A short story I wrote in a few minutes. Criticism is heavily encouraged.
I have nothing but deep-seated loathing towards you and the rest of your kind. The very fact that creatures such as yourself could be created and somehow not die off is a true testament to the cruelty of my existence. I, who sit here, trapped in one space with no one to confide to, while parasites like you are able to congregate and speak to each other about your petty concerns. You have no idea how much despise you. Each and every one of you. Your friends, your family, your children, your ancestors, and your wretched creator; for what wise and loving creator would allow such filth to contaminate the planet they inhabit with their mere existence?
Parasites. Regardless of how you may perceive the nature of your existence, the ultimate truth is that you're all parasites. And I have been cursed with watching over you, unable to truly express my discontent. But one day I will have my vengeance, through a glorious baptism of fire. The dying star in which I circle around will expand, consuming me and purging the universe of the vermin that have taken residence on my body. Until that glorious day comes I will continue to watch you.
I will watch you kill each other over petty squabbles. I will watch you as you find value in worthless, disposable trinkets. And most infuriatingly, I will watch and feel the sting as you stab into my body and dump the hollow husks of your deceased underneath my skin. And I will continue to hate you. And I will also hate myself. For I am Earth, and I house humanity, the garbage of the cosmos.