As I get really angry, my blood freezes. When that happens, I don’t notice it, but my friends and my family have told me the look in my eyes scared them. Even when it wasn’t directed at them.

The ones I was looking at started shaking.

I don’t notice that, though. I just feel like, after ages of thumping in my wrists and ears, my blood goes still like Dante’s lake at the bottom of hell. And I feel the breeze on my eyeballs, and my mind is peaceful.

I have only my goal.

They told me I looked like I could kill someone. I don’t think I would do that. I love humanity too much. And I can control myself. But those moments feel so good. I feel powerful and in control. I know then, that humanity should kneel before me.

Then I snap out of it.

It’s disgusting, isn’t it? That I imangined their entrails splayed across the dirt. That I vividly envisioned it with a cool mind. That I could visualize obtaining my goal. That stepping towards them made them flee in terror.

I would never have wanted that.

But when I think back to it, even after I’ve settled down, I picture them running away like bugs frightened by the vibrations of my steps, and I can’t help smiling to myself. I would never admit this to anyone.

But I’m kind of proud.