, this idiot bastard doesn’t exist to me. I’m not even mentioning his name. Usually, I review concerts and music, and this son of a bitch had good reviews coming his way. 

Now, he can rot for all I care. 

Wow, that was harsh even for me, but yeah, I think this idiot killed the magic and removed me from the fandom with one decision. What else removes me?

People who don’t give a seat to elders

Respect Isn’t on the Train Schedule. Boy, this is unbelievable—and it’s unbelievable how common it is in Germany. The other day, coming back from that shit concert, the train was full. A visibly pained grandma, who had just made space for her husband in a wheelchair spot, was hardcore ignored by this  girl burying herself in a book, and a couple of crackers who spent the whole trip kissing and smooching. Right next to us was a lady with her daughter, who saw me getting angry and decided to give up her seat a minute before her station.

The girl hiding behind her book to avoid standing for an elder in pain can suck it. And the couple? So disrespectful that the trashy girl even propped her feet up on the train wall. What’s happening in Germany that so many little shitheads are blind to the existence of others? A basic upbringing teaches you to respect elders and try to make their lives a little easier.

When I realized the woman with the child was about to get up, I asked the grandma to take her seat as soon as it became free. She thanked me with one word, but in that word was the tension of an hour standing, finally relieved. It sounded like a cry that was finally answered. Germany, you have to do better.

The Rush of Idiocy: People who push to get inside the train while others are still exiting

It seems like common sense to let people out first, giving them space so it can all move faster. But no. Here in Germany, two directions clash head-on every time I take a train or U-Bahn. Why is it so hard to understand that letting others out first will actually get you inside faster?

It’s about more than speed, though—it’s about acknowledging that the person in front of you isn’t just an obstacle in your way. And it’s not just kids, and it’s not just Germans. But come on, grown-ups—grow up. It won’t kill you to stand for 15 minutes. Suck it up and show some civility.

This country should have produced way more Joker-like figures than it actually has.

Comment Section Clowns: People who leave annoying, repetitive comments on YouTube

How many international fans are here? Or my personal favorite to hate: I’ll watch this video for every like I get. Can you imagine this nonsense coming from so-called fans? Absolutely gay. And I usually hate homophobic gays, but these bastards? Posting the same comment under every video? They’ve become a new way to spark my diarrhea. 

Kissing Biceps

Can we agree that most of us watch porn, let's be real? Have you ever stumbled upon a guy kissing his biceps? I am pretty sure that if you travel around Bulgaria, you'll meet a lot of people who do that on a regular basis. And this thing is beyond stupidity. Did they practice their first kisses on their biceps, and now the memory and trauma just burst into our faces, like most trauma eventually does?

Should I go out, take the pillow, and show you my moves? 

But let's not witch-hunt the guys who kiss their biceps. Lately, I feel like my hate towards some cringey behaviors comes from a lack of empathy. So, I’ll proceed with caution and give these guys the love they deserve. And hey, if they want, I’ll kiss them biceps too, okay?

People Who Throw Their Garbage Everywhere

This type of person is just something else. I understand that in a country like Bulgaria, the powerful change required to throw the garbage you produce in the place you're supposed to is hard to imagine, but here in Germany, it’s scary to accept. Are we really that annoying, stupid, and blind to the people around us, lazy perhaps, that we can’t figure out a way to deal with our waste? And I am completely aware of the fact that the need to see clean streets is typical selfish behavior, communicating the arrogance of wanting a clean environment in front of our houses. So, what? Is that something so bad to want, even if it’s selfish?

There are apps in Germany now that allow you to report where garbage is thrown, making it easier for authorities to act and keep our streets clean. It’s a small but effective step to ensure that our environment stays cleaner.

Smokers (the Players & the Game)

I’m an ex-smoker with many addictions behind me. It’s a fight—I get it. But when did smokers receive permission to throw their leftovers wherever they want? Who gave them the right to poison others around them without any sense or sensibility whatsoever? What is it about smokers that gives them the approval to go out and do whatever they want?

I have to admit, my poor judgment and my poor upbringing allowed me, for some time, to do exactly that. I absolutely hate this habit. I was able to break this cycle by reading one of my favorite books, The Easy Way to Stop Smoking by Allen Carr, who literally created a method for us to end this misery. I know people who didn’t stop after they read the book but still continue to poison themselves and the people around them or throw their cigarettes on the ground.

Check my review of the book here; if you need to quit smoking, like I feel every smoker feels at some point, go check it out. It’s an easy read, easily accessible, with around a 90% success rate. Life without cigarettes is much more enjoyable.

So, guys, I’m sorry that I have to put such a gigantic part of people here, but have you ever stopped smoking and then smelled someone who does? Ever had someone try to kiss you after smoking a cigarette, and you’re dodging and maneuvering to escape the smell, or holding your breath because it’s poison?

The worst thing about living in a city is the bad air. These damn cars—we need them, I get it—but when you try to walk somewhere, and you feel not only the bad emissions but also the smoke from the smoker in front of you, it’s blasphemy. It’s wrong, and you know it.

There is this belief that you will suffer the minute you decide to stop, and there is a huge negative connotation around the act of quitting. The minute I stopped smoking—and I had tried to quit many times before—I felt better. This time, I knew I had it in me. I needed to understand how much better my life would be as soon as I stopped inhaling smoke. I even created a habit of inhaling fresh air as if it’s my new cigarette. That habit allowed me to open my lungs and enjoy the simple, vital act of breathing while absolutely destroying the need to suffocate with a fucking cigarette.

I should be more proud of myself, and occasionally I just stop and think about how determined I was and how much I tried until I finally pierced the nasty grip of smoking. And now, after a couple of years without a cigarette—with occasional joints without any tobacco in them—I feel proud, strong. I finished my second half-marathon this year, and now I am planning another one in February and another in October next year. Those things were unbelievable to imagine. Now, one by one, I just own them.

We should be able to live without these things. I am at that level—two-plus years after quitting—where I absolutely hate smoking. Nevertheless, I never even for a second let my guard down. It always feels like if I smoke a cigarette, I’ll be smoking two packs a day the same day.

So excuse me when I say I hate being a passive smoker around someone and this nonchalant behavior of the smokers. And yeah, the smoke always goes in the direction of the non-smoker. This is the law of the universe.

Golf Fails

Is there anything more boring than watching a Failarmy video, only to have half of the fails be from some golf idiots who completely mess up and then look back at the camera like, "Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have done that"? Every time I see a golf fail mixed in with clips of people cracking their skulls, cars landing in pools, and kids getting hit by their dads' drones, I feel like I’m about to explode. There was only one golf fail I remember vaguely where I thought, "Okay, that was funny," but honestly, that’s literally one in a million. It’s like the entire golf community decided to flood fail YouTube channels, hoping no one would notice how desperately unfunny their attempts are. I hate them. That’s it.

Homo-, Trans- & Phobic Gays in General

Usually, the biggest cock suckers are hiding behind their own hate. The people who seem confident, or those who are open and experimental, don’t typically harbor hate towards something like love between men. The loudest voices are often those afraid of being discovered for who they really are. They feel the need to announce to the world that they’re nothing like that, all to cover their tracks—but lately, it’s becoming too obvious.

Growing up as a gay person, you develop a kind of "gaydar" that goes Beep-beep-beep when you see someone acting aggressively. I get it—there's a whole storm of emotions bottled up inside. Never allowing yourself to express those feelings can cause harm to your soul, and in the end, you might become the very thing that oppressed you in the first place.

Gays are so incredibly cool. Of course, we have our rotten apples, but our peaches are running the world. Who runs the world? Gays. Half of us are extremely democratic and open-minded, while the other half are still stuck in the closet, filled with self-hate. Not only do they ruin their own lives, but they also affect the lives of the younger generation, who still face the weight of not being accepted. I hate that.

It’s a path we all have to take. I myself had the bad habit of hating on other gays, right up until I realized how foolish it was to hate without ever giving someone a chance. Whenever someone says they hate trans people, I think, "Oh, so you're afraid you might like it, and you're not sure how to deal with that."

As Joe Rogan once said, "The people who oppose gay marriage are either ignorant or secretly worried that cocks are delicious."

Mixing My Words

I still cringe every time I remember saying "sactification" (уледотворение) to my ex-boss. She had never heard that word before, and I was convinced—probably for most of my life—that it was the correct way to say it. The look on her face when she realized I was serious about how "satisfaction" (удовлетворение) should sound still haunts me. Years later, the memory of that moment resurfaces, robbing me of sleep or any chance of a calm morning once again today.

Heath Ledger's Joker Performance

I'll give it another try, I promise. At some point, I will try to understand what was so special about it, but right now, especially after yesterday when one douchebag reminded me of this performance, I have to include it here. I hated Ledger's mannerisms and movements. His tongue sticking out took me out of the movie so many times that I found myself repulsed—not by the Joker, but by that choice, and that was a choice. Don't get me wrong, I like Ledger, especially in Brokeback Mountain. Boy, I am such a gay—look at me hating on the most straight movie ever, praising these iconic heteros going at it in a tent for 5 seconds.

Anyway, at some point, I will try to watch it again to make sense of this and overcome this initial feeling that stuck with me for years. But for now, I am welcoming this iconic Joker into the hall of hate. Also, those Jokers that are catfishing or too offended by a joke can suck it.

The Marketing of It All

Yesterday, eager to try something new, my old habits and expectations got the best of me. Due to my brain power trying to predict what movie would be shown during the surprise projection this evening, I assumed I would see either Captain America: Brave New World or Companion, which is a horror movie from the creators of Barbarian. I was excited for either of those choices. Of course, there was a third option I considered—Paddington in Peru, another movie I welcomed because I had fun with the last two parts.

Unfortunately, my expectations didn’t predict shit, and I ended up watching an incredibly different and funny movie that made my Monday night great, new, and interesting. You might ask, “Where’s the problem? Why isn’t this in the Intentional Manifesto of Love & Gratitude instead of here?” Well, being me—the complex person with a detoxing mind—I can find a problem wherever I walk. So, I got annoyed with the fucking marketing trick of putting this incredibly funny and innovative movie before the release of the three movies I mentioned, just to subvert expectations and draw in the public.

Of course, there was an audience, and until the third part of the movie, we had so much fun. But I bet some people came with false expectations, thinking they were watching something else. That’s the charm of surprise showings, right? Well, it can easily turn negative if you’re not prepared for something like that—which I wasn’t, because this was my first time doing this. When you use the worldwide popularity of some blockbuster to bust your viewership, it could backfire, especially in cases like this.

Damn marketing. At least it got people to see this movie, which is actually unmarketable but made for a great, fun, interesting, and new night. Now I’m going back to the other Manifesto to explain how much I liked it and how proud I am for trying new stuff and opening myself to life.

I hate that I let my expectations kill any joy I obtain so profoundly. 

Oh, this is how you felt.

Now I understand how he felt the whole year while he was kissing me with that feral passion, saying he wanted nothing more. He acted just like me with the new guy. But I decided that I will not play his game.

The new guy is everything I was looking for in him but never found. And after destroying myself in that search—to the point of being colorless—I rose, as I so often do, like the little homo phoenix that I am. I came to understand what he felt about me, and I had to stop myself from doing the same thing to someone else.

Are words enough? I have to act on them. I hate that, most of the time, you have to experience something yourself in order to understand it. We have to go through the pain to build our character and our dreams.

Of course, this goddamn part will go in the other manifesto—there are some things I need to write about there too—but for now, I just want to express how much I hate the way he felt about me. The lack of more. The existence in between. The way he painted me.

The colors he took and left when he let me stand in front of his door, but after realizing I was me, he never opened it. Was that the one unselfish thing he did—saving me from going down that road again? Or do I tend to use too much white in my paintings?

I was a distraction from his real pain, and the moment I stopped being one, I became a reminder. So I had to be released. And in doing so, he gave me what I needed to overcome my problems, to sustain myself, and to evolve past this relationship—a word he would never use around me, at least not in the way I wanted.

And to be honest, I didn’t even want a relationship in the generic sense. I just wanted him to say that I mattered. Daily.

Is that too much, world?

I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. And now I am diabetic and fat.

I need to be more empathetic and compassionate—not just to others, but also to myself. 

I deserve to overcome my fears.

Ghosting

There are two men in my life that I cared for who disappeared, both giving me this trauma, hurting my self-esteem and my self-worth almost inevitably, just because they were afraid to say what they really thought. Being a liar is one thing, but lying to yourself is a whole special skill that addicts are particularly good at. To think this is power—leaving someone, never returning their calls, just because you can't face the truth—is what led me to write this small segment, also a breakthrough for me.

I know there is a reason those motherfuckers escaped—yeah, I said escaped—this is the hate manifesto. I am not the best company all the time, and usually, I have the tendency to become this dramatic child if I don’t get what I want, which I understand can be suffocating. Sometimes I strive to help someone by pointing out their weaknesses, which they are not ready to overturn. Sometimes I even try to help them in order to help myself, which I always assumed is a win-win situation, but it turns out it’s not.

Ghosting is what my parents did, and anytime someone else does it, I crumble into pain and loneliness, bashing myself, unable to understand why I am this way and what I can do better. That is the reason I try not to ghost. I try so hard, but I do it all the time. I push people away constantly because they always have ideas and visions of what I should be and how I should act, and that ends in disappointment. So I skip directly to disappointment. Then, when I defeat my ego and explain myself, when I talk with the people I’ve hurt, it is sort of a breakthrough—but you can still see the crack in that motherfucking reflection, honey B.

It is a vicious cycle. The toxicity released by ghosting creates this ripple effect that only care and tough love can replace. Showing up for someone and releasing them from your constant expectations of them. Jesus, I pushed those two away because I expected too much of them, and in the end, I was constantly disappointed, which made them retaliate. I should work on being more gentle with people and not expecting much from them. I hate that, but I will.

Leaving Your Engine Running

Let’s see what breakthrough lies here. First of all, the last sentence from the last segment can be transferred to any part of this manifesto—but let me hate a little before I get to healing.

When did the fucking air become so polluted that it’s hard to find clean air? When I left Sofia and went to the mountains, I hoped I’d never, ever let my lungs breathe those chemicals again. But here in Dortmund, lately, I have been experiencing it once more. Is it time to go again?

The other day, I went for flowers to the closest Aldi, and a guy was repairing his van—like the one in Breaking Bad. The heavy machine was pushing out of its ass tons of shit into the air, like 98 cigarettes lit up together or a small fire. I went to the supermarket, got myself flowers, went back home the same way—the guy was still there, the machine still running, diarrhea out of its Auspuff. It was unbelievable that this guy had no idea what was going on and what he was doing.

And this is to all the fuckers with cars who do that—where are you living? Do you have kids? Can you feel that the air is already unbreathable? Why are we doing this?

Yesterday, I went for a run, and as usual, I played an audiobook. It’s ironic that it was Focus by Daniel Goleman while I was running with my dog, trying to listen to a book and understand its meaning. I usually can, but it’s not good for creating a focused human being. But in the book, the author points out that humans cannot see complex systems and complex problems like global warming and react to them. The amygdala just doesn’t light up like when we see a danger right in front of us. Potential dangers do not trigger the necessary reaction to prevent future catastrophes.

This inability to see the big picture, the complex problems and systems, is what leads those motherfuckers to keep their stupid cars running all the time. I hate them, and I hate what they are doing. Which leads me to exclude bikers from this Manifesto and put them into the gratitude and love Manifesto. Bless those fuckers who ride a bike every day instead of their ugly-ass heavy machinery.

And here, I should put the last sentence from the last segment:

I should work on being more gentle with people and not expecting much from them. I hate that, but I will.

Gratitude in Someone Else's Struggle

Because of a friend's struggle, I realize that my appreciation for life itself emerges as a positive outcome, and lately, I have felt guilty that such a feeling arises whenever someone else is suffering. Thank God it's not me, right? Not in that way—but still, it brings conflicted thoughts.

A friend of mine's dog is suffering, and she is considering putting her dog down, which is heartbreaking. But while she was in pain, most of what I could think about was going home to hug my own dog, Bobi, kissing him and snuggling with him. And these conflicting feelings of gratitude arise precisely when I should be focused on my friend's pain—when she is going through something devastating and deserves my full attention.

Some years ago, I realized that the suffering of others gives me a twisted kind of comfort because, in their suffering, I see that I am not alone in mine. Pain became a connection between me and the world.

I'm not sure if I hate the positive outcome itself or rather the contradiction of emotions it creates.

***

This list isn’t complete—it’s a living, evolving document. I’ll keep adding to it as new things earn my disdain, and I’ll also include the things I’ve learned to let go of.

What about you? What are the things you hate that give you clues about yourself? Share your own list—maybe we’ll all find a little more balance by confronting what annoys us most.

Iliya Badev