You're searching for even the slightest validation for your inexcusable actions, transient in both values and the physical realm, collecting conquests and usurpees like how one might collect trophies from animals they hunt, faces frozen in a false expression with unseeing glassy eyes as they are forever immortalised in your sick collection to be made a mockery of long after the passage of time takes it's toll on both the images and the subjects.
A calculated maliciousness disguised as an indecisive personality, you are a bottom-feeder grafting onto the bellies of whomever are blissfully unaware or trusting enough to swim by you; but your own is yellow as a summer's day is long; not from just cowardliness, no, but from **** (sans the vinegar), and I wish I could compose this prose into something a little less hateful and a little more tasteful, but I won't spare you another second of my time, I'll erase you from my mind.