The definition of a monster is simple. Anything that is oppsing you. Especially in a potentially life-threatening way.

Take, for example, the little-known Noolom. It is a curious little fellow. Small, round torso. Low to the ground, on five legs that wrap around his body. Four eyes looking up at you. Teeth often bared, ready to attack at the first sign of trouble. Classically, the Noolom is a perfect example of a monster. It is a terrifying sight to behold, with the spit dripping from its aggressive mouth, its legs scuttling about as it moves quickly and silently.

Its dark hair covers its smooth body in a way that lends it to hiding in the dark. If you walk too close, it will leap out and snatch you away. Where does it take you? What does it do there? No one really knows for sure, as no one who has been taken has ever returned.

Yes, it is so easy to cast off the Noolom as a monster. From our perspective, it truly is.

However, let us take a moment to consider the Noolom as its own, sentient being. After all, do we not wish it would do the same for us?

The Noolom has been living here for thousands of years, if our fossil reading methods are to be believed. They live here in this mountainous region of a faraway planet; a planet we have only recently discovered.

Of course, we immediately sent out a science party. We must chart this world, and see what it has to offer. The atmostphere is decent, and we can survive there, as long as we sleep in specially modified chambers. During the day, we can live on the air itself, although it is quite cool and there is limited moisture.

So down to the planet we went. And when we first discovered this mountainous region, and the dreaded Noolom, we had found the apex predator of this planet, and we had to find a way to fight off this new monster.

And so we did. We fought hard against this new foe, killing any that we saw. It was tough going. As I said, they were quick and hard to see. But eventually, their numbers dwindled, and all the packs we found retreated further into the mountains. We did not give chase, however they would occasionally come out and find us, take us out, and drag us back to the mountains somewhere.

Well, colleagues, I am here to tell you what I have learned. I snuck into a Noolom's dwelling. And I observed them for over 30 hours, living off of stored food that I had brought.

So, what did I learn of these monsters? I learned that the most important thing to them is their bonds with one another. They all seemed high-strung until the last member of the pack returned for the night. They also cherish their food. It turns out that they eat this precious material that we had been mining from the foothills. We have been stealing their food.

I am sad to say that there was a bit of human leftover. But it was clear that they were not particularly interested. It looks as if they only eat human when they have no other food source. In other words, they eat us when we take their normal food. So any time a member of our party goes missing, it is our own fault.

What I have learned, colleagues, is that the Noolom is not a simple monster. It is a creature who cares about its pack and enjoys a good meal - much like a human. Who, then, is the real monster on this planet? The native creatures, living here for thousands of years, living off the land and enjoying the company of others? Or the invaders, who came into this foreign place, and began taking things which were not theirs, and killing anything in their way?

I will let you decide. In the meantime, I resign from this post. I will no longer take part in this abomination.

Great. Here we go again. Another one of those nights. They expect me to do all the work around here, how is that fair? I dance all night long, as bright and energetically as I can, and they pay me no attention. But if someone gets too close, now I'm the bad guy. It's my fault when things go wrong, even if they're the ones who started it. And they keep me so confined! I am never free! When I finally make it out, they take all my food away and starve me. Then I just have to wait around again until the next time that they decide I'm good enough to look at every once in a while.

On the flip side, some people are afraid of me. Won't even look at me, and sometimes even ask other people to get rid of me. Some thing I smell bad, those comments are hurtful. Others use my name as a verb for something bad happening. In reality, I've been here longer than all of them, I'm far older, and I will still be here when they are all gone. In fact, for years, I can remember being worshipped. I was the most important thing in their lives. Now, I'm seen as a novelty prop at the best of times, and a killer at the worst.

All I try to do is survive, just like any other energy. So what is so bad about fire?

It's too simple to say "I miss the way things used to be." But it's also too true to not say it. I used to go on adventures. There was an old sewage tunnel that went underneath my high school. I used to love going down there with friends. I used to have a relationship where we tried doing new things all the time. I used to write a lot (now have recently started again, so here I am). I used to enjoy driving, accelerating, taking turns maybe a little too fast. I used to enjoy playing music. I used to enjoy conversations with people that I didn't know.

Things have now changed. I don't know if it is a fact of getting older, but all of these things are gone now. No more adventures. No more new experiences. No more writing (but trying to start again!). No more joy rides. No more music. No more interesting people.

What has changed, other than my age? Sometimes, the drive is still there. Sometimes it isn't. I feel that everything has become too career-focused in this world. I have many coworkers who do their job, and then go home and think about their job, whether that's why they can do better, how much time off they'll get, how much money they make. There are so many other things in the world to focus on.

I miss how easy it was to have these exciting experiences. I am starting to renew my excitement with writing, which I picked up again just today. Hopefully some of these other excitements will come back, and will lead me back to the fun that I used to have before I was worried about if my alarm was set.

"Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings are the same story!"

"No they aren't."

"Yes they are! I can prove it to you!"

"No, they aren't, and I don't care about your argument."

This was a real life exchange that got me heated. It isn't about the argument, it's about the fact that this person (who is actually quite intelligent) would dismiss a potentially valid argument about two interesting pieces of fiction and their relationship, simply because they choose to not be swayed in another direction.

There is nothing worse for this country or this planet than people who are too set in their ways. I hate nothing more than the thought process "This is what I learned, so this is what I believe."

To imagine there is something out there is absurd.

Running over everything

Fingers always fidgeting

I've found that it's better to just let go

Time to start ignoring

Please, no more relying

The time has now come to join the herd

No more searching

We're all dying

Come on over and enjoy the flow

All of us laughing

Friends always visiting

Consider now as you leave the pack

Mind finally freeing

There's no more wanting

You are acting like quite the comedian

Feelings outreaching

Desires of longing

Stop adding things on top of our stack

They start falling

While we're still yawning

You're as relevant as a sane chameleon

Or we'll start cursing

So quit your taunting

The fog swept through the towering trees

And the wind blew her down onto her knees

Slowly, behind her he dropped his hand

As her tears poured down, drenching the sand

The slightest sliver of joy on his face

Shone through the moonlight’s serene grace

He uncocked the safety on his gun

And said “This is the revenge of everyone”

She cried still harder, begging for life

“Not after you tricked me, you horrible wife”

All that she’d done raced through her brain

As she looked at the sand that she had now stained

“I’m sorry!” she cried, “I didn’t mean to do it!”

But the man just laughed; he saw right through it

“You knew every second your doings were wrong

You now know that you don’t have very long.”

“All I can say is I really loved you.”

He laughed again, knowing that it wasn’t true

As he tightened his grip, her sobs got bigger

That was when the man pulled the trigger

Did you hear?

Our old friend is in the news.

I recognized him because he still wears those old shoes.

Did you know?

He ran away from home.

It turned out that he’d been locked up all alone.

Did you see?

That look was in his eyes.

Like no one had ever listened to his cries.

Did you ask?

What happened to him?

Or did you never care; were your feelings too slim?

Did you hear?

Our old friend did it again.

And from what they say he was completely zen.

Did you know?

Your love was his first.

I wish he would’ve known that it would be his worst.

Did you see?

What he did to that chick?

He said that by the tenth you don’t even get sick.

Did you ask?

If you should turn him in?

When you’re the latest reason he committed these sins?

Did you hear?