Damn it. It’s the full moon again. This means that it’s time for another transition. It’s as if the transformation just took place last night. I don’t know if I can handle another transformation. It’s hard enough as it is. I never like change. Who does? If Mr. or Mrs. change for the better or worst is out there, I’d sure like to meet him or her.
It felt as though it was only last night that I ate everything under the sun, or should I say moon. I get these cravings for meat that my body’s just not use to: beef, pork, deer. Hell, even rabbit sounds good on my worst nights. Unfortunately, the desires of the belly aren’t the only cravings that my body has on these nights. For the pervert, yes, it’s one of a sexual nature. But that, I’m going to keep to myself. No one wants to hear about my cravings for whatever attention I can get when the moon is right. I will mention my desire for passion. When the moon’s out, something comes over me, and I feel like I want to break free from my flesh. Sometimes I wonder if I actually do come out of my day-to-day flesh into something more or less desirable. I just know that I wake up the next day remembering that I felt something the night before. I felt alive. I felt…something. This is much better than feeling nothing at all, which is what I feel when the sun’s out. Why do I hate the sun when there’s less light that the moon can bring? Then again, we’re not talking about any moon; we’re talking about a full moon. It’s a beast of it’s own. And a beast is what I feel like when it rises from it’s slumber. So what is this passion that I feel when the moon is out? What is this creature that I turn into? I don’t know. I ask myself that everyday when the sun makes it’s way to take this feeling away from me. Some would call it passion. Some may even call it life. I just say that it’s being alive.