I hunger.My master hasn’t let me feed. Down deep in my soul I hunger. When I hunger like this, the ancient language that runs in my thought process (I think in that language a lot) spills into my communication. Last night we were at a local store, and that point, I didn’t even care about shopping and when I opened my mouth to speak, that language was all I could speak. I stopped, regrouped, and tried again. That language, came out, then guttural sounds. Master smiled. He knows how I hunger; he is trying me, teaching me to deal with that deep ancient hunger. But all I can think about is when, oh, when will I get to feed. And heaven help who ever my master lets me feed on. I know he hungers as well. But he can control himself. Nothing short of his blood can supply me with enough energy now. I must center myself; protect myself. Even now, that language is overwhelming me, screaming in my head, my entire being reverberates with it. I feel dizzy with hunger. Maybe tonight when we go to darts he will let me feed on some of my friends (dirty, I know, but at this point, I don’t care.) Control that is my biggest enemy. I struggle with it. Well, struggle is not a strong enough word. Oh, I wish someone could hear what I hear. I must stop now….oh if only I could put this hunger, this language, aside.