If I trapped you who cause me so much pain in a petri dish and pour on mercury and heat. What does that make me? How can I live with myself now you are gone. And I am left to dispose of the bodies environmentally. When toxic waste cannot be tolerated someone has to clean up. To clean up the mess. I am not a murderer. Yet you slew me like so much rubbish. I was not litter. Yet you swept me up and then put me down in the corner with a ball. I am not an idiot but you never asked me a question just gave me options. I am not your child. But you coddled me like a toddler who has just got a rattle. Rant over. See beginning.