Nonfiction - The look in my eye

I know what I want. Deep down, I think we all do, right? It's just working towards the goal, that can be frustrating.

So, on my worst days, when a cloud passes over my head, I have two options: Give in to the darkness and be foul, or channel it. Most of the time, I choose the latter.

I funnel my misery and rage into my hormones. I don't know if it's healthy, but I know it makes me feel better. And that's most important.

Then there are days like today, when the darkness threatens to overwhelm me. So, I take a deep breath, and find a picture or a memory or a fleeting thought. And once I find it, I grab hold, and don't let go.

Deep inside, I take the misery and I twist and molest it; Moments later, my head rises, and that smirk is back on my face. There's lust in my soul, and I want. And I crave.

It's that look in my eye. The one where I may be looking AT you, but I'm definitely seeing you naked, and thinking about doing a great many things to you.

This is the only good thing to come out of my misery. The energy forces me to become a predator. And you are the prey. I get smarter, faster, and hungrier.

... I just don't know if it's a good thing.

-- The Bastard.