I can't understand why my life would warrent discussion or gossip. My conquests and accomplishments are minimal. It's like some new false language I can't understand. Maybe I wasen't really listening. You see I don't speak for the sake of speaking. I speak from the heart. My words reveal me. That's why I have nothing to say to you. It's amusing that you concider yourself some great reward... Oh, so beautiful... So precious... astounding. And if I caused you distress in your life, it's because I've deemed yours worthless. I think nothing of chewing you up and spitting you out, because I concider you nothing. You always said you'd be there to pick me up when I fell down. Your out-streached hand, enclosed in mine, and I took you right down. I knew someday I wouldn't be there. I knew I'd kick you in the ass. I just couldn't stand to see you disrespect yourself; to destroy yourself and destroy me with you.