I'm not a candle person. I don't own candles, if there's a blackout and my phone is dead I guess I'll just live and die in the dark, no biggie. That's not to say I don't enjoy candles, they set a nice mood to a room and I do enjoy playing with the melted wax, but that's the problem: I'm single and live alone so who am I setting a mood for; and I just make a mess and destroy the things. I'm better off without them.
The one time I - myself, the human being named me - have owned a candle is when my dad gave me a Krispy Kreme scented candle as a birthday gift. I can think of no scent more insidious, more cruel to give to a person than this. Fill your house with the sweet smell of glazed donuts and impending death! This candle is something you give to a person to either torment them, or fatten them up before you cook and eat them. For me it was the former, there was nowhere for me to get Krispy Kreme donuts at the time, so instead I just sat there craving them.
