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Psychological thoughts... pain... suffering... love.
10 years ago
General
So... where do I start? *sigh*
This journal was brought about by the feelings that I've had recently, as well as a comment by someone on a story (no names for courtesy reasons).
Timothy and Friendly are my own fantasy... two boys who become the best of friends. Those of you who know Timothy very well will also know he has consistent issues with his bike getting stuck in the mud (and also various dreams of mud conspiring to trap him); his need for pull-up diapers when he sleeps (and wearing them during the day for comfort and confidence issues up to the age of seven) and also his dependence on his training wheels to ride his bike (in every story so far). Timothy also cannot swim at all and needs to wear floaties when he goes in water too deep for him.
Many (if not all) of my stories will involve Timothy getting stuck in the mud one way or another, it's just the way things go.
I share Friendly and Timothy with other furries sometimes, and those who do get to participate in roleplay or story (or yet, both) of these two lovable characters are very lucky indeed, and I'm about to explain exactly why that is.
Timothy was born out of my own personal desires and interests after a friendship with someone who was very important to me eight years ago went somewhat awry. Timothy is my own personal imaginary friend. Others may call me silly, stupid, mentally ill, mentally delayed or whatever labels they want to come up with, but I'll still always love Timothy no matter what people on this world think.
However, do you know the hardest part about loving an imaginary friend so much? The fact you'll never actually feel the love, joy, comfort, and also sorrow of having a real friend like the one you love. Whenever I see a little boy riding a bike with training wheels, I always think of Timothy and how much fun could be had if he were alive and real. Also whenever I go swimming I think of Timothy and how much fun it would be to be swimming with him. It's torture to the soul sometimes.
For those of you who are starting to worry about me a little now, please don't. Not that I'm not worth worrying about, but I'm not suicidal. I will admit I have had those thoughts before, but I believe I was put on this planet in this particular dimension for one reason or another, I just have to find out why. When my time does come though (most likely either through natural causes or a tragic accident), I'll be comforted by the thought of being in the company of my little friend, Timothy.
That is literally the only thing that comforts me about death, the thought of being with my little friend at last... being able to feel his soft, thick fur, to see his little hazel eyes light up, to hear him chittering and trilling when he's happy and to hear him sniffling when he's upset, to comfort him when he is upset, and know with all my heart and soul that I love him and he loves me too with his little heart and soul.
So when someone says along the lines of 'I can't read your stories because it's the same thing over and over' - the only thing that bothers me is they expect Timothy (or Friendly) to be different. But then it wouldn't be Friendly and Timothy, would it?
I will say something in this person's defense though; I have been working on other ideas for Timothy besides always getting stuck in the mud or wetting his pull-ups, but these things are likely to be commonplace in my stories because Timothy really does need his pull-ups and his training wheels. I have a rough idea of a timeframe when Timothy finally does stop bedwetting and also gets the confidence he needs to try and ride his bike without his training wheels, but I haven't gotten to any of this yet, it could be a year from now or a decade from now. I just haven't gotten around to writing anything that advanced yet.
That is all.
FriendlyFox.
This journal was brought about by the feelings that I've had recently, as well as a comment by someone on a story (no names for courtesy reasons).
Timothy and Friendly are my own fantasy... two boys who become the best of friends. Those of you who know Timothy very well will also know he has consistent issues with his bike getting stuck in the mud (and also various dreams of mud conspiring to trap him); his need for pull-up diapers when he sleeps (and wearing them during the day for comfort and confidence issues up to the age of seven) and also his dependence on his training wheels to ride his bike (in every story so far). Timothy also cannot swim at all and needs to wear floaties when he goes in water too deep for him.
Many (if not all) of my stories will involve Timothy getting stuck in the mud one way or another, it's just the way things go.
I share Friendly and Timothy with other furries sometimes, and those who do get to participate in roleplay or story (or yet, both) of these two lovable characters are very lucky indeed, and I'm about to explain exactly why that is.
Timothy was born out of my own personal desires and interests after a friendship with someone who was very important to me eight years ago went somewhat awry. Timothy is my own personal imaginary friend. Others may call me silly, stupid, mentally ill, mentally delayed or whatever labels they want to come up with, but I'll still always love Timothy no matter what people on this world think.
However, do you know the hardest part about loving an imaginary friend so much? The fact you'll never actually feel the love, joy, comfort, and also sorrow of having a real friend like the one you love. Whenever I see a little boy riding a bike with training wheels, I always think of Timothy and how much fun could be had if he were alive and real. Also whenever I go swimming I think of Timothy and how much fun it would be to be swimming with him. It's torture to the soul sometimes.
For those of you who are starting to worry about me a little now, please don't. Not that I'm not worth worrying about, but I'm not suicidal. I will admit I have had those thoughts before, but I believe I was put on this planet in this particular dimension for one reason or another, I just have to find out why. When my time does come though (most likely either through natural causes or a tragic accident), I'll be comforted by the thought of being in the company of my little friend, Timothy.
That is literally the only thing that comforts me about death, the thought of being with my little friend at last... being able to feel his soft, thick fur, to see his little hazel eyes light up, to hear him chittering and trilling when he's happy and to hear him sniffling when he's upset, to comfort him when he is upset, and know with all my heart and soul that I love him and he loves me too with his little heart and soul.
So when someone says along the lines of 'I can't read your stories because it's the same thing over and over' - the only thing that bothers me is they expect Timothy (or Friendly) to be different. But then it wouldn't be Friendly and Timothy, would it?
I will say something in this person's defense though; I have been working on other ideas for Timothy besides always getting stuck in the mud or wetting his pull-ups, but these things are likely to be commonplace in my stories because Timothy really does need his pull-ups and his training wheels. I have a rough idea of a timeframe when Timothy finally does stop bedwetting and also gets the confidence he needs to try and ride his bike without his training wheels, but I haven't gotten to any of this yet, it could be a year from now or a decade from now. I just haven't gotten around to writing anything that advanced yet.
That is all.
FriendlyFox.
People come up with their characters in many different ways; there is no right or wrong way.
Please remember, Friendly; We love you and will always enjoy your stories as they teach us all that no matter how bad things may be, there is always someone to hold you up and keep you going.