I became inhuman. I would see children playing in the park. I don't remember being so naive. My cold dark eyes regarded them with more tolerance than I reserved for most of my species. The people that I saw in day to day life sickened me. But imagine, just imagine, if I truly had a mind to let myself off the leash! Heaven help thee.  I knew deep inside that what I saw in them was the same weakness I saw in myself. I told my stories. Once they dried up there was still  emptiness in residence...  like a dark vulture wheeling above my life.  I would fall down and weep... a torrent pouring out of me ; an ocean under my eyes. The undertow would tug at me, swept away ...  lost for all time. The evening was  red like someone skinned the sky. Life became more like a dream than reality. I walked in the woods to shake the mood. The branches were black and bare-- more dead than they should be. It seems that most of what I did was for naught. How do I explain years lived in twilight to people that live in daytime and hide from the dark? - Ozzie