In Edimburgh I found a bit of peace in my existential crisisTM of 2019. One walks around in Edimburgh and understands how JK Rowling could think of the world of hp over there. A million fuck ups later, I hate JK Rowling. I hate that she is the worst villain hp could ever have, and yet I love the world she created. I hate harry potter as a concept, because I hate that it turned out to be a brand, I hate that shops charge you euros and euros just because when you saw a movie or read a book you felt something. I hate that the biggest fan of harry potter is the one with the hugest amount of posters, funko pops, or slytherin merch. I hate that the story is this bland social critique, I hate that goblins are this antisemitic concept, I hate that slavery is this reinforced concept, as I hate all the pink wash going on with dumbledore and how the only cannon gay mention is an insult, I hate how white it is, and I hate how much more liberal it gets as time passes. I hate it so f*cking much. And yet I hate it so much because this whole world, all the characters, the story, is such a big part of me, that I cant just ignore the fact that it is as ruined as it is. And that doesn’t mean I dont love it. Because, bloody hell, I love it. I love what we have done with the characters, how we know that sirius and remus were very much in love, how we hate snape and dumbledore. I love the muppets, and the musical, and the fandom, I love that being a ravenclaw is such a big part of my personality, and I love those books, because they are so much more than what jk rowling wrote. we all read those books, we all talked about them, and we felt that stuff, and we kept going so much further than jk rowling will ever reach. harry potter is part of my identity, and that makes me hate it and love it at the same time, and it is a contradiction, but it is true.