I know what you think when you look at me, but reality lurks far beyond the myths you've created to fall asleep at night. There's no glamour in the deafening silence of centuries or in the weight of watching shitty empires crumble while my own image refuses to face the mirror, leaving only the echo of a hunger that never ceases, a constant burning in my throat that isolates me from sunlight and condemns me to observe the fragility of your mortal existence, knowing that the price of my eternity is to be the eternal predator of what I once also called life. LONG LIVE VAMPIRISM!!!