Lemon.

I'm proud to say that I'm incredibly humble; that modesty is my M.O. and that I'm never one to make big claims or loud boasts. Or at least I don't try to...sometimes we can't resist but to let a bit of ego slip out once in a while. But in general, I don't let my head get swollen over my success, even though "success" comes to me as often as wax to an Italian woman's armpit does. Big talk needs to be backed up by big balls...I have a big mouth but all it ever does it wax lyrical over nothing and everything at once.

However, I've always wanted to be the cavalier, maverick jock who'd skirt the line between confidence and cockiness. The guy in school who'd you want to punch out if only because he had that "X-factor" (and I don't mean the mutant gene). He spoke his mind (which would've been really about himself), yet managed to cultivate such a following that nobody would mind his shortcomings because his ego overcame everything and made him infectious (not to say that I was a wallflower in school, but people usually shun the music/sci-fi geeks).

Is this some silent call to be popular? Maybe. Being modest is a two-edged sword; people might grow to like you, but at the same time accuse you of being a poseur. As you inch closer and closer to the promise of notoriety, don't forget not to step over bodies along the way that'll haunt you further on down the road.

Everyone wants respect...and a small favour from you to not escalate their feelings of inadequacy.

God. To be honest with you, I despise humility. Forcing yourself to hold your tongue after a massive score is probably the hardest thing you can do. But the sad truth is, out of everything you've done, there's probably one other person who's done one better. You're never going to be able to reach the top. So where's the use in passing a royal decree when you're not even the King?

No use. No use at all.