Gallery's been updated to be FA-compliant, at least for the current policies and I will be logging out of this account. However, I am less optimistic I will be returning. Even if FA were to make their policies hospitable to babyfurs and other communities, they would still to reinstate about a hundred or so artists by now, overhaul the admin team along with publicizing the members of the moderation team for me to even consider coming back. Maybe they will. Anything can happen. In either case, I will see you when I see you.

"Keep furry weird" includes content you find uncomfortable, and this site doesn't want to be weird. After yet another policy change consistent with the staff's behaviour over the last few years, Furaffinity has become inhospitable to various sub-communities, my own babyfur, but also others like fatfurs, and oviposition. Since there is indication that their efforts towards the sanitation of Furaffinity have reached their conclusion, my gallery will be migrated to Weasyl over the next few days. A placeholder image will be uploaded to each submission to keep the record of it in the possible (though unanticipated) event that Furaffinity wants to be a furry website again.

My new gallery can be found here: https://www.weasyl.com/~babdotcom
For commissions, please contact me here: https://commiss.io/babdotcom
For social broadcasting you can find me here: https://bsky.app/profile/babdotcom.bsky.social
or here: https://abdl.link/@BabDotCom

Some years ago, I heard of a study where they administered MDMA to subjects with PTSD, and did a form of therapy where they discussed their trauma. The subjects found that people could handle their triggers and symptoms a little bit more skillfully than before. I've taken MDMA on several occasions, though not in a clinical setting. I think the thing that no other drug did for me, was that it created an unshakable sense of compassion and patience and understanding towards people. I loved my friends in a way I don't know I could ever properly do justice by describing. How could I summarize such an attitude?

You have your reasons. I doubt I'd think they're valid, but I know you have them.

I wonder if it's how a parent feels towards their child. How is it possible that my own parents could watch me growing, an absoulte jackass oblivious to the world around me, through the years of playing dressup with identities and self-expressions, through the years of taking risks with my life and health, and the years of my mental decline and still love me? What could possibly make a person witness someone go through all of that and still want to stick around for more? The only thing I've ever experienced in my life that could make that sort of ride even bearable would be the sense of compassion and patience and understanding towards people I felt on Molly. I can't fathom any other way I could possibly stand being a parent.

Now, I've no intention of doing MDMA again. It does a whole lot of things to me that other drugs do too. It begs the question, if compassion is the defining feature of MDMA, and MDMA is helping subjects process their traumas, is compassion the way to process my own? Must I learn to illicit this sort of compassion within me, ideally without abusing substances, and when I have developed a compassionate eye, turn it towards traumatic memories?

Traumatized people do not speak highly of themselves. If you know any, it's a horrifying thought to wonder how much of their self-deprecation is sincere. And if you are traumatized, ask yourself what about your trauma are you blaming yourself for? Not now, obviously. Don't ask yourself now. Although take note of how that question makes you feel. It might be a good baseline for when you ask yourself with compassion.

It could be regret. I've no doubt that there's a lot of regret in whatever traumas you have. Things you should have done different, things you could have handled differently. Maybe you wish you fought back or just accepted it. Maybe you didn't need to fight like you thought you did. Maybe you wish you had been kinder or maybe you wish you had left a situation sooner. But you didn't handle it well, you made some mistake somewhere and you ended up traumatized because you didn't handle a situation perfectly. But think back to who you were immediately before a trauma, how could that person possibly handle that situation perfectly?

What could you possibly be holding against yourself?

And when you speak and then hear these words with nothing but compassion, they ring like a fucking gong. It's painful. It's like having a migraine in an earthquake, a few seconds of absolute agony and then the warm hum, gently leaving you. The moment you hear it, it sounds like the stupidest question you've ever asked yourself. The anger, blame, regret, fear and pain all disappear as if they were never there. And for a while, you can hardly remember what you were blaming yourself for or why you should be the one holding it against you in the first place. Why would you even need to ask?

You might not have had an understanding and forgiveness and compassion towards yourself in a very long time. It's okay. Just retrace your steps, alright? Think very very hard. Where do you remember having it last?