Pow! Right in the Kisser!

Musings of a Melodramatic Furry

Moist Toilette
Bet that grabbed your attention, huh?

Kidding. I know that LJ is a ghost town nowadays. It almost makes me sad, but since I never post here anymore too, I guess I can count myself as part of the problem.

The community I've trained to enter, and am professionally prepared for, is not the community I wish to immerse myself, at least not at this moment. I'll probably look back at this in the future and laugh at my naivety, or remind myself that the warning signs were there.

I don't know if I should be more proactive and social to those outside of my home life, or if I need to completely isolate myself for a bit without my partner, my family, or friends, and see what kind of person I come out as. I've been writing music, drawing, and writing this year, and to good success (and some monetary gain). The second golden age of World of Warcraft is out in the form of a new expansion, an boy is it ever shiny. I've never felt or looked so attractive as I do now. So then why do I still deal with so much anxiety day-to-day? It's like I'm addicted to feeling tense.

Edit: As soon as I submitted this, I felt apologetic to anyone who would have to read it. This knee-jerk reaction is not new to me, so I should probably try fixing that first.

It's been eons, and I'm still here.

Anxiety and depression comes upon me in waves, and I am grateful to my parents who made me take swimming lessons when I was little, just so I could stay afloat. More and more, however, I feel myself treading water and not moving, treading water and starting to sink. The waves become choppier, and my feat turn into anchors. The water's getting above my chin.

If I really didn't want to live, I wouldn't be living right now. I don't want to die. Not at all. I just want to feel secure in my own sanctuaries again.

I promise I'm not always like this. It just seems like whenever I come back here to post, it's something a little sad. Just needed to get it out. Needed to warm up my fingers on my keyboard before they atrophy and go numb again.

I will feel so much ground under my feet next week, and I will breathe so many blessings into my pillow.

Time time time
School has been eating up my life right now. Between days that start in the morning and end late at night (every other day is 10-10 with minimal breaks), making time for my boyfriend (which I don't do begrudgingly, of course), and working on my writing and other personal projects, I've had barely a minute for anything furry-related.

That being said, I'm not gone. I haven't had time to post on anything, or to go to any meets since the summer, but I'm still here. I think about the community every day and am washed over by a warm glow-is it nostalgia?- that ripples through me and makes me miss it even more.

I miss Fritz. I hope to bring him back soon enough. Probably when the show I'm working on ends in November. Perhaps!

July 28th, 2012
No sleep. Just fear. And loathing. I feel so helpless and trapped in my body right now. So confined to mediocrity. My feet are dragging me down and I don't have the energy tonight to try walking anymore and I know I'm being petty and selfish but I just want the confidence to wear sandals and tank tops and not stare at my hands and lips all day for fears of unknown nonexistent blemishes.

I almost want to stay home and not go to the cottage. I'm getting closer to that decision every minute I can't sleep.

I expect perfection from myself, but I've stagnated and become diseased with such typical, topical, common things. I'm so common.

No sleep.

I should shower.
Hrrrngh. Just got back from my ninjutsu class in lovely, humid Toronto. Needless to say that I am in need of a shower. Or ice cream. Or both. At the same time.


Basically my boyfriend has moved into my apartment for the summer while he's waiting to get into his new place. It worked out because A) we want to spend our summer together anyways so it just simplifies things B) he's busy with summer school down the road so it saves him a two hour commute and C) I want to be in my apartment anyways but I was all alone and don't know how to cook.

Well, I can use a toaster oven, but sometimes I burn myself. When I'm making smores... in Wal-mart...

It's a long story.

Who's the biggest let-down?
Hint: it's me.

Tuesday Night
We drink all night as if we're alcoholics. You laugh at the idea. I swoon.

Old Friends, New Friends, What Friends?
Who are my real friends. Do I decide who my real friends are? I hung out with people today that I could easily make my real friends, but do I need to abandon others in the process of doing so? Is it worth it? Are my furry friends my real friends? How involved can I get in the furry community. Do I need the furry community as much as I needed it three, four years ago? Why am I still around? Are my theater and school friends my true ones? How often do I honestly talk to them? See them? Hang out?

I'm asking too many questions. And I'm not in a bad mood over this or anything. I'm just contemplative.

When I started this blog in grade 11, and really dove into the furry fandom, I needed it. I was depressed, felt like I had nobody, and so I found a community that helped me feel a sense of identity and have agency over it, a place that made me feel like I belonged. It was exciting. Coming back now, it's different. Not bad, per se, but different. I no longer need the community for this, I no longer crave it, if that makes sense. I have so many friends now and so many safety nets of people that I'm not hooking my claws into this community as I once did.

However, there's an interesting shift in that I merely dreamed of meeting other furries and going to events back in the day, and now I do it semi-regularly. I have furry friends. I'm doing furry things. I've matured, I think. I don't need furry anymore, so now it's the choice of wanting. How badly do I want to be here. The other day I was thinking, "well, I won't be here much longer I guess. I have a career to figure out. I have to be successful. I can't be successful and do what I want." Well, no, fuck that. I realize now that I can choose to be here. And I will. I'm starting to stop being ashamed of many things, and soon furry will be something that just... is. A part of me. Insults will roll off my back about this just as homophobic jabs do now. I'll be myself as long as I'm happy.

You said to me, your figure outlined by a bright fluorescent glow from the ceiling lights, that you felt again like you could change the world. And you thanked me for it, said I had something to do with it.

Well, fuck.

I guess I'm here to stay.

Canada Day Approacheth!

That was preemptive. It's not Canada Day yet, but apparently my house is celebrating it early this year, as there's company over and a barbecue outside. That or we're going to have ANOTHER party/bbq tomorrow, in which case that would be THREE barbecues in a row.

Barbecue 1: FurBQ
Met up with my friends Salix and Catscan from school at a furry barbecue yesterday, hung out, ate food, saw some familiar faces, met plenty of friendly new ones. A lot of really nice furs, all very welcoming, even familiar. Then I played pokemon on my way home and caught a Mareep and named it Pretzal and it was the best Pretzal ever. I believe it was hosted by Potoroo, so here's a shout out to him on a fun evening!

Barbecue 2: Canada Day?
There are Italians in my backyard, and they're drinking wine. Lots of wine. It's loud.

Barbecue 3: C-can...canada... day?

Bjork and Breakfast
This heatwave that's been in the area for the past week finally hit my last night. I've been hiding indoors and in front of large whirring fans for the past week, but I finally had to A) sleep upstairs in my poor-air-circulation room and B)sleep alone last night, so I was both lonely and sweating like an Olympic athlete.

Pulling myself out of bed, I slung my feet across the carpet and practically rolled down the stairs to the landing. Now I'm sitting here listening to Bjork, which partly makes me ecstatic and yet causes some sort of inherent melancholy. Or maybe that's just because I'm hungry. Cereal hides, squirreled away, in the big cuboard. My company ate most of it, and who knows what remains are left, some carcass of a box of shreddies, or a few stray lucky charms marshmellows....

What shall I accomplish today, what oh what oh what.

I need a skill that makes me money.


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