I don't know... these days, hatred's all I have left. I'd say that because I see someone as an equal, doesn't mean that I'm going to let them live in my house. I'd also say that there should be more to compassion than cutting one's own legs off to show solidarity with short people. I'd say a lot of things - if I had the time (I do), and if I felt like wasting it (ehhhh....), and make no mistake, I would be wasting my time. Because, the thing about *saying* things, is that nobody's ever going to bother listening. Because in life there's winners and losers, and the winners and too busy winning, and the losers are just too damn upset, and they're plotting to get those guys, any day now. You're either the revenger, or you're going to be the revengee. And that's basically just the way it is, so there's no talking to any of them at the best of times. There's only talking at them, hoping to draw a crowd, so perchance later you might rile them up and hand out pitchforks; *get your revenge on*, proper style, good like last time. There are some days when I don't want to drink the vinegar, but often one doesn't get what one wants, especially when one lives in a universe of vinegar and what one wants is a minor degree of condiment variety; this too is just the way of things - and when I get denied something, I do the opposite of getting angry: I dance.