Disgusting things are broken, unnatural manifestations of beauty in an otherwise beautiful world. If anything, isn’t it the symmetrical and the alluring that we must fear for their full mastery over chaos?
Disgusting things are defeated things.
With our fear comes the baleful regard we credit them with, the attention of our minds. They don’t deserve it, those weaklings. Promise ourselves not to look upon their world as we are walking, or they will all gather at the feet of our attention; no!
Trample them if we must, ignore them if we can.
One day, there shall be no screams, just a hollow silence, the memories of fear long dissolved into the flesh our feet. That day, we will be Masters of the Diseases, and their reckoning!