**Theme: The Life of a Werewolf Trapped in His Own Body**
Ah, the exciting life of a werewolf! Those majestic creatures that transform into ravenous beasts on full moon nights. Have you ever thought about the pressure a werewolf faces? It's like waking up one day and discovering that, instead of paying your bills on time, you've turned into a furry version of Hulk, deciding whether it's more advantageous to break the office desk or simply destroy the neighborhood. How wonderful!
Just imagine: there you are, in peak hispo (or should I say hyspo?) form, thinking, "Well, today I'm not only trying to feed myself, but also planning a 'Run for the Hills'-style migration." It's like we're talking about a wildlife representative in the midst of an identity crisis, looking for a warm coat while the ridiculously full moon makes you feel unhealthy desires to turn the first human you cross into mashed potatoes.
And here comes the irony: you'd need fingers to call someone. Now tell me, who's the genius who decided that a werewolf should have the practical skills of a dog looking for a bone and the ability to think like a human being? You end up trapped in a cosmic trap where the only skills you've acquired are eloquent growls and the insistence on sniffing every last blade of grass with the intensity of a conceptual artist trying to find the meaning of life.
And how about your explosion of feelings when you realize that your only 'trump card' is an emergency clothing kit strapped to your hip? As if that would solve the fact that if you try to transform now, the only thing that will result from this supernatural ability is you, frozen and furry, dismembering yourself in the streets like a a fashionista iceman!
The poor humans you choose not to devour or terrorize, the 'Map People', are the definition of evolutionary wanderers: incapable of comprehending that their lives are an atmospheric soap opera with plot twists at every turn. Meanwhile, you make your little cautious trek to the convenient Speedway, because, of course, you can't go to a wolf's fast food bookstore and demand vegan options.
And in the end, the real shame of it all is that, as much as you are a monster of darkness, deep down, you just want to survive. Survive to go home, pour yourself a glass of wine (or a whiskey, at this point in your life) and wonder where you got lost in the transformation from being a feared predator to becoming just another living being trying not to freeze in the pants you forgot to pack when you moved.
So here's a message to all the givers and the woods: before you go out like a werewolf in search of adventure, always remember to check your footnotes and make sure your diary is up to date. Who knows? If you're smart enough, maybe you'll just be able to stay warm after all and not end up as a snack in some local's refrigerator. Now, who wants a bunch of bananas?