You're a failure.
"Me?
You sure…?
No one’s ever told me that before.
experiment…prototype…psychopath…parasite…delinquent…murderer…monster…demon chiiild…pervert…mmnn…creep…abomination…the harbinger of the end times…
…nnno, the last one is just what I call myself.
Everything about me is so immaculately disgusting, how could I be a failure?
I refuse to die, everything I touch…rots…all my behavior is a, symptom! Of the sadomasochist sickness that is my mind? Every word out of my mouth is an extended metaphor for an elaborate lie. And my soul, my personality, my hhheart thing…that’sss….that’s all a shapeless, empty, blueprint, to get this husk of a mechanical meat sacks whatever it CRAVES right now. Right now, and also always, I am purposeless and causeless, a twisted caricature of anything and everything that is genius anddd…potential anddd…beauty.
The greatest thing I have ever done - and ever will do - is destroy greatness!
All that…and I’ve failed? Failed…whom?
…You’re right. Henh. Henh. I have. I am. And there’s no escape. I AM A FAILURE! I’m a failure for the ages! I’m the greatest, most successful failure to ever LIVE! No one can ever match my absolute, undeniable FAILURE! It’s been a domino effect across generations of the might-have-been-messiahs of Wammy’s House Incorporated! It’s like they’re my own seeds. All the hopelessly sick little fucks being churned out of that place, suicide bombers, serial rapists, chronic masturbators, tax evaders. I started it all. I’m like Father Time. I’m like…their Daddy.
Daddy…Failure.
Oh God yeah.
I can’t wait until I’m dead. I can’t wait to see who succeeds me as the tumor on L’s legacy, and the tumor of the entire goddamn Earth.
Until then, though…I’m a humanitarian…and I can’t abandon my work."