You always create your own problems. Life that is meant to be simple seems like a fantasy to me, for that simplicity quickly turns into ill-mannered glamour. You throw away your parents' love, but are still given that new Mercedes because everything else is far from perfect. Eventually, your fairy tale will crumble on top of you. Trapped under the weight of being forced to put on a crown—a crown of leadership and independence. Never again allowed to act childish or selfish. Good luck finding a group of peasants to worship you like the god you think you are.