Laser Beams of Ire

OK, I've established the fact that I don't like anybody but I want them to love me. In my opinion I've made a compelling case, with airtight logic and a simplicity born of an almost otherworldly intelligence, common sense, and insight. The general population is highly flawed and patently offensive, justifying my distaste. Other than that, they're OK. They just need to make some improvements.

Unfortunately, the vigor with which I pursue my vendetta against my fellow man almost always slops over into my own personal space, which is where it becomes a real problem. It is, as I hope I have made clear, all about me. The emotional energy that I expend shooting laser beams of ire against mankind ends up bouncing off some kind of force field and hitting me right in the eye.

I can't dislike people. It isn't right and it isn't fair. Everybody is fine, doing the best they can to maneuver through the minefield that's life. Just because I manage to get through a couple of days without stumbling onto a buried explosive -- despite my best efforts to detonate every bomb within a hundred miles of my current location -- doesn't mean that I know what I'm doing.

Clearly, I don't know what I'm doing.