These are my thoughts on those of mortal blood + my experience living with amongst them:

frankly find humans to be unbearably boring and insignificant beings, I suppose one could even go as far as to call them....basic? Ha. Ha. Ha.
I simply cannot relate to their dullness, but leastwise it seems to be somewhat mutual, as they don't seem to fully comprehend my existence as well, going so far as to dismiss my polished nature as mere "eccentricisms" and question what they would deem to be my "quirks".......How Insulting! Besides, unlike them, I don’t feel the need to forge 'bonds' for I require no one else besides my faithful soulmate who takes care of my sick vessel when it overloads with my dark powers and who, himself, is also not of human blood but of vampiristic and sanguineous nature.

Something else we also diverge from is that I do not feel empathy in the slightest, as it is a foreign concept never once extended toward me. I see absolutely no purpose in facial expressions and unless one is looking forward to wrinkling up their already rotting flesh, I regard it as a waste of precious muscle work, I do not understand the horrid faces humans do to me and I will not care to participate in such frightening freakshow. I also cannot grasp the concept of gender as it is irrelevant to my kind. Humans cling to such trivial, silly worries that would seem laughable to me had it not offended my intellectual.

In reality, there are very few things that amuse and entertain me in here...One of the very few being transforming my doll parts into the perfect mannequin to model and dress up in all kinds of styles most humans seem to find strange - to which I am not surprised by, as they are not particularly known for being open-minded to the obscure. I love fashion very much and if my heart wasn't so frozen I would say it brings me joy. I have also found solace in the visual arts and companionship within my canvas, I dedicate my days on this earth to art. When I grasp a pen between my doll fingers, my flesh tempts my creative desires into a forbbiden dance that connects my physical body to my prisoned soul, ripping me away from the normalcy I so often disguise myself with, united in pure raw sex, birthing a ritual that rips away my masking veil and summons my one true self from the abyss it once hid on. I am who I am because of my art and my art simply exists for me to be.