Blame.

I will marry the man who recognizes that I am dancing with the devil, and asks "May I cut in?"
I'm not sure if you realize how selfish I am Reader. I have a very thin regard for others feelings. Emotions are petty and inconsequential things. They are another nuisance of humanity, like giving birth and dying. I suppose it wouldn't matter anyway, how selfish I am I mean. In the end, we all admit to our finality and drop to our knees to beg for redemption for ourselves; not one another. If their is a God, to him, we are maggots. Both literally and figuratively. We are maggots that live, breathe, breed and die in our own feces, all the while whining and squirming as if there might be a possible escape. There never was. I will not say that death is a escape, because death is neither positive nor negative. Death begets only itself and it gives no explanation and it receives none. Possibly, it is the only self respecting act we do....but I won't dig in too deep, because like I said, death speaks for silence.

I want a personal glory, the gloating kind.