I hate people who stir up drama.

I hate having to deal with drama.

I hate not being able to deal with the drama directly, because of the intricate, deceitful and involved web of feelings that gets everyone entangled in it as soon as they come near it.

And I have a theory on why drama exists.

I feel there are two basic approaches to how one can deal with differences. In this example, someone is happy, the other person isn’t.

Approach #1 would be for the person who isn’t happy to find a way to be happy. A way to match the level of the other person, to come up to their state and thereby breach the gap. 

Approach #2 happens when approach #1 can’t. The reasons why #1 can’t happen are still things I ponder, but I theorize that they involve states of feeling in which considering oneself worthy of “elevating” to a higher state is unimaginable. Whether that is because of a lack of self-esteem and confusion or some sort of twisted pleasure being taken from the discomfort that being a douche generates in the propinquity, I am unsure.
Going back to my example, the unhappy person does whatever is possible to throw obstacles in the way of the happy person’s life.

That is a train of thought I can’t wrap my head around. Sure, some would say that the reason for that is because of my geodesic braincase, but I seriously can’t understand why one would submit to such negative and ill-fated strategery.
I would only focus so much energy on acting like such a twat if my goal was to take pride and joy in seeing others discomfort as they deal with all of my unwelcome path-shitting. Additionally, I would certainly be encouraged to double up my efforts as I find that my pathetic and puny obstacles are overcome in glory.
But why would let this vice consume me and define my life? Do I want to look back years later and realize that I could have focused on my own happiness? Do I want to realize that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t knock someone off their pedestal, because my infantile yelps were not heard because my target was too busy listening to the sweet melody of love all around him?

No. I don’t want that. And that’s why I can’t understand why one would choose to walk that path.

But there are those who do. And they bring overly complicated histrionics along, ready to pull in as many hebetudinous unaware thespians into their farce.

That is the drama that I hate. Those are the people who I hate. And they can eat a big fat dick.