My many years of practising my dark art has made me most familiar with the injection of resolve that comes with the first of January. You have dusted away the embers of the dying year and have sought to erase the pain and humiliation that marred much of the passing year of your life. The abuse, the denigration and the savage treatment you have been the victim of will loom large in the mind but you have found a spark of strength from somewhere, there is the flickering flame of optimism that has begun to burn inside of you. You declare that you will not allow our toxic breath to blow this flame out. We will not extinguish it with a smothering boot or the application of freezing cold water to your plans. This time it will be different. All this hope. All this optimism. I can almost taste it.
As one can detect a change in the air with the change of seasons so it is the same with the arrival of a New Year. The empath emerges from his or her slumber and stretches, keen to really shine in the year ahead and to find their self once more. They are keen to cast aside the poisonous cloak that was draped around them, lift the crown of thorns and strip away the clinging tendrils. Such enthusiasm is most laudable. Guess what? You are not the only ones. This year my reach shall be extended and my charm magnified. My sweet, sweet words of seduction shall fall with practised ease upon the willing ears of the supplicants that I have selected. My dark eyes will fix on the appliances that line-up, brimming with that potent fuel. So many appliances to connect to, so much fuel that must be harvested. I will ensure that this year my fuel will be the best I have ever known, I shall soar to new achievements and have eyes shining with admiration every where I go. My foes will lie crushed beneath my booted feet, the cloven hooves concealed from their broken gaze as I breach new boundaries, violate new pastures and conquer fresh virgin territory. Your hope and dedication only serves to spur me on to achieve even greater things in this year ahead.
For every promise of progress that you all make rest assured that I am doubling up on my manipulative strength. When you swear you will break free, I pledge that I will imprison. Every time you assert your desire to escape from my grip, I will tighten it further. You seek to shine a light in your attempt to be a beacon of hope. I will appear and snuff out those beams of light with the malice that surrounds me.
You can exist without having to place your arms around the world. I cannot exist without my fuel. You have a choice. I have none. I am destined to walk this earth forever in my unceasing quest for fuel. Whilst you take delight and solace in so many things, I am beholden to my task of securing fuel from so many that I encounter. They say that after toil comes rest ; not for me and my kind.
So, make those resolutions, dust off your pledges and polish up your good intentions. It is a New Year and the battle for new prey has just been joined.

