Rotting, rotten subhumanoids are among the most vile, repugnant creatures that never should've walked the planet. They glory in the very thought of your ruin because you embody just about everything and anything that defines and will ever define their dream self. Musca domestica (the common housefly) may be a pest, but at the least, its importance as decomposer is impeccable.
Frankly, it gets difficult to be a perpetual gradient topper, but it's something beautiful-, gentle-minded people in my circle perish without and thankfully are good at. I'm treating their dislike for the highly-lovable me, instead, as another decorative that only serves to underscore all talent and privilege with which I have been and am continually generously showered by the Powers-That-Be. Therapeutic.
I'm glad I got these slippers I'm wearing right now. They're green, air-light, and just give my feet a constant massage.
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