At one point, I'm sure. My parents fed me properly.

[ that was their mistake, of course. had they known, he's certain they would have left him in an alley somewhere, to die in infancy. but he isn't very fond of what ifs. ]

But you digress. The pleasure someone derives from eating a meal is nothing like feeling pure love. If I had to be honest, I'd say I pity you. Ah, but it's not as though I think I'm any better -- to be frank, I think even calling myself a "monster" would be too generous! Being repulsive refuse, lower than even a worm, as you've said -- being even worse than a nothing -- I've accepted it all!