I Hate the Human Race, But I Don’t Hate All Humans

There are days I want to scream. Days I feel so alien in this world that I wonder if I was ever meant to be part of this species at all.

Because if the human race is what we’ve become, then I want no part of it.

Let me be clear—I don’t hate all humans. I have loved deeply, laughed loudly, and wept over the kindness of strangers. I have seen courage that left me breathless. I’ve watched people hold each other up through unimaginable grief. I’ve known humans who shine so brightly they could blind the dark.

But the human race?
As a collective?
I can’t help but hate what we’ve done. Who we’ve become.

We Are Capable of Unimaginable Cruelty

We kill for land. We torture for power. We hurt children. We cage animals. We bomb cities.
We rape. We lie. We destroy. And then we go home, eat dinner, and sleep like nothing happened.

The worst part? Most of the world shrugs. We scroll past bloodshed. We forget the headlines by morning.
We’re not shocked anymore. We’re bored. What kind of species becomes bored of suffering?

We Worship Greed and Call It Progress

We poison the earth for profit. We build wealth on the backs of the poor and call it success. We cheer for billionaires while children beg for food. Everything’s for sale—morality, compassion, truth.
We smile through our hypocrisy and call it strategy.

We Are Addicted to Indifference

We see injustice and say, “It’s not my problem.” We see hate and choose silence. We see suffering and look away. And yet we post quotes about kindness and “being the change.” We donate a few bucks to a cause, share a reel, and pat ourselves on the back. It’s all performance. We care only until it becomes uncomfortable.

But Then… There Are People

And here’s where it all gets messy.
Because just when I’ve sworn off the world—someone does something beautiful.

Someone holds a stranger’s hand in the hospital waiting room. Someone stops their car to help an injured dog. Someone risks their life for someone else’s truth. Someone loves without condition.

And I’m reminded that there are humans—real, raw, radiant humans—who still feel. Who still care. Who still choose to love in a world that profits off hate. They don’t make the headlines. They don’t trend.

But they exist. And they are the only reason I haven’t walked away from the whole damn race.

The Truth Is, I’m Tired

Tired of pretending to be okay with how things are. Tired of watching good people suffer while monsters thrive. Tired of humanity failing again and again and again. But I’m not done. Not yet. Because while I hate what the human race has become… I still believe in humans.

So What Now?

I don’t know. Maybe I stay quiet and create pockets of peace wherever I can. Maybe I rage. Maybe I write. Maybe I love louder. Maybe I try to be one of the ones who gives someone else a reason not to hate the whole species.

Because maybe that’s all we’ve got left—each other. The ones who haven’t given up. The ones who still feel everything. The ones who still cry over news stories and ache for strangers and hold on to hope like it’s oxygen.

Maybe the human race isn’t worth saving. But some humans are.

And maybe—just maybe—that’s enough.