All I’ve been able to do since watching The Silence of the Lambs today while my kids were napping and Red Dragon last weekend when they were away, is think about the mysterious mind of Dr. Hannibal Lector. He’s always on my mind, sometimes in the front like tonight, and at other times slinking around in the dark shadows and crevices. If ever there was a person that I would want to meet it would be him, don’t ask me why, it’s just an infatuation, or so I keep telling myself. I want to know how his mind works; after all I love his infectious mind games that he plays with the FBI agents and his psychiatrist, it keeps me wanting to know more and why they never really ask is beyond me. I’ve always had a thing for cannibals, and I guess that’s why I love vampires so much… they are so similar yet not so. I wish he had a journal to his mind, something tangible that I could read through, because then maybe I could find the answer to the one question I constantly ask my sick and twisted self: how was it that he became what he was?