ahem.

At first I felt sorry for them.  They were hurt.  Hurt by people, and hurt by themselves.  When I looked at them my heart could somehow relate to their suffering.  When they cried I cried.  But after a while I didn't care that much anymore.  Then I began to hate them.  And hate the things they did and said.  I wanted to go away from them.  Then once I was alone I was happy again.  I didn't have to look at them, disgusting.  But now I hate myself.  I cannot look.  

It's not as bad as it sounds.