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Laser traps and poison arrows
17 years ago
I am, more or less, back. Which is to say I'm lurking about under buddy list locked messenger again and peeking my nose onto the mucks when time and desire permit.
But it wasn't without incident.
You see, I am a western vixen with eastern ideals. I like the idea of forgive and forget, of savoring new found peace and moving past the tragedies of yesterday. The western part tends to carry a very large gun and wags it at people trying to counter-act those zen like principles. It's funny like that.
In a very simple phrase, it boils down to this: Don't step on my happy.
Those who know me best know I'm not a bouncy pouncey bundle of joy and snuggles. I didn't just pick the doctor archetype so people would call me by a title and I'd have gadgets to play with. No, I actually quite adore science, philosophy and the logical pursuits of worldly affairs. I keep up with politics, I look into sociology, I occasionally read psychology; I am familiar with the modern state of American psychology for my everyday exposure, and with aid of my international friends I'm able to see not everyone is like us.
Make no mistake, ignorance is bliss; the burden of intelligence is being more able to see exactly how things are. It's unpleasant. It's more unpleasant when I see the same bullshit trends sneak into my form of escapism, that being furry land.
For the most part, I engage in pleasant distractions to detour me from the daily hamster wheel of stupidity and drama that boils over the American melting-pot and lands squarely into the game. So I rope myself off with my playmates in private areas, or I submerge myself in sound, or lose myself in gaming distractions; anything to distance myself from the rabble. Occasionally, the distractions work so well that I'm not just hoping to ignore reality but I actually slip into this peculiar state called Happiness.
I know! It's shocking. With all the bullshit in Foxy's IC past and the various mutterances I've wretched over this blog, it would be easy and even fair to assume that I'm some miserable emo kid. But I do actually have happy days!
They are.. so special, the happy days. I'm sure the fuzzy hangers on that don't know any real OOC details are mostly there -because- of the happy days; the days where I'm totally on top of my game, earning my lesser known reputations of best descriptive blow job or most intricate BE scene (according to some people). It is, for how rare and splendid they are, a virtual vixen holiday. Line up people, the melon-breasted parade float just sauntered down the street! Party time!
Of course, not everyone 'syncs up', as it were. We all have our bad days, our sour moods. Then there are people just too stupid, blind or self absorbed to notice or care that someone else is having a GOOD day. Believe me, I've been in that boat; I've missed a few times where my friends have had rose colored glasses, but I'm usually considerate enough to acknowledge that happiness is rare and they should enjoy themselves even if I can't enjoy it with them. But when someone goes ahead and wields the bastard sword of inconsiderateness, swinging their drama and emo at my happy day? Ooooh ho ho. I do NOT stand for that shit. The very fastest way for me to never want to talk to you again, is trying to shoot down my happy.
My best outbursts in fur-land are typically related to someone stepping on the happy. I know a certain bunny who greeted by playfulness with an angsty tantrum. She got cut from my life faster than Zorro could pull his shit out. The first time a certain purple vixen stepped on my buzz, she fell down the relationship ladder so fast she didn't know what the fuck hit her. And the recent second coming of such a mistake from the same person has prompted me to cut the line completely.
It's really very simple people. And this is advice to everyone.
Happiness is rare.
If some dumb cunt or otherwise is accidentally stepping on your happy... Tell them to kindly take a hike. If some unrelenting asshole is deliberately trying to curb your good cheer? It's time to take that dog behind the barn and off the fucker. No amount of family or friends is worth letting some sour idiot rob your happiness from you.
A life not enjoyed is hardly worth living. Don't put up with cancerous relationships.
But it wasn't without incident.
You see, I am a western vixen with eastern ideals. I like the idea of forgive and forget, of savoring new found peace and moving past the tragedies of yesterday. The western part tends to carry a very large gun and wags it at people trying to counter-act those zen like principles. It's funny like that.
In a very simple phrase, it boils down to this: Don't step on my happy.
Those who know me best know I'm not a bouncy pouncey bundle of joy and snuggles. I didn't just pick the doctor archetype so people would call me by a title and I'd have gadgets to play with. No, I actually quite adore science, philosophy and the logical pursuits of worldly affairs. I keep up with politics, I look into sociology, I occasionally read psychology; I am familiar with the modern state of American psychology for my everyday exposure, and with aid of my international friends I'm able to see not everyone is like us.
Make no mistake, ignorance is bliss; the burden of intelligence is being more able to see exactly how things are. It's unpleasant. It's more unpleasant when I see the same bullshit trends sneak into my form of escapism, that being furry land.
For the most part, I engage in pleasant distractions to detour me from the daily hamster wheel of stupidity and drama that boils over the American melting-pot and lands squarely into the game. So I rope myself off with my playmates in private areas, or I submerge myself in sound, or lose myself in gaming distractions; anything to distance myself from the rabble. Occasionally, the distractions work so well that I'm not just hoping to ignore reality but I actually slip into this peculiar state called Happiness.
I know! It's shocking. With all the bullshit in Foxy's IC past and the various mutterances I've wretched over this blog, it would be easy and even fair to assume that I'm some miserable emo kid. But I do actually have happy days!
They are.. so special, the happy days. I'm sure the fuzzy hangers on that don't know any real OOC details are mostly there -because- of the happy days; the days where I'm totally on top of my game, earning my lesser known reputations of best descriptive blow job or most intricate BE scene (according to some people). It is, for how rare and splendid they are, a virtual vixen holiday. Line up people, the melon-breasted parade float just sauntered down the street! Party time!
Of course, not everyone 'syncs up', as it were. We all have our bad days, our sour moods. Then there are people just too stupid, blind or self absorbed to notice or care that someone else is having a GOOD day. Believe me, I've been in that boat; I've missed a few times where my friends have had rose colored glasses, but I'm usually considerate enough to acknowledge that happiness is rare and they should enjoy themselves even if I can't enjoy it with them. But when someone goes ahead and wields the bastard sword of inconsiderateness, swinging their drama and emo at my happy day? Ooooh ho ho. I do NOT stand for that shit. The very fastest way for me to never want to talk to you again, is trying to shoot down my happy.
My best outbursts in fur-land are typically related to someone stepping on the happy. I know a certain bunny who greeted by playfulness with an angsty tantrum. She got cut from my life faster than Zorro could pull his shit out. The first time a certain purple vixen stepped on my buzz, she fell down the relationship ladder so fast she didn't know what the fuck hit her. And the recent second coming of such a mistake from the same person has prompted me to cut the line completely.
It's really very simple people. And this is advice to everyone.
Happiness is rare.
If some dumb cunt or otherwise is accidentally stepping on your happy... Tell them to kindly take a hike. If some unrelenting asshole is deliberately trying to curb your good cheer? It's time to take that dog behind the barn and off the fucker. No amount of family or friends is worth letting some sour idiot rob your happiness from you.
A life not enjoyed is hardly worth living. Don't put up with cancerous relationships.
The Furr community is has some of the creepiest and retarded people I've encountered online. I came because I like the idea, but the losers involved in the community can just be overwhelming sometimes. Foxy and another fur were the only reasons I sticked around as long as I did.
Krieg has been nuked, Foxy, but I miss you. :(