sometimes i feel like i will rot in my jealousy and my provocations. like a child playing in dung, i rise, all stained, always, which is no surprise. what more could yo expect from somewhere who grovels and stoops so low as to be jealous of others, while she herself is the bearer of the most charms?
often i feel like jealousy is my most theatrical and consistent attribute, and what an attribute to have! not one at which others are jealous, but rather one that is wholly despised and connived. so is sit in my harmonious state gritting my teeth about events which havent even happened!