You will hate me for this post. Go ahead. Start hating me now. Why read it? It won't be pleasant. I sweat in fear over writing this for the last several hours, thinking. I should write it. Then thinking, no, I shouldn't. I will get a lot of hate mail. Then thinking, well, I need to get used to hate mail, because the more vocal I become, the more haters I will gather. They're like popularity trophies. Then I thought, well, I'm stupid. Why should I say anything at all? Then I thought, no, I'm not stupid. What if what I think has value? What if I have something important to say? Why shouldn't I say it? Oh, it's the lack of confidence. It's been beaten into my head since I was little. I conveniently hid (hid? HIDE. I still hide.) behind this label of being an abuse victim. Hey, I can't openly talk about shit, because those bad assholes did bla-bla-bla to me... Awww, people would say, poor girl, we need to comfort her. Well, you know what, I need to ditch this and stop hiding. I'm doing it little by little, which is not an excuse, of course, but, hey, if I can't be ME, than how can you read what I write, how can you possibly be interested in anything I have to say if you don't even know who I am? Yeah. That got under my skin today. And I thought, well, fuck it. I will say what I think. And what I think is this.

I DON'T UNDERSTAND THE PREACHING OF DIVERSITY IN BOOKS.

HATE ME NOW. 

I will wait. Are you done hating me? No. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Still here? Amazing. Well, let me backpedal a bit.