Shame... what a horiffic thing. It grips like an iron claw, cuts open your gut and strangles you by punching your heart until it swells into your wind pipe. Then you look it in the face and see the faces looking back. Shame's power lives in the other. The other's evaluative power. The other who can't know my motives and will use their sight to define the worth, health or impurity of my being.