I don't. You, however, don't even talk on voice even when it's actually possible. You're not only terrified of conflict, but of living. Crawl back into the damp, filthy hole you blindly wriggled out of. You see what you want to see because if you saw things as they are, the world would overtake you there and then, you'd try to let out some scream like the man in the Edvard Munch painting but only fluids would soundlessly drip out.
You don't even have the same personality type as Napoleon Bonaparte, Hannibal Leckter, and Dexter Morgan. You can go fuck yourself... oh wait, you already did that on the Fuck, Marry, Kill thread. Thank you very much.