Holy Crap It’s Been A Long Time

Well, here I am, posting to my blog. It’s been a long time because I got out of the habit of sharing online when I had acute bronchitis.

That’s right, I got sick, and then I had acute bronchitis. You should’ve heard my voice for a week, it was impressive. Maus thought I’d injure my vocal chords, but I came out fine. Bronchitis really messed up my schedule, and because of that I totally got out of the habit of writing in my blog and sharing my pictures and experiences.

However, there is very much news in this beautiful life: I have a fursuit now! Yaaaaaaay! It took two trips up to my childhood home, but I finally have one. We furred the head, and I took a picture, it’s around here somewhere. I’ve yet to post it, but I’ll try. The suit fits very formed to my body, and because of that it’s very hot, however, I’ll be able to put clothes on it, like a black button up short sleeved shirt and cargo shorts. I already have the boots and suspenders.

I’ve already gone out in the partial (head, hands, and tail) two times. Once in Old Town and once at King Soopers (where I did mah shopping). But tonight I hope to debut the full suit (without clothes, just boots… hope that doesn’t look weird) at a halloween party I’ve been invited to by my old property manager. We used to live in a different townhouse complex, and we became friends with the property manager that worked there at the time. Kinda like we became friends with the crazy lady next door. It was the time that Nathan was around, and he had a strange skill to make friends (although, he was never really a friend to anybody, just a broken damaged little person).

Speaking of Nathan, I know it sounds weird, but sometimes… I miss him. He really was my best friend. He was my last best friend. But… in the end it was all a lie, and that hurt a lot. We talked, joked, caroused, smoked, dreamed (or at least I dreamed), had adventures, when times were good. But, at the same time we did things that weren’t so good, like I became an asshole, and we caused so much stress in my personal life I was hospitalized twice. So there was good and bad, but… there was good and bad. I miss having a best friend, a bromance if you will, and it’s hard to think I never really had one. It was all just a fantasy. When I said goodbye to Nathan, I went up to my bathroom and cried a lot. I didn’t want him to see me cry. We also stored the PS3 and projector at my friends house so he wouldn’t steal it. What a criminal… and I still remember when he said he had a problem. He was speaking about everything, he had a problem being a normal person, and I said, “I know. But I can’t help you anymore.” Those words still echo in my mind.

Maybe I’m just unrealistic in my expectations of a best friend. In fact, I know I am, and that’s exactly what Nathan took advantage of. I think the root of the problem is that in some ways, some subconscious ways, I have remnants of Borderline Personality Disorder. I’m not self-diagnosing, that was the first diagnosis I received in my treatment. I think I wrote about this once before on this blog, but I can’t remember when or where, so I’m writing it again (my blog, my rules). I love having a male best friend, somebody I can share all my creative energy with that’s not my partner. Somebody I don’t have sex with. Somebody that’ll do interesting things with me (not that Maus doesn’t).

I like hanging out with guys. That’s pretty much it, and how I’ve always explained my homosexuality. I like hanging out with quality guys, straight, bisexual, or gay. When I say quality, I mean not an asshole, stupid, or a skeezy man-whore. There is a certain overlooked psychology to males that people many times don’t think about or realize. Many males actually experience heightened emotional states, sometimes with more fervor than females, they just don’t process or deal with them like women do. And camaraderie, camp, whatever, they just approach things differently and have their own strengths and weaknesses. These are formed by growing up as a guy, learning to have fun as a guy, learning to interact with other guys. There’s kind of an unspoken bond between guys that I love.

So what is a man to do when he’s a lonely gay guy stuck in a college town wearing a fursuit? Sometimes I reflect on my life and I realize I often live in a vacuum. Getting out and taking classes has helped that quite a bit, but in my daily life my world is Maus and myself. I have creative blocks, that I’ll write about later, partially because I feel like the only person that’ll ever see or appreciate what I do is myself. I used to have several friends that I’d hang out with on a frequent basis, like Derek… or Nathan, but now I don’t really have as frequent or close of friends. I have Aly, and Maus and I have Shannon, which is fine… but they’re not guys.

In other news, I’m trying to make something that we can sell. This is the story of my life. I have almost all the time in the world to do almost everything (classes do have deadlines and time limits), but I step in my own way and block myself from achieving anything. I want to make an interesting adventure game from an interesting point of view, but what do I do? I get writer’s block two characters in. I could program something and sell it on Envato market, but after I’ve converted all my old programming to a new format, I can’t think of anything to program that’s worth it, so I turn back to my adventure game. What do I do that’s worth my time?

Sometimes I tell Maus that I’m not a real person, and that it’s hard because I think other people are. Like Maus’ friend who commissions artists for pictures of well, let’s just say the cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, and he gets some awesome pictures. I know that sounds really stupid, but I look at that and think, “Gee, he can relax and be a real person and do things he wants to in his life.”

But Maus pointed something important out. He said, “David tried to make a fursuit for the longest time. He finished a mesh head, but never could quite make a suit. In fact, he somewhat convinced himself that he couldn’t make one.” He pointed out, “You’ve made or are making a suit, in fact you’ve made multiple suits. You constructed Isaac’s head all by yourself. You created that head. What would David think when he saw you wearing it?”

He had a point. I never really thought about that.

I guess… Thoreau is right. I must live deliberately. Sometimes I feel like my life just happens to me. More so than the saying, “Life is what we don’t plan.” I think part of it is that my mental illness just happened to me. I didn’t really have a choice. And I think in that sense I become a little bit of a victim. I don’t have a “everybody else’s fault” victim mentality like some people I know, but I don’t do things deliberately. I think either they’re too hard, they’re not worth it, or I’m all strung out on worrying about what’s worth my time. I need to somehow settle into my skin. I need to somehow be good just being me. I’m most happy when I’m just plain me.

My identity is a strange one. And I don’t mean that as a point of pride, I mean, sometimes I wish I was more standard. I’m not a conforming non-conformist, I’m the real deal. From high school personality cults, marrying a guy, walking around in a fursuit, knowing how to program but also write (and combine the two into game design), I never really fit in anywhere. I want to. I want to fit in, but I just never quite seem able to.

I worry, but I don’t really know what I worry about. It’s a pain in the ass. My mind is filled with worry about what I’m doing and whether it’s worth my time, I forget to live. I forget to be myself and just explore whatever impulse pops into my brain. So, I’ll wear my fursuit, and I’ll wear my tail, and we’ll see where that’ll get me. I’ve wanted a tail for so long, and now I have one!

photo credit: The Likes of Whom The People Had Never Seen Before. Beguiled and Deceived, The Masses Followed Him via photopin (license)

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kadar

I'm just a wunk, trying to enjoy life. I am a cofounder of http//originalpursuitssoc.com/ and I like computers, code, creativity, and friends.

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