I’ve always been in love with the moon, in all its forms. But I’m particularly attached to its crescent and full forms; they’re always just too pretty. I guess in a sense I am a lunatic, that I am sort of obsessed with its eternally changing face. I remember when I was undergoing that inhumane process of puberty I attributed the mood swings to the phases of the moon. Silly, I know, but I felt that much connected to it. And then came in the werewolf phase; I didn’t figure myself to be one, mind you, but I was semi-obsessed…