*** Warning, possible random thoughts and nonsense may follow, be warned! ***

(This is to bump my last journal, sorry)

It all started with a phone call from a bill collector who debt I paid off years ago, they seem to have lost their records. I panicked and started sorting through years of bills and paperwork to find proof I paid it off. In that search I found an old letter dated back to 1991 that I've written to my brother and his wife while I was stationed in Korea. It was a mundane letter, the words did not touch off memories, it was at the end of the letter that brought back the flood of memories. In my letters to my brother, I freely drew anthros, not aware that there was a fandom until I saw parts of it in the mid 80's. I looked at the picture for quite awhile before my mind started making comparisons of then and now.

Back then I was a care free spirit, blind and innocent to what was to be the oncoming crap storm that laid ahead years from then. I drew for the love of it, and rarely showed anyone my work. I did not desire manufactured tails or ears, and for that matter, I only thought fursuits were for sports mascots. My active search for a love life did not have any boundaries nor strange preferences and I was innocent of those extreme fetishes I would see in the future. In a sense I was happy cause the only convention going I confined myself to was the comic cons that I could get to. Life was Bliss!

Then the internet came into my life. A little at first with the old Compuserve and Genie boards, the fandom made itself known in little bits and mysterious pieces. when I received my first copy of the Fandom Directory I was amazed that there were liked minds at work there, I did not hear the little voice in my head shouting "It's a Trap!!!" Little by little I fell into what I thought then was something wonderful. In a sense it still is, I won't lie, I had fun, I'm still having a bit of fun now, I plan to have fun in the future, but at what cost?

I can't blame the genre, no way, it is just the nature of the beast. I waltz through the mine field hoping not to get anything important blasted off while marveling at the madness and the strangeness we call a fandom. My desire for a fake tail and ears, as well as a fursuit has died off. The hopes of meeting anyone of the opposite sex with like interests have gone into a defensive mode, just looking and not getting any closer. (For those of the opposite sex who feel I have rebuffed their friendship, I apologize, in growing a thick skin and a protective shell to match. It saves me from the horrors outside, but I'm slowly rotting on the inside.) ((for those of the same sex who I felt an attraction to but have not the courage to take that step forward, I apologize. That same protective shell was tempered with misguided morals which seem quite hard to get rid of. I still have an open mind but I find it a battle each day to keep that mind from closing shut.))

The many things I have seen fetish wise that I have drawn but not actively chased still remain but in my twisted sense of self, I keep them at bay, knowing that one day the chain will break and they will go for my neck, and my crotch like a fixated pit bull. All of the possible good art that awaits creation will have to wait since the mine field seems to get larger and the mines are places more closely together.

And all this was touched off by a simple memory, one that I wish to keep but one I regret having but glad to have.

Cheers.