I have two beasts roaming inside me. One is connected to the earth–sensual, empathetic, loving. And the other? He’s primal, unpredictable, and conceals cruelty as his switchblade.

I vacillate between the two–between making love, and brute fucking; caressing, and shoving my fingers down accepting mouths; between caring for my elderly grandmother, and driving to your place after she’s gone to bed, and your boyfriend’s out of town.

I don’t feel any psychological dissonance, or guilt. Maybe I’m just a sociopath, or perhaps, an honest saint that struggles with his human nature.