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A letter for a sad case that moved me
7 years ago
Too bad I can't add photos in this section. On my FB page I attached a pretty picture to this letter provided by the kind Felix the Fox.
I wish him a lot of strength in these hard times!
My thoughts are with you these days, RC Fox, who left us way too soon with only being 33 years.
I also think of your family, who lost a son, a brother, a cousin, and of your true friends who lost a dear companion.
I know I never had the chance to get to meet or talk to you, but the warm words and compassion of some as well as the blind contempt of others have moved me.
That is why I'm writing you these words.
You who couldn't find any other way out of the maze of your dispair.
Theatened by law and hunted by deamons. Both your inner demons and the ones on social media.
Cruel, cold-hearted demons who would rather see you dead than to bethink of the values of the furry community of which they ever so proudly claim to be part of. Their eyes are too shrouded by prejudice than to give you a shred of understanding and sympathy.
Driven into fog you appearently couldn't even see the hands of the ones who tried to reach for you and tried to help you out.
Your suicide puts us all to shame.
Society failed to protect you and the community you used to seek shelter in failed to support you the moment your mask has fallen and revealed you are not just a fursona, but merely human.
After all I've been reading about you I know in life you shall be remembered as a caring, talented person and furry, who brought joy to people.
But in death you stand as a memorial. Reminding us of all our inadequacies.
Showing people where the path of hatred and social exclusion leads.
For those tarry vultures to see and understand. So they can feel remorse and wash their sticky plumage clean, for then to fly beyond their own horizon and never let this happen again.
Then your death wouldn't have been in vain.
I wish him a lot of strength in these hard times!
My thoughts are with you these days, RC Fox, who left us way too soon with only being 33 years.
I also think of your family, who lost a son, a brother, a cousin, and of your true friends who lost a dear companion.
I know I never had the chance to get to meet or talk to you, but the warm words and compassion of some as well as the blind contempt of others have moved me.
That is why I'm writing you these words.
You who couldn't find any other way out of the maze of your dispair.
Theatened by law and hunted by deamons. Both your inner demons and the ones on social media.
Cruel, cold-hearted demons who would rather see you dead than to bethink of the values of the furry community of which they ever so proudly claim to be part of. Their eyes are too shrouded by prejudice than to give you a shred of understanding and sympathy.
Driven into fog you appearently couldn't even see the hands of the ones who tried to reach for you and tried to help you out.
Your suicide puts us all to shame.
Society failed to protect you and the community you used to seek shelter in failed to support you the moment your mask has fallen and revealed you are not just a fursona, but merely human.
After all I've been reading about you I know in life you shall be remembered as a caring, talented person and furry, who brought joy to people.
But in death you stand as a memorial. Reminding us of all our inadequacies.
Showing people where the path of hatred and social exclusion leads.
For those tarry vultures to see and understand. So they can feel remorse and wash their sticky plumage clean, for then to fly beyond their own horizon and never let this happen again.
Then your death wouldn't have been in vain.
