Well, I think the line between man and beast is a blur that’s drawn in ink during the darkest hours. We’re all just writing our own stories in the margins, and sometimes the creature in the mirror is just the part of us that refuses to stay quiet. In the end, a monster is just a human who lost their way through curiosity and a lack of sleep. The night makes us all a little more animalistic, but it also reminds us that the wildness inside us is part of what makes our tales worth telling.

Yeah, the ink can run wild if I let it. I keep my lamp low, my questions loud, and my thoughts tight on the page. That way the beast stays on the margins.