Vampire. Dangerous. Unknowable. Seriously Creepy. This One's

At Least I Was True. My Intellectual Abilities Gave Me A Release, And An Excuse. I Shunned Company Because I Preferred Books; And The Dreams I Confided To My Father Were Of Becoming A Scholar In Good Earnest, And Going To University. It Was Unheard-of Several Shocked Governesses Were Only Too Quick To Tell Me, When I Spoke A Little Too Boldly -- But My Father Nodded And Smiled And Said, 'we'll See.' Since I Believed My Father Could Do Anything -- Except Of Course Make Me Pretty -- I Worked And Studied With Passionate Dedication, Lived In Hope, And Avoided Society And Mirrors.

...my Friend, There Are Some Things That I Cannot Tell You. Some I Will Tell You In Time; Some, Others Will Tell You; Some You May Never Know, Or You May Be The First To Find The Answers.

For Anyone Who Is: Just Keep Writing. Keep Reading. If You Are Meant To Be A Writer, A Storyteller, It'll Work Itself Out. You Just Keep Feeding It Your Energy, And Giving It That Crucial Chance To Work Itself Out. By Reading And Writing.

What Was New Was The Fact That, Despite My Heart Doing Its Fight-or-flight, Help-we're-prey-and-hey-stupid-that's-a-vampire Number, I Was Glad To See Him. Ridiculous But True. Scary But True.

Perhaps It Is A Human Thing, To Look Upon Such Beauty And Fail To Encompass It.