Jealousy. I hate t o admit that part of me is happy when other people f*** up. I want to be the best. I want to be miss america. There really is no such thing as the BEST in the world. Every year there is a new Miss Universe, but we have no idea if there is some woman in rural Peru who actually meets every cultural aesthetic imaginable, or an eskimo who could put every Frank Sinatra, Whitney Huston and Maria Callas to shame. But there really is no such thing, because everyone has different ears and eyes and feelings and thoughts. So this whole "best" s a lot of bull. But still I want to be the best.
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