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Frolicking thoughts of the mongrelhorror
The physical sensation of personal experience is not something I think that can be adequately described in words. To logically understand what -40 degrees Fahrenheit is does little to train the muscle memory of constant shivering and the strange dream like veneer stretched over mundane details. As much as a time of season, winter to me are these abstract instinctual knowledge details of moving through an environment in which cold moves like an indifferent deadly predator. The meat of me has earned this knowledge in a way that makes the information part of what I can expect as possible within the world.
My dogs have journeyed along side me with it, and at a range much closer to the cold grip of the snow's surface. Dogs know these secret things about life in a way I think is much more fulfilling than human existence can offer. It fills more of the entirety of their being, and their appreciation of it is that much stronger as a result even if the fine logical understanding is somewhat more fuzzy. I have learned this trait from them and it colors my own world that much more richly as a result. I think the path of modern convenience is to save enduring human 'dignity' the struggle of having to live through the discomfort of having a mortal body and it blinds us by degree to what being alive is truly like.
He who makes a beast of himself is saved the pain of being a man, they say. I think the moral of that saying is that to be so enmeshed in the requirements of the moment that leaves little time for pretense is to be more entirely the animal our meat was evolved to be. I respect that as a savage kind of virtue that I can only ever emulate by degree. I recognize that it sets me apart from being able to feel like I can be open with many of the people in my life and describe myself in a way that they might relate to. Winter lives within the treeline of my black heart and peers out from the dog-gaze of my eyes.
Dogs also know that farts are funny, reflections are not to be trusted, and that cats are made of wholly edible material (and sometimes snow apparently) which most people totally try to tell themselves otherwise.
( artistic lifting talent https://www.furaffinity.net/view/14362847/ commission this artist person)
( the letter PEEEG provided by https://www.furaffinity.net/user/mulefoot/ )
The physical sensation of personal experience is not something I think that can be adequately described in words. To logically understand what -40 degrees Fahrenheit is does little to train the muscle memory of constant shivering and the strange dream like veneer stretched over mundane details. As much as a time of season, winter to me are these abstract instinctual knowledge details of moving through an environment in which cold moves like an indifferent deadly predator. The meat of me has earned this knowledge in a way that makes the information part of what I can expect as possible within the world.
My dogs have journeyed along side me with it, and at a range much closer to the cold grip of the snow's surface. Dogs know these secret things about life in a way I think is much more fulfilling than human existence can offer. It fills more of the entirety of their being, and their appreciation of it is that much stronger as a result even if the fine logical understanding is somewhat more fuzzy. I have learned this trait from them and it colors my own world that much more richly as a result. I think the path of modern convenience is to save enduring human 'dignity' the struggle of having to live through the discomfort of having a mortal body and it blinds us by degree to what being alive is truly like.
He who makes a beast of himself is saved the pain of being a man, they say. I think the moral of that saying is that to be so enmeshed in the requirements of the moment that leaves little time for pretense is to be more entirely the animal our meat was evolved to be. I respect that as a savage kind of virtue that I can only ever emulate by degree. I recognize that it sets me apart from being able to feel like I can be open with many of the people in my life and describe myself in a way that they might relate to. Winter lives within the treeline of my black heart and peers out from the dog-gaze of my eyes.
Dogs also know that farts are funny, reflections are not to be trusted, and that cats are made of wholly edible material (and sometimes snow apparently) which most people totally try to tell themselves otherwise.
( artistic lifting talent https://www.furaffinity.net/view/14362847/ commission this artist person)
( the letter PEEEG provided by https://www.furaffinity.net/user/mulefoot/ )
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Fantasy
Species Mammal (Other)
Size 1280 x 826px
File Size 186.3 kB
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