There is a saying that when someone is struck down without warning that he "didn't know what hit him." It's a bit of a copout, providing the excuse that what happened wasn't the individual's fault at all. That it couldn't have been avoided and no one is to blame.Frankly, that's just a bunch of hokey horseshit.

And in the echo of that gladness, horror blooms within me. In its own strange way, it's a horror as deep as any I've experienced so far. I've succeeded in taking another human hostage, in making him urinate on himself. I made a plan to torture someone, and then I carried it out, and it satisfied me to do so. As much hurt and hell as the Wolfman has caused, I don't want to be his judge and jury, his jailer and tormentor. I don't want to be that person. I want to be good. I don't want to fall into a big, black pit of darkness, because what if I can't get out?

I write about the scariest monsters: The ones inside us all. And the ones that want to eat what is inside us all.

Death was a living creature. Death was a man tormented by his past. Death was once a human.

When we live with Integrity every word, thought and action springs from the Intelligence of the Heart and flows in harmony, enlightened by the pure light of Consciousness.

If it's to be, it's up to me.to which I add;If not now...then when?