Musings of Muggle Watchers

Muggles. Muggles walk around day after day trying to impress people with whatever they can to become better than what they are. So self-delusioned into thinking they're so important, and in some cases godly, because they are bigger and smarter than apes. They're actually not too far off from apes, really. Us wizards are the gods, and the Muggles are beneath us.

That is not to say that witches are lower than wizards. I know many witches who could pound a wizard into the ground with only a flick of their wrists and a word on their minds. However, I've never met a woman who didn't want to be a Death Eater who didn't want something from me. Money, fame, love...it's so sad, but whatever gets them to work for me, I guess it can't be that bad.

Love. Can you believe that people believe in love? They build their lives around being close and trusting somebody else. It's a wasted emotion, really, and the Muggles do nothing but play into the belief that you must love somebody and you must be close to somebody and you must devote half your life to trusting another human being with your thoughts, your emotions, your personal life. I see no point. Anybody can fake love, and anybody can betray you and blackmail you for the rest of your life. It's just...such a wasted existence to think only of love after a certain time on this planet. I think that if you become infatuated with another person, you should kill yourself, because you're destined to fail miserably and become tied up in things that will only bring you pain and suffering in the long run. But hey, to each their own.

Personally, I've never troubled myself with love. People used to ask me if the reason why I couldn't show love is because of my mother and father. This is something that did cross my mind a few times, I suppose, but not really knowing much about either of them put a damper on my thoughts. Of course, running either of them through my thoughts gives me migraines.

I'd hate to think of what kind of person I would be if my mother didn't die conceiving me and my father actually cared about me. My Muggle father was a filthy creature, and I blame my mother for being weak enough for falling for him. I guess that I must say that because of their love (whatever happened to it to cause my father to disown me I'll never know, nor do I want to know) that I exist, and I am grateful in that respect. But I do not extend my gratitude to them any further than that. I'm completely disappointed in the fact that they couldn't try hard enough, or find it in their hearts, to be in my life with me and I detest them for that. Some people would say that I'm a detestable person, but I must say that I like myself more than I like the ones who put me here. To me, this is just another reason to not fall in love.

Some of my companions think that, since I lived in a Muggle orphanage, that it is the reason why I am who I am and the reason why I don't love. This is just simply not the case, but however, it may prove a point. Some of my most beautiful works of art were done in the time spent growing up in the orphanage. For ten long years, I was God...then Dumbledore ruined it for me. I loved it. Nobody could match my sadism, and nobody did anything to try and hurt me. It was a good time, then.

But Dumbledore, he ruined it for me. Ha, Dumbledore. What a bloody Muggle-hugger he is. He loves all the little pitiful creatures that can't defend themselves. It's like the female Muggle's infatuation with fuzzy bunnies, kittens or puppies. It's a horrid mental disease, really. But yes, Dumbledore was, the only person who knew that I wasn't the sweet and gentle genius I put myself up to be. I have always hated him for not falling for my charm. Not that I blame him entirely; he knows too much about me. The trick is to keep them guessing, and Dumbledore never guessed about me.

He knew me too well.