Seems I've outgrown my current primary fursona…. and I will be replacing my rather worn-out lion wiiiiiith….

drumroll pleeeaaaaase…..

A chakat.

Hir name is Proudwing Moonstalker, in keeping with my tradition of having "Moonstalker" in the name of my primary fursona. I am currently looking for an artist to do a picture of ref sheet of hir, so if you know anyone that will be willing to do a trade or work for free….. as I am quite sadly broke…. please let me know. Also I must apologize for being away so long! I have been through a lot of drama recently! It is good to be back, and you can expect more poetry and short stories from me in the future!

I apologize for not having been on here in a while. I have been very busy over at Tails Refuge! It's a great site, I strongly reccomend that all of ya check it out at least!

-RebelWolf213, aka, Moonie


http://www.tailsrefuge.com/

I am on Tails Refuge! My username there is Moonstalker. Feel free to stop by and say hi!

As college life has discovered to it's dismay, it's pretty damn hard to kill me. Now that I am no longer buried alive under my workload, I'm back! I promise more of my poetry will be posted soon, so be on the lookout!
-RebelWolf213

And I'm back! I am pleased to announce that my blog is officially up and running! Well, for the most part anyway. It's a work in progress. The url is punnysideupautism.blogspot.com for all who are interested. Feel free to check it out!

-James Thomas Jackewicz, aka, RebelWolf213

A few things are gonna be different folks! First off, my fursona "Ari" is becoming a lot more like me... literally! He is now a wolf-taur. A clone of me attached from the waste down to the massive body of a wolf. Changes are the spice of life, enjoy this phase while it lasts!

Yet again I get betrayed by someone I thought was a close friend. The human side of me wants to curl up in a ball and stay like that forever, My wolf side isn't doing much better. :( Not a good day to be me.

Hell.
I’ve been there,
Trust me it ain’t pleasant.
The seven levels,
Of conflicting emotion.
The torture, the rage, the fear.
The loss of hope.
Hell is a place.
Trust me.
Betrayal, rejection,
A love never returned.
A broken promise.
It’s a horrible place.
Not full of fire,
But cold, unforgiving, ice.
Hell is a place,
Where few people can escape.
You see, it takes another.
You need a friend.
You need an understanding.
You need love.
That is why I’m still here,
In hell.

Hello everyone!

I recently got a chance to do some volunteer work in Chester, PA. For those who know where that is, great. For those who don't, please look it up. Chester has a lot of problems, number one on the list being pollution. A whole army of massive waste treatment plants are located near the city, and the trucks that carry the semi-toxic refuse drive 24-7 right through the center of the city and through many neighborhoods. As a result the cancer rate in the city is something like 6 time higher then the national average, and other toxin-related illnesses run rampant. These people need help. They hold an annual mayors clean-up day in Chester, PA. Look it up folks! If you live nearby, come on out! The more the merrier!

-RebelWolf213

In the shadow of two towers,
We remember you.
We remember your lives,
Your loved ones,
Your friends.
We remember all the victims.
From a field in Pennsylvania,
To Ground Zero in New York.
All across the nation,
Our flags fly at half-staff.
As we remember,
We remember how we came together,
One people, one nation, one flag.
We will remember you.
You brought us together,
You gave us a common cause.
By your suffering, pain, and death, you brought us together.
United as one.
By the rockets’ red glare, our flag was still there.
God bless the victims.
God bless the USA.

As I am considering starting up a blog of my own, for my more "human" side, I thought I would put that info here. When I get around to setting it up, I will post the link to it on my page. Lookout interent! Here I come!

America

America used to sing,
Loud, clear, and true
Today it sleeps.
The windows dark,
The shades pulled down.
The door shut and latched.
The sleepwalker in the night,
Stumbles about, trying hard,
To remember that long-lost song.
Another day come and gone,
Another dawn breaks,
A noise from the lawn!
The shades go up!
The door unlocks and opens!
The sleeper awakes,
Singing that same old tune.
America used to sing,
Loud, clear, and true.
You could hear its voice,
In the mighty Mississippi with its cold water.
In the voices of the children as they run and play.
In the echo from the tops of the tall Rocky Mountains.
In the whispering wind,
Wandering though a farmer’s field.
In the crisp, clean efficiency of the factories.
And most importantly of all,
In the hearts, minds, and souls of its people.
Our song lives on in the heart.

A Poem

A poem.
A window into a,
Life, time, Idea.
A door into a
Room, world, day, era.
Full of someone’s,
Life, style, energy.
Full of emotion,
And somebody’s good intentions.
A poem.