quentincoyote: (Default)
This post concludes the three part "trilogy" if you will, about my experiences at Burning Man 2017. Part one was a letter that I'd written to my camp mates shortly afterwards, and can be found here. Part two, in long story format, may be found here.


The Temple - photo by Dan Harmon

So now it is Thursday evening... And I'm going to go to the Temple

I needed to wait a few days, before I got up the nerve for this. One does not simply, after a five year journey trying to get to the thing, just flippantly go on out there, all casual about it. I mean... this is it. Five years ago, I got the spark of an idea, that that's where I needed to go, to put a picture of my mother, to lay her to rest. Somehow. Someday. And now, five years later... here I am. I am standing at Center Camp, facing the road to the Temple, with some pictures of her in my backpack. A picture of Benny, too. My beloved cat of ten years, who had died along the way.

This year's theme for Burning Man was called, "Radical Ritual." I didn't even know that at first, when I set out in the car with my friend to Black Rock City. Or at least, maybe the significance of that phrase hadn't quite sunk in. And yet, how appropriate... For as the week progressed, as I became more and more Opened Up, as I discovered the Sound, as I stood in the desert laughing and crying at beauty, as I remembered how to feel Awe again, as I learned how to Change my Story, and set my burdens down, and rediscover my best Me inside of me, that I had lost touch with for so long... I realized, isn't that exactly what all of this has been, all along, in its way? This whole five years? The most radical ritual of all, that I could ever do... Mom deserved nothing less. And in the process, I have been rediscovering and healing myself. I think she would be proud.

And now I am finally standing here... And I am ready.


I was even clean for it, too. After five days of Becoming One with the dust, and not having anything that people back in the Default World would reasonably call a "shower", you tend to get a little bit grody. But, as I wrote about previously, I have just had my magical meteor-kissed, sky-diver blessed, grilled cheese sandwich laden Charlie the Unicorn early morning sunrise dance party, and everything else last night besides, and now I am ready for this, boy howdy! I know that today is the Day. Today needs to be Temple Day. So, ok, Radical Ritual go! What do we do first?

Well, I figured, in circumstances such as these, one might ritualistically wash one's body first. Much as, last night, I had already been washing my soul. So it was, that after hearing about it, and after five days of searching for it, I did finally manage to find the Trans-Foam-ation camp. And, after some extremely interesting, informative, and moving speeches by some Trans speakers, (I will say that, even as a gay man, it still opened my eyes up to some new perspectives that even I hadn't had before), and, after yet another DJ'ed party, consisting of myself and a couple hundred other buck naked people, men/women/both/other, all dancing and laughing and lathering each other up, as cheering volunteers overhead sprayed us all down with soap and water, I found myself feeling entirely refreshed and rejuvenated in every possible way!

I mean really... I come back here now, and it's like, how do you people stand it, with your old boring, stodgy, solitary, non-educational, non-rave dance party showers? It's just entirely uncivilized!



So now it's Thursday evening, and I am at my home camp, Camp Fur. It is the Golden Hour, as the Sun has just set behind the high Black Rock mountains in the distance. It is cool now, and it will be a soft orange-red twilight out for quite some time. Voices call out from all over the city, as they always do here. Howling at the parting sun. For this brief moment, Coyotes all of them, every one.

I could make a beeline to the Temple at this point, from my home camp coordinates of 7:45 and A on the map. But from the moment I got here, I knew that that's not how we do. We must perform our Radical Ritual. With all seriousness now, and solemnity, I bike down the arc of Awe street... (Yes.. thank you Space Coyote. You even put my camp here on Awe street. I get it. That was pretty good...) I bike down the arc of Awe street, all the way to Center Camp, with pictures of Mom and Benny in my backpack.. And now I am staring down the big main road all the way out to the Man... and the Temple beyond.

The lanterns along the street have all been lit by now, high up on their posts. They are beautiful, on any night. But now, as my heart is starting to race, and the goosebumps raise on my arms, as I think about the import of where I am, and what I am about to finally do, they are majestic, and ominous.. It's like... to a point, you can't believe that you're actually here seeing this.. That such a place as this, that this idea, that you once read about so long ago, actually exists. But you are. And it does.

The weather, which during the evenings so far had been very calm, also agrees that this is a momentous occasion, and that it would be an awesome time to become super dramatic. Cause I'm standing there, at the start of the road about to begin my trek, and all of a sudden the wind whips up out of nowhere, and is blowing dust all around, and covering everything out to the horizon in a blurry red-ish haze, the lamp lights leading the way, and it's just... FUCKING AWESOME... because of how amazing it looks, and, it's also fucking terrifying, because I'm literally about to be trying to go out there to 'bury' my mother, and it picks that moment to go, "Yeah? Well I think you'd totally better having a fucking sandstorm for that walk right now, that'd be good mood lighting for it, right?!"


It fucking was...


So I go on out there into this, my dust mask fitted, my goggles on. I get to the Man first, and I pause, pay my respects to him. I find the Shrine of Lost Moments sculpture, and brush my hand along the cover of its book - the seed of my first awakening here. And then I continue on down the road to the Temple...

Every other night, I have avoided it so far. If ever I accidentally found myself steering too close, I would startle and veer away from it. But now, I am ready. And its lights are getting brighter and brighter on the horizon as I approach.

As I am about half way there... the wind dies down. And it is calm again. I keep on going, and more and more details are starting to resolve. From far away, the Temple had always looked very ornate, and intricate. But now, as I get up close, I can start to see how simple it really is. It's just... very basic beams, stacked together in a complex pattern, but apart from that, it almost seems plain. I'm actually almost a little disappointed. (And mad at myself for this.) But still, the bubble is burst for a moment. My fantasies of the personification of the sandstorm evaporate. This is just a place. It's just a thing that some people have built. It is calm here, though. Quiet. Peaceful. There are many people here milling about, in quiet hushed tones.

I lived in New York City during 9/11. I was there that day. And, I remember the gatherings at memorial sites immediately afterwards. Places where people would come to leave pictures and mementos of their lost loved ones. I myself was very fortunate to have not lost anyone that I knew personally, then. But still, it was impossible not to be caught up in the emotions there. You grieve and cry with everyone. You want to hold, you want to comfort, everyone. I recognize that this is one of those places. Back then though, in New York, the wound was so immediate and raw, and everyone was in the thick of it. Here, the emotions on display are a little more diverse. There is a lot of open crying going around, yes. And everyone is subdued and solemn. But, there is quiet talking going on, as well. Even occasionally some soft laughter. And some, it looks like, just peaceful communing. It makes sense. Here, everyone's situations could be entirely different. My own mother, for example, had been gone five years now, it's not like this just happened to me yesterday.

I start exploring the building, looking for a possible place to put Mom and Benny. I've got a pen with me, too. I want to write.. something for them. But, I still don't know what yet. And every square inch of surface that I can see is just covered with pictures and messages. I start to get caught up a little bit in the banality of my task, to physically find a place to put some paper. I'm getting a little bit frustrated. I shouldn't have waited so long to come here. There's nowhere to put them. I just want to freaking put them here, can't there be a space for me here somewhere too? And I start thinking back to Mom, and Benny, and how they died, and how much pain mom was in, and how so fucking unfair it was in both cases, and how much I fucking love them, and miss them, and need them, and why aren't they here anymore??

And I've come to stand in the central chamber as I'm thinking all of this, stewing about it... And there is young man there, sitting on the floor, in a ring of other people. And he's got a guitar. And, he starts playing, and softly singing a song that I recognize, by Leonard Cohen...

Now, I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do ya?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah...


And it is beautiful... and it just reaches into my soul... and I start to sing along softly at the chorus, as do other people... But before I can even get through the first Hallelujah, I suddenly out of nowhere start bawling, just crying my eyes out, tears streaming down my face, choking on the words as I'm trying to sing hall-e- lu-lu-luuuu *sob* jah... And I'm crying as I'm singing this song, and other people are crying, and other people have been crying, long before me, and someone from behind me gently places their hand on me, and squeezes my shoulder, and we all of us, not just me, we all need a place to put our fucking pieces of paper in here, and it's ok, we will, we're here, we made it, we can let go, and we're all in this together, and we're all singing this beautiful song, and I am not alone...


I have a good cry. I cry for a long time. I just let all of it out. And it's ok. It is good. This is where I'm supposed to do that. This is where we all came to do exactly that. The simple beams of the Temple converge in the central chamber to form an intricate "chimney" in the middle high above, open to space, like it's already funneling all of our emotions up into the ether.

Eventually I stop, and am calm. It's time to go outside for a minute, pick a clear spot to sit down, and write my messages on the pictures for Mom and Benny. I don't have pictures of the messages that I wrote, because by this time as I'd written previously, I'd lost my cell phone. But here are the photos that I'd used. The two of mom, I taped up together to each other, side by side:

On the one of me with her as an adult, I wrote:

Mama, I love you. I miss you. I wish you were still here. I'm sorry for how you went. But, I'm finally ok now. I'm going to be ok.

On the picture of her smiling at me and holding me as a baby, I drew a circle around where she's reaching out her finger to me and I'm grabbing it, and I drew a heart there, with an arrow pointing to the circle.

Here is the picture I used for Benny - The first one I ever took of him, in 2004 when I found him in a tree, and brought him home:

On his picture I wrote:

Always wants to be in my lap. Rides around on my shoulders. Loves belly rubs. Plays fetch!

Benny Benniwei Benvolio the Third. Found in a tree, Memorial Day 2004. Taken by a brain tumor, 2014. My heart. My soul. My familiar.


My baby, you were a miracle sent to me from heaven. You loved me unconditionally for ten years. You nuzzled me with your dying breath. I will always love you. I will never forget you.

Then I take them back in the temple, back to the central chamber, and I find a space for them together, near the floor on one of the inner chevrons, that raises up kind of like an altar. I can sit here on the floor next to them. And it is good.

I sit here for awhile, and just watch and listen to other people. I feel connected to all of them. I see such pain in so many of them. And such compassion in everyone. I see some people cry, and look at their faces, and I don't even know what or who it is that they lost, but I can see how much they are hurting, and it makes me cry all over again, not even for mom or Benny at all, but just for them, and whatever it is they are going through.

Then I turn back to mom and Benny, and look at them... and now I do cry for them again. But, it's different this time, than it's ever been... This time I'm not crying anymore out of the hurt or terror of losing them. I'm not thinking about mom in the hospital for once, and all her cries of pain. I'm not thinking of Benny suddenly losing his eyesight over a period of weeks and losing control of his bladder... nor the doctor's sad face, when she told me the MRI had found an inoperable tumor...

No. Now... I am just thinking of all the love that I have ever felt for them, and them for me, and all the good times that we had together. And I finally brought them here. And it will be ok now. And I will be ok now. And I am telling them that I love them. And I am saying goodbye. I am sitting on the floor, and I'm sobbing a peaceful, cathartic sob as I think all of this.

And then, I feel another hand on my shoulder, squeezing me. And I look behind me, and it's this young pretty blond woman, sitting behind me. And she is from New Zealand. And her name was Zinny.

And she opens her arms to me, offering an embrace, and I just collapse into her, and she holds me, and comforts me, as she lets me cry it out with my head on her shoulder. And pretty quickly like that, I am comforted, and my shaking abates, and I am totally at peace. We get to talking, and sharing our stories. She had come back here tonight to visit with her father a little bit, who's picture she had put here previously. She's totally peaceful and serene as she tells her story. There isn't a tear in her eye at all. Just warmth, and love. Happiness, even. She tells me the story of her father. Her family was from Russia. And they lived by Chernobyl, when that happened. And she had only been born shortly beforehand. And she said that her father gave up everything, his whole life, everything that he knew, to get them out of there, and to take them to New Zealand, so that she, his daughter, could live and have a happy life. And, she said that her father had never quite adjusted to his new home. Never really fit in. But, he did it anyway. For he loved Zinny so unconditionally, that she was always more important to him than any of that.

There is a smile on her face as she tell me all this, especially that last. Again, there is no pain there. There is no cry... only love.

I am very moved by her story, and I tell her so. And then I tell her the story of my mother. I tell her that my mom had Lupus, and was very sick at various points, throughout her life. But, she never let it get to her, never moped, never let it slow her down. She was always very active, had many hobbies, made friends easily, was the kindest, most loving person, and the strongest woman I ever knew. And I told Zinny how my mom taught me, from very early on, that you cannot control the cards that you are dealt in this life... But, that is not what's important. What is important... is what you do with them. I told her how that always affected me very greatly. It has always been one of the cornerstones in my life, and has made me who I am. Zinny smiles and says my mom sounds wonderful, and she must have loved me very much. I thank her, and say she was, she did.

A procession of about 30 or so new people has now just filed into the room, all hand in hand, and they start softly singing some songs together. Some I recognize. I ask Zinny if maybe she would like to get up and join them with me? She thanks me politely, but says no, she'd rather just stay there and visit with her dad for a little while longer. So we hug, and I thank her for everything, and we part ways...


Now I am standing in the central chamber, joined hand in hand with the ring of people that have come in. Then we are all there, softly singing, and quietly meditating for awhile. And then finally, the woman who has been in charge of the procession leads us out again, and we all file out in a single line, all still hand in hand. She leads us outside the temple, and I wonder where we are going. What is going to happen next?

As she approaches the temple's courtyard fence, she curves to the right in a wide arc, and leads us into what I think is about to become another circle. But instead of going to the end of our line to complete the ring, she comes into about the middle, and proceeds to keep on circling in. So now instead of a ring, we have become a spiral, which is continuing to wind up and tighten in on itself. Finally she spirals into the center and can go no further, and before we know it, we find ourselves hand in hand, wound up into a tight ball of people. It's a little surprising, most of us didn't expect this, and so we stop short and chuckle a bit at it.

And then the woman leading us looks us all over, smiles, and gives a deep sigh. And then she raises both her arms, and hugs the people closest into her. All the rest of us follow suit, and so now we are a ball of 30 people, packed together, and we are having a huge group hug... I've never done anything quite like this before, and this is all a group of complete strangers. And yet, I feel such a feeling of relief, and compassion, and safety, and comfort, I collapse into the people around me, and hug them tightly to me. I feel them collapse into me and hug me back. And we are all just there together like that for a few minutes, comforting each other.

And then, the woman raises her head.. takes some deep breaths.. closes her eyes.. and is looking inside of herself somewhere. She is thinking of who she lost... And she starts sobbing, starts bawling openly. And that is more than enough to set all of us off, and now we are all thinking of our lost loved ones, and we are all sobbing and crying our eyes out. And I'm thinking of mom, and Benny, and I'm crying so hard that I'm shaking, and the people have no idea what I'm crying about, and yet, they do, and so they are holding on to me and comforting me, and I have no idea what they are crying about, and yet, I do, and I am holding onto them and comforting them, and so we are all now having a huge group cry...

And then the woman calls out to the sky, "I love you..!" Calling out to her lost love. We all start doing it too. We are all holding each other tightly, and calling out to space, "I love you!" I am calling out Mom, and to Benny.

And then another person in the crowd calls out, "I miss you!" And then all of us take up the cry together, "I miss you!" And we are all bawling and shaking and crying our eyes out, and shouting, "I miss you!" "I miss you!" I wail out, "I miss you so much!" Other people call out other cries, which are then taken up by the crowd, as we each say that thing to our lost people. One person yells out, "I forgive you!" And not all of the crowd, but some do, take up that chant. But, that makes me think. And I think back to mom, and her last three months in the hospital, and all of the things that I made them do to try to save her, because I thought that's what she wanted, because that's what she told me she wanted, she wanted to live. But in the end, it didn't do any good at all, and just brought her more pain and suffering, when instead she could have maybe been at home, more comfortable until the end, with us. And I'm crying so fucking much as I'm thinking this. And I'm thinking about Benny and his brain tumor, and wondering if there was something else I could have done, if I had noticed his symptoms much earlier, if I could have done something differently, would he still be here? And I just scream out at the top of my lungs, "I'M SORRY!!! I'm sorry..." And oh my god, is the crowd sorry... A whole new wave of shaking courses through us again, and now everyone is crying up to the sky, "I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!!!" I sob out, "I'm so fucking sorry..."

Finally, after minutes of this... we have all cried ourselves out... and we are all panting and exhausted, and we all hug and collapse into each other again. And we all gently rock each other back and forth, until the last person has stopped shaking...

At last we all release, and the woman indicates we could now part ways. Though she offers to lead some to a different gathering she's going to, if anyone wants. I've had enough though, I am exhausted and am ready to move on. I feel a million pounds lighter however. More so than I've ever felt in years. Everything feels ok. Mom and Benny are where they need to be now. Surrounded by my love. And surrounded by the love of all of these other people who have come here together, laid to rest in that beautiful place. Everyone feels it. There is such... relief in all of our faces. We smile, wipe our tears away, and hug one last time, before we all go our separate ways...


It's Friday now. And, the whole world is already very different for me than it was at the beginning of the week. There is a rightness, and correctness, and serenity.

I think back to Zinny, and how she had come back to the temple days later to commune with her dad, and the look of peace and happiness in her face as she talked about him. I like the thought of that, and I want to do that too. I have other adventures throughout the remainder of the week, but I do come back to the temple again at least once a day. And every time I go, I return to the central chamber, and sit next to Mom and Benny for a little while, and just quietly think about them. And I cry a little bit here and there. But now, it's a much happier kind of cry, as all I ever think about is all of the good memories I had with them, and none of the bad ones at the end anymore.

I watch other people in the temple too, and empathize and cry with them... Some of them I approach to hug and comfort, as Zinny had done for me. The Temple, the place I was afraid of for the first half of the week, is now my favorite place in all of Burning Man. I want to be here always. I haven't quite hit upon the notion of becoming a Temple Guardian yet, but that idea is fast on its way. I want to take in everyone else's stories now.

There are, actually, a lot of pictures of Moms. And pets. As with the book at the Shrine of Lost Moments by the Man, I gravitate towards these first. But then I branch out into everything else. As I have worked out my own pain, I now have the room within me for empathy and love for all of them.

One particular one I came across, and super loved, was this panel of, like, six copies of the same cover page of a magazine, all taped together in two rows of three. And on this cover was a picture of some model, a very pretty woman, sitting in a chair. And the impression that I got... was that this was the person who had died. The title on the cover page was that this was the "How To" issue of the magazine. And all around the picture of the model were little blurbs of text, about what articles were in the issue. All kinds of "how to" stuff. But, it was all little nothing... fluff. Things like.. "How to save money at the supermarket!" And, "How to something something with your makeup!" And, "How to herpa derpa stupid shit!"

And on each one of the panels, the creator of the poster, whoever they were, that put it there for the woman on the cover, had angrily crossed or scribbled out one of the little banalities, in bright red ink, and written next to it things like...



And on and on like that. That's who this person really was. Not the idiotic trivialities proclaimed by the magazine. And reading each new panel was like a punch right in the gut. And my eyes are going wide and bugging out of my head as I'm reading them, and my hands are balling into fists, and I start shaking a little bit, and in my head I'm going, "Yeah... Yeah! FUCKING YEAH!!! YOU TELL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"

I loved that one, it was great.


It is Saturday afternoon, before the Man burns. The sun is still up in the sky, but it is getting cooler. I have come out to the Temple again, sat with mom and Benny, and then done my usual wandering around here. I go outside the temple and just look around outside for a bit. Out towards the playa. The sun is starting to get low and red. And I hear the hushed voices inside the Temple - the Release of pain... And of course, I hear the ever present Sound, from the direction of the Man and the City - the Gathering of joy... And it is now.. in this moment.. in a flash of inspiration and insight, as I look at the sun, and listen to the Sound, that I realize what it is. The goose bumps raise, and a ball of adrenaline explodes in my stomach, and I suddenly Know... that the Sound is the Laughter of Coyote, as I have written about earlier. The circle is complete. This is where he lives. This is his Home. And at last I have come Home. And I am filled with Love... and Awe... and Peace...

I smile at this thought, as I consider it for a few minutes, and tears well up in my eyes.

Finally, I am about to turn away and start on my way back to camp, so that I can join my friends for the Man burn. But in that last instant, the... import of my Realization is just so huge and enormous that it overwhelms me. A wave of emotion seizes me. I turn back to the temple, find a clear beam on the outer edge of it. I grip it with both my hands, wanting to physically feel all of the energy that is pulsing through it, and I rest my forehead on it, collapse against it. I feel like I am merging with it. I close my eyes, and quietly start sobbing one last time... I let all of the feelings of the last five years wash over and through me, as I think of mom and Benny, and everything that happened since then, everything that it took to get Here. And I start whispering to them, "I brought you here... I brought you here... I brought you Home..."

I am there like that, for a few minutes.

When I finally pull away, I look to my right, and there is a young man standing right there next to me, looking at me so very intensely. Dusty from the desert. With dreadlocks in his hair. His eyes are wet, and he is staring straight into my soul. I can feel that he just empathically shared my Moment with me, completely. Normally, before this week, in the Default World, I would have slammed up all of my shields, and been like what the fuck, who are you, get away from me! But here, I raise my arms up, silently asking for an embrace, and in an instant he has rushed to me, and caught me up in a tight bear hug. I just completely relax and collapse into him. He holds me, and rocks me, and I cry openly into his shoulder. He keeps soothing me, and in a few moments, I am completely calm again... And once I am calm, then I can feel him start to tremble slightly.. and now he is crying. And my eyebrows knit together, and I am at peace, and I am now concerned only for him, and I hug him tightly to me, and rock him back and forth gently, as he collapses into me, sobbing and shaking. I rock him and soothe him, until he is calm again too.. Then we just stand there for a moment, peacefully embraced like that. Then we pull away, and I smile tenderly at him. I pull him in one last time, we share one more brief, tight hug, I kiss him on the cheek, and as we pull away, I place my hand on his heart, and I say, "Thank you."

I never saw him again. I don't know his name. I do not know his story. He does not know mine. And I will remember him, and thank him, for the rest of my life.

That is what this place is.

And I will be a Temple Guardian.
quentincoyote: (Default)
[Note: a previous version of this story incorrectly named the Shrine of Lost Moments as the "Tree of Sorrows". It has since been corrected.]

(Aerial view photo from 2015)

So on Wednesday evening at Burning Man, I lost my cell phone. I was using it as a flashlight in the porta potty, got distracted as I was leaving, and just left it there, sitting on top of the paper dispenser. Perhaps some tiny part of my brain thought I was being polite, for leaving the light turned on for the next person. In any case, it wasn't until an hour later that I discovered this, when I reached for it in my neck wallet, only to put my hand into empty space. Frantically I retraced my steps in my mind, and immediately hit upon the remembered image of the phone there, lighting up the porta potty for me. I rushed back over to them right away, but by that time... Which fucking porta potty was it, even? And, even if I did pick the right one, was it currently in use right then by someone else? And, was it even still there at all, or maybe taken? Suffice to say, I never found my phone for the rest of the week, and I have zero pictures of the Burn, past Wednesday.

But let's slow down and take a step back for a minute. How did we get here, anyway?


Burning Man is a yearly festival, that takes place in the Black Rock desert in Nevada. It covers an area of some seven square miles, and holds 70,000 attendees. It would be even larger than that, but that's where they cap the number, and just finding a ticket is a struggle and adventure, much less getting there physically, much less living and surviving there. The only thing that is sold there is ice, and coffee, period the end. Anything else that you need to survive for a week in the desert, food / shelter / etc, you must bring in with you. And, you must take everything out with you again, when you leave. You must leave no trace. For in the winter, the Black Rock desert becomes a lake, that evaporates into nothingness, come the summer. And, in kind, so too does Burning Man's Black Rock City evaporate into nothingness, to give way to the lake again.

I, personally, had been trying to get to Burning Man for the past five years, as I have written about in another story. Thus, I was not totally unprepared. I had read the official survival guide, many many other online accounts and how-to videos, and by this time now, I had attached myself to a camp of veterans, comprised of my own natural community, from what Burners call Camp Reality, or, the Default World, outside. (I'm a furry. Yes, those people with the animal costumes. Specifically, I'm a Coyote. I camped with Camp Fur. Hi / Aroo.)

Camp Fur

A picture of the fursuit parade, taken by The Guardian

So anyway, it wasn't too much of a shock yet, when we rolled into Black Rock. I had even studied the map of the city beforehand, so I was able to drive right to our camp (7:45 and A), without batting an eye. Me and my veteran friend that I came in with had early access passes, so we got in very early Saturday morning while it was still dark out, and everyone else was asleep. As my friend had had the foresight to insist that we get pop tents, we too found ourselves in that state as well after about ten minutes. And so, after a pretty good night's rest, the next day and a half, still officially "pre-event", were spent just building camp with our comrades, and getting acclimatized to the desert, before all that much actual Burning Man was going on.

So. All of that being said, what was my reaction, when a friend of mine asked me the next day if, so far, Burning Man was what I expected? Well... yes... to a point. I was not going in blind here. Again, I had been trying to come here for five years now, for significant personal reasons. I have seen many pictures, watched many videos, listened to countless stories. And, all of this did look like what I had seen so far. And yet... the thing is MASSIVE!!! The scale is just incredible, beyond anything you could have imagined! You can know intellectually how big the thing is supposed to be, see the numbers, grok the map... and yet still, you will not be prepared for the enormity of it all. Pictures do not do it justice. I have now taken pictures while I was there. It just doesn't matter. Some of these pictures are included here, and, they're pretty nice, even. But, I look at them after taking them, and I instantly see now just how completely poor and inadequate they are at conveying what it is like to really be standing there among it all. (This realization will eventually help me be ok with losing my phone, since, I realize, all I will really have lost, is the pictures that I took. But pictures, I come to realize, are for the people who weren't there. I was. I am.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself...


The Thunderdome. Yes, they actually have, and do, Thunderdome.

Desert art

Upon stepping into Black Rock City, you could be forgiven for thinking that you'd landed in Mos Eisley Spaceport, on Tatooine. The landscape is alien. The city is alien. The people are alien. (little do you yet suspect how quickly you will be joining the aliens.) As you emerge from the center of the city, into what is called the playa, there are massive works of art, just plopped right down into the dust, seemingly at random, just strewn all over the place. (you may not know it yet, but almost all of this art has two phases. Their daytime phase, and then their nighttime phase, where they come alive with lights, sound, and often fire effects.) And always, ever present, is the hot desert sun overhead. It is massively hot. Constantly reminding you that yes, you have to actually survive out here. It is not a joke, this is not Disneyland. The back of the Burning Man tickets warn, in no uncertain terms. "You might die!"

To that end, survival I mean, I can break it down for you, using the idiom in which I came to think of it. At Burning Man, you have various "meters" on your person, which you need to learn to keep at optimal levels, at all times. So let's see. You've got your food meter, you've got your water meter, you've got your pee meter, and your poop meter. You've got your sleep meter, your heat meter, your personal cargo space meter, your exhaustion meter. You start out thinking that you've got a "clean" meter, but, that one falls way the hell by the wayside, very quickly. In addition, you've got your personal buffs (sunscreen, breathing mask for dust, sunglasses / goggles, to protect your eyes.) And, back at your camp, you've got some reservoirs you top off with, which also have their own meters. Do you have enough food to last for the week, for example. Some of your meters, you can learn to extend. For example, you could go back and forth somewhere way the hell across the map from where you are, every time you need to go pee, or... you could just carry a pee bottle in your backpack at all times, so you're good to go for five or six pees if necessary, and just empty it out in a porta potty, whenever it becomes convenient. Rule your pee, do not let your pee rule you! And, do NOT ever pee on the playa! Leave no trace, motherfuckers!! :-P

It's funny to me now, when I look back, and think of some of the things that I was worried about, before I got to Black Rock City. For example, there was one tank top that I wanted to bring with me from home, that says "Hella NorCal!" and it's got a rainbow unicorn on it. I thought that would be an awesome shirt to bring to the playa! Unfortunately, I had left it sitting in my closet for a long time unused, and when I took it out on the evening we were trying to leave... it was wrinkled. Do you hear what I'm saying? It was wrinkled a little bit. And I just couldn't be seen like that. It would look weird, and I'd get stared at. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I hemmed and hawed a little bit, over whether I should really bring a bike or not. I mean, seems like kind of a hassle, and do I really wanna bike around that much all week? Surely I can just take it easy and walk to stuff? Um.. no. TAKE A FUCKING BIKE! And put lights on that shit! And put lights on yourself! Don't be a "darktard!" I had thought the whole lights thing was about decoration. And, it is. But, it's really more utilitarian, so that people can see you and don't run you the fuck over with their bikes when you're all zipping around at night.

At the beginning of the week, and for a couple of days, I was all like, ehhhhhhhh ewww, it's dusty everywhere.. and I gotta keep clean, and I can't sit down anywhere, and I gotta keep the dust off of this and that and the other thing...

And then by the time that Tuesday's dust storm wall rolled in, like something straight out of The Mummy, I was all like YEEEAAAAAH, ROAR! BRING IT MOTHERFUCKER!!! All Road Warrior like, fist raised, dancing to the music our camp leader was playing, rolling on the ground making dust angels...

Photo courtesy of Areitu Cheetah

So, suffice to say, you do acclimatize, eventually. I did, anyway. And just in time for the start of the festivities!

And what are the festivities, you may ask? Well, it's like this. Burning Man's, Black Rock City's festivities, are all provided by its citizens. Of which, you are now one. Each placed camp is encouraged to put on whatever events showcase their own ethos. So you have, not only, what does each camp do, but also, who are they? What are they all about? There is everything from food camps, to music camps, to spirituality camps, art, engineering... pick any interest that you might have, and the chances are good that there's at least one camp that is into that thing so much, they've devoted their whole theme to it. Some of these camps have been around for a very long time, and the more established and elaborate they are, the closer they are placed to the inner most ring of the Esplanade.

And then there are the art cars. These are large vehicles, often buses, which have been converted into giant traveling dance party platforms of hugely elaborate design. While I was there, I saw giant pirate ships, a cruise ship, a flying carpet, the Souuuuuuullll Train, various huge animals.. One favorite was BAAAHS, the Big-Ass Amazingly Awesome Homosexual Sheep. The way you board him is, you have to climb up a ladder in back, and slide down his asshole. Also his sound system was incredible.

BAAAHS, the Big-Ass Amazingly Awesome Homosexual Sheep. As can be seen here, entry is in the rear...

So all these art cars drive around the playa at night, all lit up, playing their music. And meanwhile, all the people are riding around on their bicycles, lit up with their own led lights. And what will happen is, an art car will go by which catches some of their fancy, and so they will end up peeling off, and following the art car around into the darkness. So, the overall effect amounts to these giant neon covered dance party "sharks" driving around the darkness, with their own personal schools of glowy pilot fish all around them. It is at once hilarious, and breathtaking to see, and for the first couple of nights, I pilot-fished myself around many of them.

(Did you know that it is possible to dance on a bike, by the way? I had no idea, myself, but I discovered this the first night, when, while pilot fishing around a particularly rockin' art car, the music kind of just took hold of me, and I started swerving back and forth slightly, timing the strokes of my pedaling to the beat, making long, slow circles around the car with my fellow fish, as we danced through the night. Totally awesome!)

What struck me as the most amazing, coolest thing however, (that first day, anyway. The bar for "most amazing thing" would just keep getting raised and raised as the week went on,) was the realization that all of these art cars driving around, couldn't have known what cool huge art pieces were going to be out on the playa before they got there, anymore than I, or anyone else did. So, the seeming affect was, that they must just drive around out on the playa until they see something interesting, and then they stop there for awhile, and then it's like, gonna be super awesome dance party right HERE by the giant flamingo statue, right NOW! And this just gets constantly changed up, as each art car, with it's own style and it's own music, and it's own band of followers, just hops from cool art thing to cool art thing, throughout the night.


So it's Monday night, and I'd learned to survive here. I'd started to get into my groove, and all of my meters were humming along pretty efficiently. And yet so far, I was still pretty stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. But, my eyes were not opened yet. And I was still carrying around all my outside world baggage. I didn't "get it" yet. Like, everything was definitely cool, and interesting, and pretty, and there sure was a lot of great dancing and parties. But, that's all it was to me so far. My first big breakthrough to something deeper though, came the first time that I went out to visit the Man. I'd seen him from far away for the past few days, but I figured I'd wait to go out there, until he was finished being built. And during the day, while I'm walking around, I overhear from somewhere behind me, some woman talking about the Man. And she's clearly been here before multiple times, and she's complaining that, "Oh, he looks so small this year, and he's not on a big pedestal. And he's in this pagoda temple building kind of thing. That kind of sucks, it's like, you're not even gonna see him this time! All you're gonna see is the building he's inside!"

And me, not knowing any better, I kind of start to get pissed off by this too. I'm like, "Yeah! What the fuck? I've been trying to come all this time, why do I get the shitty Man year?"

"Why do I get the shitty man year?" -Quentin Coyote

Monday evening Me will slap Monday morning Me in the face for my impertinence. For Monday evening Me rides up to the Man finally... and it's just beautiful. Tall, towering above, laced in yellow neon, ensconced in a stately Chinese style pagoda. Serene chimes set into the inner walls play softly, and light up with soft colored lights as they do. The Man is set in the very center of the inner ring described by the Esplanade outside. There are streets adorned with lanterns leading to him from each of the cardinal directions, and it gives the appearance of ley lines... focusing and drawing in all the joyous energy of the city. Sitting underneath the Man on a pedestal, is a crystal egg, shimmering with orange fluorescent tendrils of light. I will come to think of Burning Man as having two sides. The Man embodies the Joy energy of the city. While continuing on, in the distance out towards the Deep Playa, the actual Temple of the City embodies the pain, and the sorrow, the world weariness that we all need to release. It looms large, majestic, and ominous, with faint candle light. I am in awe.. and actually a little afraid of it. I begin to get butterflies in my stomach. For with the Temple I see, for the first time, that which I say had drew me out to Burning Man in the first place, five years ago. There is where I need to go, to lay my mother to rest. I am in awe, and afraid. I'm not ready to go there yet. But here I am at the Man now... and it is beautiful. A procession of people comes in, in a line, all hand in hand. They form a ring around the egg, and they all lay hands on it. A woman in the circle, wearing a sort of steampunk corset outfit, with a top hat, and black eagle wings, elderly, beautiful, full of joy, poise, and confidence, sees me there gawking, and she reaches out her hand to me to come join them. I do, and I place my hand on the egg also. After a little while, the procession moves on outside again, hand in hand, and now I am among them. Outside, the woman starts to talking to me. And she is from New Zealand. And she tells me a story of how this procession is for some woman, who lost her home in a fire, and how one of the architects of the Man learned of her story, and rebuilt a house for her. He also built one of the statues outside on the playa, and dedicated it to her. I have been drinking and partying, and dancing the past couple of nights. That's what Burning Man has been for me so far.. But now the veil starts to get pulled back.. And I am shown the compassion. The humanity.

The pagoda of the Man is ringed outside by dozens of small art pieces. I wander around to look at them all. And I come across this one, called the The Shrine of Lost Moments. It is this sort of willow tree on a pedestal, all lit up. And on the willow branch strings, are all these little tokens. There is writing around the base of the tree. And it talks about how, in our lives, we find various loves.. and then sometimes, one day, these loves are ripped from us too soon. And we may become sad and broken, with a hole in our heart. And then we must go on a journey. A transformation of our sadness into a new understanding and acceptance. We must find our healing. And the tree instructs us to find a token on it, and write down a name of something or someone that we have lost. And to then break the token in half, and leave a piece of it hanging on the tree, and to take the other piece with us. There is also a large, leather bound book set into the pedestal. And it asks us to write a story of our lost love. This sculpture and book, it says, will not be burned. It will be kept safe. I open the book, and start reading the stories there...

And all of a sudden out of nowhere, I just start breaking down, crying... For I know why I am here. My mother is very much on my mind. But, now I am reading all these stories about other people, and their loves lost. Some have lost parents too. And pets. I gravitate towards these, but, then others as well, that have nothing in common per se with my personal experience. There are other messages there, as well. Response messages, that other people have left, for the stories of sadness and pain. Though the writers may never meet the people they are responding to. Though the original writers may perhaps never read them. I cry with, and grieve, for all of them. One person had written, "I'm so afraid that I will never find love again." Another person had written under this, "You will." And... all this ball of emotion and sadness, that I have been carrying around inside of me for so long, that I sometimes forget it's even there, is suddenly pierced, and it all comes rushing out of me at once. I am crying so much that tears are streaming off my face, wetting the dust of the playa. Crying yes... but catharsis... release.. relief. Empathy. I am not alone. We are all together. All of us. We are One. It is Monday night... And I am at the Man, standing in front of this book crying... And then, suddenly, on the horizon, the fireworks from the City go off.. And I raise my head, tears still dripping from my face.. and my jaw drops in wonder.. and the corners of my mouth curve up in an astonished smile... and now I'm laughing.

Eventually, I turn back to the book, and I write some response messages of my own. I will return to this book a few more times, over the next several days. After the third day, I write a message for myself.

"I learned how to make the pecan pie mama, just like how you use to make it. I still wish that you were still here to make it for me instead, anyway."


It is Monday night, and I am by the Man, a little distance away now, looking at the lights of the City, and I have been crying, and laughing. And it is here where, for the first time, I notice the Sound. The Sound of Burning Man. When you go out into the playa, away from Black Rock, away from any art car, all you can hear is the Sound. The Sound permeates everything. It vibrates your very bones. It is the beating heart of the City. A million voices, and songs, and dreams, all cascading together in harmony, in this.. All-Voice that penetrates your soul. The City is alive. It haunts my dreams to this day.

Some time ago, when my mother passed, I wrote a sort of Eulogy for her, for myself. And in it, I included a point taken from a book that I was reading at the time, called Trickster Makes This World. Trickster, takes many forms in various world mythologies, but very prominent among them, and called out by this book in particular, is Coyote, my own spirit guide. And the point in question here was that, one of the primary characteristics of Trickster is that, he has no Home. Other animals do. Fish, for example, live in the river. Birds live in the sky. But, Trickster has no home. This quote vexed me very much at the time, and caused me no small amount of sadness, as I was indeed feeling very much lost and adrift, with the loss of my mother, and some other things besides. I thought I had a home, I thought I knew where I belonged. But, that was all pulled out from under me, and my world was turned upside down.

But.. for having no Home, no Place, no fixed way of Being on his own, Trickster is adaptive, and can move at will through all of them. When the river dries up, the fish will die. But, Trickster will learn the new Place, will survive, and will thrive.

There is a tattoo of Coyote on my shoulder. This particular Coyote is taken from an image from a web comic, called Gunnerkrigg Court. And he is the best, most truest interpretation of the Spirit of Coyote, that I have ever seen. He has become my own personal idiom for God, the spirit of the Universe, what have you. Space Coyote, if you like. I talk to him often. He talks to me. And I embody my own piece of him.

Coyote, from Gunnerkrigg Court, by Tom Siddell

It is Monday night, and now I have discovered the Sound. A few days from now, I will decide, I will realize, I will learn, that the Sound.. is actually the Voice of Coyote, made manifest. This.. This place.. This is where Coyote comes from. This is where he lives. This is his Home. For what is the Sound, anyway? It is the sound of Life, constantly churning and mixing and reforming itself, experimenting with ever new ways of expression, and being. And then it evaporates entirely... only to be reformed anew the next year, with new voices and new ways of being. Even the things that were there before which return, end up in entirely new places and combinations. It is chaos. It is joy. It is sorrow. It is ecstasy. When you first arrive on the playa, the greeters at the gate say to you, "Welcome Home!" I had thought at first, that that was a nice little catch phrase and sentiment, but I didn't really believe in it. Because Trickster has no Home. But that is the paradox of the playa. And I will finally see, that in a land that comes from nothing, and returns to nothing, but in the interim becomes... EVERYTHING... that I have found myself in the truest Coyote Home there ever was. I have come Home. I am Home. I am not physically there anymore... but, I have never left. I'm still there. From now on, I always will be. Forget Om... Burning Man is the sound of the Universe vibrating. Burning Man.. is the sound of Coyote laughing.

But... it is Monday night... and that realization has not come quite yet. It will.


So, it's Wednesday night, and I have lost my phone. I left it in the porta potty. Shit! That sucks... What am I gonna do now? So I'm riding around on my bike in the city, trying to figure out what is my adventure going to be for the night, but also pissed off and aggravated about my phone. But, I don't want to let it get to me too much. I am very cognizant of the fact that it might be gone for good, but there is absolutely nothing I can do right now about it anyway, and do I really want to let that spoil my Burning Man experience? No, of course I don't, so I'd better learn to get Zen about it really quickly. So let's think about it. What did I actually lose, really? I am completely capable of replacing it when I get home, and all of my shit is backed up in the cloud. Except, for being in airplane mode, all of my pictures that I have taken here so far this week. But, didn't I just go on an entire diatribe earlier, of how pictures do not fucking do justice to this place anyway? So what's the point of them? All having my phone has really done, is make me take myself out actual moments, that I'm experiencing right now, and make me force them through some fake screen, for people who aren't here right now, and for whom they aren't going to convey the true awesomeness of it all, anyway. And, isn't one of the ten principles of Burning Man Immediacy, in the first place? Yes, it fucking is! So, what if, losing my phone is Burning Man, Space Coyote, whatever, just telling me to have some fucking immediacy?? Yeah, ok, cool, you know what, I think I can work with that! So let's go have an adventure! So I'm biking down the street, and it's a little after midnight-ish, and there's lots of pretty, interesting things. But, I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm kinda hungry, I'm aggravated, and I'm all in my head, already skipped over to the end of the whole Burn going, "Ok, so when I get back home, I can go to the phone store before work, and goddammit, my fucking phone!"

And then out of nowhere, this woman appears in front of me, points at me, and shouts, "Hey you! You want some pho? Come have some pho!" I have apparently, completely randomly, stumbled into a camp for Midnight Pho.

I just stop dumbfounded and stare... Because I'm like, pho... pho..? Are you kidding me?

I... fucking... LOVE PHO! It is the greatest fucking thing ever! It is the greatest pho-king thing ever, if you like! I had never even heard of pho before I moved to California from New York City, and then when I got there and discovered it, I'd had pho for lunch like every single day for a year!


And I'm standing out here, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere in the fucking desert, and you're telling me that you want to GIVE me pho, right here, right now?

Hell yes, I want some pho, fuck my phone, let's go have some pho!!! :D

And I go there, and they give me pho, and it's hot, and salty, and it has noodles and limes, sriracha and all the fixings, and it's so good, and now I'm all warmed up, and I'm fed, and I went back for more three times, and I am the happiest coyote ever! THE PLAYA PROVIDES! :D

So yeah, now I'm alright, I'm all good, got my head right again, priorities straight. Couldn't care less about my phone, lets go have an adventure!

So I'm biking down the street some more. This time, back in the deep City. Hadn't really checked this place out much before now. All the other nights so far, I'd been staying mostly in the playa. So, let's change it up, let's see what the back alleys are like.

And all of a sudden, around a corner, looming up above me, is this huuuuge lit up art car! I'd seen it driving around on previous nights, and pilot fished around it for awhile, cause it was cool as hell, and played awesome music. I had been told by veteran friends, prior to now, that it was an amazing experience to ride around on an art car. I'd already thought that sounded like an awesome idea, but I hadn't really been sure how to make it happen. You definitely can't get on them while they're moving, and I didn't really know what the protocol was for finding them, or getting invited on whenever it was that they might take people. But here is this totally awesome one, parked before me now. And it appears to be at its home camp. They have not gone out for the night yet, but it looks like they're just about getting ready to. I see a man in front of it, talking to a small group, and he looks to be in charge. He's wearing some kind of like, leopard fur vest, and a felt fedora. He has a Spanish accent. And his name was Bruno.

I'm a bit nervous, and still not quite out of my shell. I have noticed that, regular Burners seem to be very open with each other, and just start up conversations with strangers with complete ease. I really haven't learned how to do that yet. I find it a bit hard to just start talking to random people, for reasons that I've written about in another story. But yet, here is this amazing thing before me, and, I really want to get on it, very badly. I also notice that, unlike some of the art cars, this one clearly has bike hooks on it, so you can hang up your bike on it, and it'll get taken along with you. So this is a sign. It has to happen. So I make myself bold, go on up there, and I say, "Um, hello! Is this your art car?" And Bruno says, "Hey man, what's up? Yes it is! Hi there, my name is Bruno!" And I say, "Hi Bruno, my name is Quentin! Um... I really love your car, I saw it out last night. Um... I was wondering.. is there any way one... might.. be allowed.. to ride it?" And Bruno says, "Hey yeah, sure man, come on up, have a great time!"

I'm not entirely sure what I said back to that, but I think it sounded something like, "SQUEEEEE!"

So this car was named... Ixilatle. Or Quetzalcoatl, or... something like that. (No, not really Quetzalcoatl.) I asked a bunch of times, and Bruno and others kept on saying some string of syllables that I could not quite capture, but, point being, it was some kind of Mexican amphibious fish thing, that is the only animal in the world that can regenerate its limbs if it loses them. Or something like that. Anyway, it's cool as hell, and while this doesn't narrow it down as far as art cars go, it is particuarly well lit up, and in addition to its upper deck, it's got yet an even higher observation deck, above that. And its DJ is already there at the sound system, working his magic, and it's pretty damn rockin' - kinda slick, cool, low, and funky. The DJ is wearing a t-shirt which on the back of it says, "Mexico is the Shit!" And there's a bunch of other burners on the art car already, talking and laughing with each other. I get on, sort of nervously but politely nod at people, and find myself an unoccupied corner on the highest deck, to stand and observe.

Pretty soon, we roll out, and then I am here on this amazing car, the Ixi-doodle, awesome music playing, people dancing, and we're driving out through the City, and into the playa, among all the sculptures, and light, and sound, and everything. And now I'm seeing everything from high up on this balcony, and I don't even have to exert myself. And we are attracting our own school of glowy blinky pilot fish, swarming around and behind us, and we wave to them, and they wave back, and it's just the best thing ever. I keep on glancing at the DJ's back, with his "Mexico is the Shit!" shirt, and I think to myself, ya know what? I've never been, but, if this is any indication, then yeah I agree... Mexico is the shit!! :D


The Ixi-thingy

We've been driving along like that now, and I'm just taking in everything.. And everything is just so... beautiful. I'm crying again now, a little bit. A good cry this time. A completely happy cry. I am just... simply crying at beauty. I can't believe I'm standing here seeing all of this. I never knew... I had no idea that all this was waiting here for me, somewhere in my future. Back when I was a scared little boy, and coming out as gay in high school, and how terrible that had gone, and how I'd considered killing myself for a little while, to escape the pain. And then years later on, the pain of losing my big relationship, and then later losing my mom... and then eventually, getting sort of better, to the point of at least being numb again... but, just thinking that all the good things in my life must be over now. There is nothing new. I'm getting old and tired. I've had my shot at some things, and I lost. Nothing will surprise me anymore. Nothing will make me feel true wonder again. There will never be anything as good as that again. And here I am now... seeing all of this... And it's the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen. I'd forgotten. I had forgotten what this feeling felt like. I can't remember the last time that I'd felt this way. Just the... sheer AWE, and wonder, of Everything...

There is a bumper sticker that I saw, on one of the coffee registers at Center Camp, that I kept thinking about now. It said, "My religion? Non-denominational Awe." I'm nodding my head slowly to myself as I think about it. "Yeah, that. That's it..." I say, silently to the Universe. And I had forgotten. I had forgotten how to feel Awe. And I'm so, so sorry. I remember now. I promise I won't forget again.

And then I'm still crying a little bit, but still good cry. And it's peaceful. And I am thinking about all my various stories that I've had in my life. And noting that, sometimes I'd gotten stuck in them. That high school one, for example, I was stuck in for a good eight years after it happened. But then one day, it just simply fell away, and never mattered anymore, ever again. I am now stuck in, however, a different story. Stuck here from, depending on how you measure it, five to seven years. I don't want to be stuck here anymore. Can it, I wonder, just fall away, like the other one? Hmmm, let's think about that... What are the criteria?

I start to think about a friend of mine, from back 'home', in the Default World. We've grown close, and he's become very important to me, these last few years I've been in California. The particular aspect that I'm thinking about now though is, a few months ago, we were back home, and he was rather upset, and he was lamenting the fact that he was 26 years old, and he'd still never had even one relationship, and he feels himself getting older, and he's just so fucking lonely. And I totally commiserated with him about that. I was a late bloomer too. Didn't have my first relationship until I was 25. But I gave him advice about how everything can change in an instant, and you may have no idea what is still waiting for you, just around the corner.

And then... just like that, a few weeks later, all of a sudden he's found someone, and he's dating them, and he likes them very much. And I'm watching him, and seeing how happy he is. And it's lighting up my heart, and I am happy for him. It is wonderful to see him so happy. And I said to him sometime then... "Isn't it amazing that, you're 26 years old.." (I know.. :-P) "And yet, still there are new things that can surprise you?"

Little did he know, however, that while I am saying these words to him, I'm putting up a brave face. But, in my own head, I'm thinking, "Yeah, that's great... I remember what it was like to discover that and feel that way... But I'm FORTY FOUR now... And... nothing will be new. Nothing will surprise me anymore..."

Well... Here I am now though. And, a miracle happened. Because, lo and behold... I'm 44 years old... and isn't it amazing that there are all these new things that can still surprise me!


Hot on the heels of that one, I suddenly have another epiphany. All the burners talk to each other instantly. Why can't I talk to the burners? Well, it's because... I suddenly in that moment realize... it's that when I have been trying to work up the nerve to do so, what I have in my head, is to ask them who they "are", as in like, ask them who they are in the Default World. "Hi man, who are you? Tell me what you 'do for a living' so that I can define you that way!" That kind of bullshit. And not only that bullshit, but, I'm prepared to try to talk about myself that way. Like, "Hi! I do computer work for who gives a flying fuck, and here I have all this baggage I'm carrying around all the time, wanna talk about that? No, me fucking neither!"

No! Fuck all that shit, I FINALLY realize. No one wants that, not me, not them, that's not why we came here. We AAAAALLLLL came here to get rid of all that, and be absolutely nothing more than simply exactly what we want to be! In the RIGHT here, right now! And who the fuck am I right now? I am a fucking Coyote, and I am having the best fucking time of my entire life! Yes, I can work with that! :D Let allll of that other bullshit fall away, right here right now, you know you don't want it anyway, you tell yourself that every day! Do it! It's done.

I am suddenly a man possessed. I have a fire in my eyes and in my heart, and I can feel it. I see a guy across the platform, and he's wearing this kind of furry getup, red furry vest, red furry leggings, red tail. And his name was Erin. I think to myself, huh, I don't recognize him from the furry camps, but maybe he's a proto-furry, and doesn't even know it himself? I say, "Hi man, nice tail!" And instantly we're talking, and have a long conversation, that I won't belabor here, cause if you're not a furry, you probably wouldn't understand a lot of it. Doesn't matter. Point being, we're understanding each other, and talking the same language. And he says he's not sure if he's a furry, but he's thought about it, and he thinks of himself as a red panda, and says a bunch of other things that kind of only furries really say. And I tell him, "Hey man, that's cool, you don't need to be, you do whatever you feel is right for you. But, you say a lot of things that furries would understand, and feel free to come hang out with us sometime if you'd like to know more!" He is also a first time burner, like me, and we talk about that. And I tell him that he's literally the first random burner that I've struck up a conversation like this with, and we talk about that.

Cool. So simple. So easy. Just like that. Suddenly I have a new fucking super power. I move through the car easily now, making easy eye contact with everyone, bright smile, and I'm complimenting everyone I meet left and right, with whatever cool features they have that catch my eye, cause clearly they're proud of them too, and they want to show them off, that's why they have them, and it's nothing but smiles and hugs right back at me. Fucking A, this is awesome!

Then I see another guy across the middle deck of the car, and he's a little more subdued than most, but he seems fairly chill and at rest, and he has the look of an Observer. He Observes. He is Observing everyone. I'm an Observer, too. I Observe. Interesting. Let's see what he's about. He's wearing, like, a default world grey business suit, and his name was Walter.

I say hi and introduce myself, and I tell him that I'm a furry. You know, the people with the animal costumes. And I tell him that I'm a Coyote. And he says, "Oh, interesting! Ok, so, can you explain furry to me?" And I tell him, "Ok, so I've had conversations with non-furries about this, and I've tried to come up with good ways to help them understand. So for you, Walter, non-furry, it's like this. Furry is kind of a form of drag. It doesn't matter whatever you are on the outside. Furry is about taking something beautiful that you feel you are on the inside, and drawing it out for the whole world to see. And me, I feel like I am a big, bouncing cartoon coyote, so here it is!" And I tell him that, "When I was a little kid, my family moved around a whole lot, I was always the new kid, and I was always losing my old friends, and having to try to find new ones. But, no matter where I was, I always did have some friends that stayed with me. Who were always there for me. And those were the cartoon characters that I used to watch on tv. They were one of the few constants throughout my life. And they taught me how to live, how to love, how to be a good and kind person. And I loved them. And now I am one of them." Walter likes this, and thanks me, for his new view on furries.

We get to talking about why we are here. I tell him a little about my mom, and my five year journey here to put a picture of her in the Temple. And, about my recent epiphany, on this very art car, about experiencing Awe again. And at this, Walter looks a little bit sad, and wistful. And he says that's great.. And that he wishes he could feel Awe. But, he doesn't know how. Because nothing surprises him. Because, he says, he sees Everything.. all the time. Always. This is a very interesting statement to me. And, it feels a little familiar. I want to say something back to him. But, I'm considering what to say... Before, even a few hours ago, I probably would have fumbled some platitude or other. But here, I want to be honest, and with full immediacy. This is my new paradigm. So I hit on sympathy. I go with sympathy. I look into his eyes with compassion, lay my hand on his shoulder, and I tell him that, I wish I knew how to help him find Awe. But I don't. And, I'm sorry. He thanks me, and I can tell that it is heartfelt. I ask him to tell me a little bit more about "seeing everything." And he says to me, "Ok, so, there are three things that you can come to know in life, that are key." My eyes widen, and I get goosebumps a little bit. Cause, I feel that I am about to get some serious shit dropped on to me. I can just feel that Walter actually knows things. He is the real deal.

And he says to me, "Ok, first thing. You have to understand, that nothing is real..."

And I let his words sink in for a moment... and then clarity comes to my mind. My eyes focus, and I look directly into his. For now, I Recognize him. Now I know who he is.

Nothing is real. Yes. I know this already. Not "the United States". Not any country. Not a "week" composed of seven days. Not a category of living things called "trees". All of this is illusion. A socially agreed upon self-deception. It goes way beyond that. I don't have time to get into a whole discussion of it here, now. Either you already understand this, or you don't. But, if you don't, then you wouldn't BELIEVE the things that are not actually Real. But I do understand this. And I say to Walter, with conviction now, and clarity, right into his eyes, "Yes... I already know that. I think about that a lot." And then he looks at me with a little bit of a start, arches his eyebrow, and then I see him Recognize me. And now We each know who the other is.

"Perception is Reality," he says. "Perception is Reality," I agree.

"Ok, so what's the second thing?" I ask him, but, I already know where this is going.

"The second thing," he says, "is that, since nothing is real... Everything is real." I say, "Yes, I know that too. And the third thing?"

Walter says, "Because nothing is real, and therefore everything is real..."

"You can choose," I say. "You can choose," Walter agrees.

I have met another Coyote. That may not be his idiom for it, he may think of it as something else. But, that is what he is. Walter is a Coyote. We are now leaning on the guard rail of the deck together, looking out at the pilot fish, and the sculptures, and listening to the Sound, lightly leaned on each other, like old friends.

"You can shift reality, literally just by thinking about it," Walter says. I say, "Yup, I know. I just did it, in fact, a few minutes ago." Walter nods his assent, having heard my story. And Walter points out that some people can do it, and some people cannot. And I say, "Mmmhmm... And it's up to us to help them." And Walter looks at me, and smiles, and he says, "You know, that's pretty cool. First you told me you were a Coyote. And then, you Showed me you were one." I smile, and wink back at him.

I'm suddenly curious about something. "What do you call this? What is your idiom for it?" By which, I mean the Power.

"Time Bending," he says.

"Time Bending! Like Air Bending!" I say. "You're a Time Bender! Yeah, totally, got it, I like that. I call it Time Magic."

"Time Magic!" he says. "Yeah, awesome!"

The Ixi-whatsis has now stopped by the Tree. I nod in my satisfaction with everything. I hug Walter, and thank him, and tell him that I think it's time now that I'm on my way, off to new adventures. I get off the car, retrieve my bike, and leave.

Mexico is the Shit.


I'm standing out by the Tree. And, the Tree is... the Tree. If you were there, then you understand, and if you weren't, then I'm sorry for you. The Tree won fucking Burning Man.

Ok fine, here you go, here's a picture of the Tree. Like it matters.

"Its Chi is turned up to 11!" -Axio Wolf

So the Tree is being the Tree, and art cars are surrounding it, and their music is playing, and hundreds of people are dancing under and around it. And I'm thinking, what a wonderful place to be right now, after all these amazing things that have just been happening to me. A woman comes up behind me, gives me a pair of 3D glasses from a stack that she has, and tells me to put them on and look at the tree. And I think to myself, "Whaaat? Like the tree could be even more amazing??? Ok, let's see what this is about." So I put them on, and look at the Tree, and there's this kind of shimmering effect all around it, and I think, eh, ok, that's kind of neat. But, the Tree is just so amazingly spectacular on it's own, it doesn't really even need this. I turn away, back to the night, to look out at the horizon and start maybe picking out my next adventure.

Suddenly I stop short, cause I see that this guy standing a few feet away from me has this kind of, like, smiley face light that he's wearing, blinking on and off. I think, "Oh wow, look at that, that's pretty cool!" I take off the the 3D glasses, so that I can have a better look at it. When I look at him again, all I see is a regular plain old single led light...

What the fuck...

I put the glasses back on, and look at him again. The smiley face returns.

Wait... what the fuck..??

I take a slow turn all around me... and now I see, that every single light, every single one, on all of the hundreds of people all around me.. is now a bright shiny smiley face! I rip the glasses off of my face. All of the lights collapse back to their single point, non smiley sources. I slowly put the glasses back on... and it's smiley faces forever. The Tree itself was just too bright as a whole, and washed all the little individual faces out. It wasn't until I looked at other, more subdued lights, that I could see them.

And, the science-y part of my brain, a tiny voice now in the whole, has figured out and understood what has happened, how the trick works, but, it's a little too slow, and it's tapping on the shoulder of the rest of my brain in vain, which is rushing forward going WHAAAAAAAATTTTTT THE FUCK IS THIS THIS IS AMAZING I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD FUCKING DO THAT!!!! :D :D

I'm laughing. I'm crying. I'm surprised again.

And, I have now acquired another new power, as I slip this pair of glasses into my backpack. Going forward over the next few nights, I will occasionally walk up to random people, and strike up conversations by saying, "Hey... Wanna see a magic trick?"


I'm pedaling on my bike, away from the Tree now, looking for my next adventure. Off in the distance, I see the Mayan Warrior. The Mayan Warrior has more lasers than the Death Star. I'm about to go over there, thinking to check it out, when I happen to look above and behind me in the opposite direction. There is an aurora borealis in the sky. My mouth drops open, and a tiny "ohh..." escapes. I've always wanted to see one. But... It's kinda strange looking.. and moving weirdly. And.. I didn't think they happened this far south. I follow the light trails back up and over my head... and then I realize it's the Mayan Warrior... My hands come up to my forehead and I just start shaking it back and forth... I don't know if I can take much more of this, lol...

For as cool as the Mayan warrior looks, when you look towards it... when you look away from it, into the deep playa, into the night of the endless desert horizon... It looks like when David Bowman goes into the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey, and it's REALLY happening! You're really seeing it, right before your very eyes!

My God... It's full of stars!!!

I'm laughing again, tears are streaming down my face, and I'm pedaling as fast as I can, streaking into the void, chasing the aurora, shouting, "WHOOP WHOOP! HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWL!!!" Pounding my fist into the air...

The Mayan Warrior. Photo courtesy of Alexi Husky.

Eventually I come to a stop. Rest for a bit, panting, take some long sips from my water bottle, and try to take stock of where I am. I've gone out really deep now. There isn't anything close by me at all. Just the cool night, and the aurora overhead. I can see the City off in the distance, back in the direction from where I came. And I can hear the Sound. I have never gone this far out yet on my own. And, there really is nothing else out here.. Maybe It's time I started heading back. But then, waaaaaay off in the direction to oblivion that I had been heading, I see a tiny grouping of lights. Faint. Not very many. Not enough to be an art car... I don't think? But they're there.. some of them are moving a little bit. What is that?

I waver back and forth about going or not. Whatever it is, it can't be all that big or impressive. And, there's definitely a lot more going on, back towards the direction of the City. But still... what is it? In the end, I figure, I'm already out here, I may as well find out, rather than go back and never know, always be wondering. I've already been biking these past couple of days, to my surprise, way more than I ever thought I could, and it hasn't really been a problem at all. I decide to go for it. So then, I'm pedaling and pedaling. And, it doesn't seem like they, or it, the lights.. whatever it is, are getting any closer. They are so far, and the scale is so vast, that I cannot even tell how big or small they are. All I seem to be doing is getting further and further into Nothing. But, there's no turning back now, and this void must end eventually, right? I pedal for what seems like it must be ten or fifteen minutes. Until finally, the objects are getting closer to me, quicker and quicker and quicker, and suddenly I'm there! And it's this purple neon arrow, set on a pole, pointing down into the ground, and it's a group of other burners there, with their blinkey led lit bikes.

And I pull up, and all of them rush over to me, and surround me, and hug me, and are all like, "YAAAAAAAAAY, YOU MADE IT!" :D

And I'm like, "YAAAAAAAAY, I made it! :D What did I make it to?"

And I look over, and there is this barrier in front of me.. And I'm like, "Oh my god... that's the trash fence... is that the trash fence??" And they tell me that it is. And that's fucking crazy. Because I realize now, that I've made it out to the top point of the pentagon. The furthest point out in Black Rock City that you can possibly go. Me. Me, who a couple days ago, was afraid of going out too far, for fear of getting somehow stranded. Who wasn't even maybe going to take a bike originally, because that would just be too much. And now, I am out here. I made it all the way, on my own, by myself. Simply because I would not be deterred from seeing something interesting.

The trash fence looms over me, massive, at least two stories high. I want to go over and touch it. As I approach it though, I'm confused, it doesn't move right, the optics are somehow wrong.. And suddenly, I collide with this dinky little plastic mesh web, only barely waist high, supported by simple metal posts at regular intervals. I reach out over this, for what I thought had been the trash fence, and I grasp empty space. It takes me a minute for my eyes to adjust, and to understand what I'm actually seeing. What I thought at first had been the trash fence... was actually the pure, empty, raw, untouched horizon of the playa. Beyond the confines of Black Rock City. It is the flattest flat there ever was. it goes on forever, in every direction. It had created the illusion of a tall wall, in front of me. I am in Awe again.

Eventually the other Burners pedal off, and now I am alone. And I just am staring at the horizon for minutes, completely humbled. Finally, I decide that ok, it's time to head back now. But, before I do, one more thought takes hold of me. I look all around me, furtively. I suddenly have massive butterflies in my stomach. I am about to do something... that I know you're not supposed to do. But, I'm a Coyote. And I'm going to do it anyway.

I put one leg over the trash fence... and then the other. And now I am standing Outside. There is nothing here, but me... and Infinity.

I can do anything. If I want to.

I stand here for a minute...

And then... I get the FUCK back over the trash fence, and I run back over to my bike, and I pedal the fucking hell away from there, back towards the City, as fast as I can!


So now, I'm rushing back towards the City, and there is nothing all around me for a very long time. And now it's really late, and I'm getting really cold, and the city doesn't seem like it's getting any closer, and I feel like I just really need some way to warm myself up. A plume of fire suddenly billows up on the horizon. "Yup, that! That's what I need right now!" I think to myself. So I veer over towards that direction, and now I'm quite literally like a moth drawn to flame.

Finally I get to this new place, back on some far arc of the City's Esplanade that I had not explored before. It is this moderately sized sound / dance camp, and it's got huge plumes of fire that the DJ can control, as he spins. He's making quite liberal use of them, and their heat is warming me right up, all the way across the dance floor. At the edge of this place is a circular bar, and on the top of the circle of the bar, is a ring of actual fire, that goes all the way around it. The bartender is in the middle of this. The bartender is in the middle of the ring of fucking fire, and he is checking people ID's, and handing them drinks, right over the top of it. I need a clicker, to count how many times my jaw drops open that night.

I go up the fire bar, and wait to order a drink. And it takes kind of a long time for the bartender to get to me, but that is alright, because now I am totally warm, and, look how fucking cool this fire bar is! Finally the bartender gets to me, checks my ID (over the ring of fucking fire), and asks me what I want. "Something fruity, please!" I say. (Because that's what I am, and that's what I like!) He raises an eyebrow at me, traces his finger around the ring of fire, and he says, "Bro, do you see this? Does it look like we have fruity drinks here?" I cluck my tongue, purse my lips, and say, "Well... I see your point! Alright, what do you have?" He says, "You can have something greasy, or something smokey!"

Normally in drinks, these are things that I would hate. But, I am now suddenly very into investing and throwing myself into every little micro-world that I come accross out here. "Alright. How about something greasy and smokey?" He considers this, nods his head, takes my cup, pulls out several bottles of god knows what, mixes for awhile, tastes intermittently, considering, and finally hands it back to me. I take a swig, and it is indeed greasy, and smokey. I sip it slowly, staring into the flames... And, it is goddamned delicious.

And then I finish my drink. And I turn around, and there is Charlie the Unicorn, right behind me...


You know Charlie the Unicorn? This thing.

The Charlie the Unicorn videos were a staple of mirth at my apartment in Queens, when they first came out ten years ago. Well... Now I am standing out here at Burning Man... and there is a giant Charlie the Unicorn art car right behind me! And he breathes fire out of his horn! And all his, for lack of a better term, burner minions, all have bright colored unicorn horns on their head. And Charlie's sound system is great, his DJ is great, and they are having a rockin' dance party! I've just got to go over and dance with Charlie the Unicorn! :)


Charlie the Unicorn. Photo by Duncan Rawlinson, 2015

I'm dancing by Charlie the Unicorn, and all his little unicornlets. And it's not the kind of self-conscious dancing that a lot of people (especially nerdy white guys like me) are prone to, where you're all more worried about, like, do you look cool to the other people around you? And you've got your tongue stuck out a little bit, and you're just kind of, side to side a little bit, waving your fists up and down a bit, same thing over and over. No. This is dancing with abandon. Who cares what anyone else thinks? They're doing their own thing, and right now, you're just having a conversation between yourself and the DJ.

And I'm thinking about all the amazing things that I've seen tonight, all of the wonder. I'm crying a little bit still, here and there. But, it's all "good" cry.

A woman with a unicorn horn taps me on the shoulder, and her name was Allison. And she is sweet and kind as can be, and she asks me if I'm having a good time? She says, "We here at Charlie the Unicorn want everyone to have a wonderful time! So, have fun, make some friends. And, you can come up and dance on our art car if you like!"

(Two art cars??? The other day, I didn't know how to get on even one art car, and now I'm going to be on two??? And Charlie the Unicorn to boot!)

It occurs to me after a moment, that Allison may have come up to me, because maybe she'd seen me crying. I'm hit by another wave of love at just all of the easy empathy and compassion that there is at this place. I thank her again, and tell her that I've been having an incredible night! And that I've probably been crying a lot, but, it's just been from all the beautiful, amazing things. "Ohhh, Good Cry!" she says. "Well ok, that's great then!"

Then she tells me that, in a few minutes, Charlie is going to drive back over to the trash fence to watch the sun come up, and that I would be perfectly welcome to ride along with them if I like.

This sounds like a truly amazing opportunity! And, I've been meaning to stay up for a sunrise out here, but I hadn't quite gotten around to it yet. Now may be just the time! Still though, on the other hand.. I can see that, unlike the Ixi-thingy, Charlie can not take on bikes, and now I've got my bike out here, nowhere near my home camp. And I've just been out to the trash fence, I know just how crazily far away it is. I don't know that I'm up for biking all that way again myself, and then just to have to come all the way back again, this time in the hot sun, once it is up. Also on the other hand, if I leave my bike here and ride with them, then I am tied to them for as long as they stay out there, for there is no way I'm going to walk all the way in the sun back from the trash fence.

I fret for a moment, but then.. c'mon.. After everything that's happened, am I really not going to watch the sunrise with Charlie the Unicorn? Fuck no, of course I am! So, I chain up my bike wheels. It's the first time this week that I've locked my bike, actually. I take a good long triangulating look at where Center Camp is, where the Man is, and where this particular piece of art we're by is, so that I can come find it again later. I board the Charlie, and off we go, rocking out into the deep playa again.

And we're heading out there, and the sky on the horizon is clearly starting to brighten. And I can see that quite a few other art cars are also heading out that way, each with their schools of pilot fish. When a friend of mine, earlier in the week, had suggested to me that at some point, I should watch a sunrise on the playa, I don't know why I'd thought this, but, I had always pictured that it would be a very quiet, solitary affair. Like, maybe it would be a few lone adventurers at most, like that group that I'd met by the fence earlier, and it would be serene, silent. It dawns on me now however, as a veritable fleet of art cars, and their attendants, motor on out into the desert, that nope, that's not how we do things here at Burning Man! This is going to be a fucking sunrise PARTY!!!

And we all get out there, and the Sound is following us, and all the art cars park and kind of set up shop. All the people spill off of them, mixing with the pilot fish, and the DJ's have never stopped doing their thing, and so now it's all hundreds of people, having dance party by the trash fence! And the sky is getting lighter and lighter. The sun isn't visible yet, but it's bright enough that you can pretty much see all around you now. People are starting to turn off their personal lights, for being redundant. It's practically daylight, save for there not yet being a sun.

I just happen to have my head raised, looking at a certain part of the lightening sky, when all of a sudden... the BIGGEST shooting star that I have ever seen in my entire life suddenly appears in just exactly that spot, and it goes FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! It is long, slow, huge... not like the instant little pissant shooting stars you usually see. This one takes seconds, and it stays forever, and its fire trail is throwing off actual fucking RAINBOW colors. And, the top of my mouth curls into a smile, while the bottom half opens into this giant gaping OOOOOO...!!! And my arms drop out in front of me, with my palms turned up, and my fingers splayed wide, while my head shakes from side to side, and I'm just like, "MY... GOD..!!!!!!" And I think back, for a split second, to the Mayan Warrior and its aurora borealis, and I think, "Wow, Burning Man's special effects are just incredi- Wait... No... That was actual fucking NATURE, motherfucker! That just actually happened!! :D"

And I look around me, stuttering and spitting, looking for anyone else that might have seen it too, and no one but me fucking did, and then all of a sudden from way behind me, this one girl who's sitting by the trash fence calls out to me, "YEAH DUDE, I SAW IT TOO! I VALIDATE YOUR REALITY!!! :D"

And she's smoking a cigarette, and so well now, of course I have to go over and bum one and talk to her. And her name was Xy, like xylophone. Xy tells me that she's 24, and that this is her 17th burn. She's never missed a one since her first, except for one time, when she tried to move back with family to.. I think it was Shanghai.. But she didn't like it, and she regrets missing that one Burn, and now she's back. I tell her that I can totally understand, and I recount for her some of my experiences of the evening.

And then... over across the trash fence, the sun has appeared. Suddenly. Out of nowhere. It is already quite high in the sky. It becomes apparent that, out very far away in that direction, there must be a huge dust storm right now. The dust is acting sort of like how clouds normally would, blocking out most of the harsh light, but, it's very uniform in consistency, so it just blends in looking like early morning grey sky down to the horizon. So, the sun is there, just hanging in space. It is like a dark red paint blot. And you can look right at it. It looks like a native american painting or tapestry. And it's actually there.

And then there is a sharp "OHH!" from the gathered crowd, and people are looking up and pointing into the sky. And I look up, and a large cluster of sky divers have just jumped from a plane...

And then the people from Charlie the Unicorn, his music still playing, have brought out tables and a grill, and started cooking and serving grilled cheese sandwiches and coffee...

I'm crying again. I'm laughing again.


Finally I'm back on the Charlie bus. I've had my grilled cheese sandwich, I've seen my sunrise, I've danced my heart out. I've had a wonderful night. But, that sun is not going to be getting any cooler, quite the opposite, and, I think that I'm about ready to head home now and call it a night.

So I sit down on the upper deck and start to zonk out. But... the people outside are still going fairly strong... Surely, they will all be starting to feel the urgency of the situation too, and will not want to get caught out in the hot sun either? But, that is not happening, this party does not seem to be showing any signs of ending soon. I wait and wait and wait. And now I'm getting really tired, and a little irritated. (Irritated? After the whole night and everything that you just had?? Go fuck yourself, Coyote! How dare you?!) Yeah, I fucking know, but.. yeah.. Irritated. Come on already, let's get this show on the road.

I figure that, ok, maybe they'll be done when they run out of grilled cheese sandwiches to cook and give out. So I go look over the rail, down at the grill, to see when that might be. And, wow... there sure are a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches left on that table. This might still be awhile. I go sit down again and wait some more. A long time passes, and still no one's coming back to the bus. I get up and look down over at the grill table again, and it still looks just as full as before. And then I look to the right of it a little bit, and see something that I hadn't noticed before. Which is... this BOX! This, like, Costco sized box... of fucking bread and cheese! My eyes widen slowly and bug out of my head. They have a million grilled cheese. They have grilled cheese forever. And they are clearly not going to stop, until they have cooked the very last fucking one!

I bring my finger tips up to my temples, and now I'm feeling like I'm in trouble. I am picturing my bike, chained up waaaaaay back over at the City. And I'm thinking how long it took me to bike back over there from here, when I had it. And that was in the cool of night. The sun is already getting hot. I'm trapped here. (Hell no, you're not trapped here! Radical self-reliance, motherfucker! You can walk your bitch Coyote ass back to the city, if you really have to!) Ugh... yeah, ok, I guess I could, but... Ugh! That's sooooo far.. and it will be so hot. But, if I'm going to do that, then I'd better do it now, cause it's only just going to get worse and worse, the longer I wait. Or, I can just stay here and ride it out. They do have to leave too, eventually!

I decide not to walk, cause I've been out of water awhile ago, and to walk all the way would, now, actually be possibly dangerous. So I sit there and stew, and now I'm getting a little upset. And I'm pissed at myself for being upset. I'm like, Are you really gonna let this last little thing spoil everything else you've seen tonight? You're such a fucking asshole! I waver about trying to walk it a few more times.

And then I stop. And I calm myself down, and think. And I run through everything else that's happened to me tonight, in my mind. I run through the list of Burning Man's Principles. I consider the Sound, which I can still hear. And, I remember that I can Shift reality. And I think to myself, ok, there must be a third way. There must be something that I'm not considering here. Let's look at this again...

I could... walk all the way back to camp by myself, with no water, in the hot sun...

Or... I could sit here in the bus, stewing and being unhappy...

Orrrrrrrr... If my problem is that they're taking too long finishing with their grilled cheese sandwiches...

I could get up off my ass, go down there, and HELP THEM EAT MORE FUCKING GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES!!!

The solution is so painfully obvious now, that I smack myself in the forehead. And I get up from my seat, and I go down there, and I have myself another grilled cheese sandwich! And now I'm back in it! Now I'm back in the party groove! I've got my grilled cheese sandwich, and the DJ is still playing, and I'm dancing, eating grilled cheese on the playa! And I went looking for the coffee that was supposed to be around, but I couldn't seem to find that, that was gone, but, there sure was this open bar still going strong that they'd set up out there! So I had myself some drinks, and then some more grilled cheese sandwich, and I look at the box, is it empty yet? Nope? Oh well! Guess I'd better go have another sandwich then! And I must have gone up like four or five times, and then finally before you know it, they've run out at last, and now they're packing up, and then off we go back towards home! Riding in style, cool inside Charlie's shade, dancing to music, fed free hot breakfast, just having seen the most amazing sunrise ever... what a perfect night!


I get back to camp. It is quiet, everyone is still asleep. I crash in my own tent and sleep for a few hours. When I get up, I head over to lost and found to check for my phone, see if it's been found yet. It has not, but, it's only been since last night, and, I honestly truly do not even care at all at this point. It's totally whatever. I go out from Center Camp towards the Man, triangulate on the sculptures I'd memorized from last night. I spot what I think is the one where I'd left my bike. I head over to it, and my bike is still there, safe and sound. No problem at all. I unlock it... and head out again for even more adventures.

The playa provides.

Burning Man

Sep. 6th, 2017 10:54 am
quentincoyote: (Default)
So, I have just gotten back from Burning Man. I am exhausted, and I have a lot to catch up on. But, I am going to repost a letter here, which I wrote to my camp mates, by way of trying to explain the experience that I have just had. Apologies for the rushedness. Suffice to say though, everything is different today, and, this is my first meager attempt to share it with others.

Incidentally, for context, "Fuck your burn!" is a term of endearment between Burners. So, here we go...


I have been on a five year journey trying to come to Burning Man.

My journey started in 2012, when my mother died. She did not go quickly, and she did not go easily. I was still living in the NYC area at the time, and there came a point where... my whole life just kind of fell apart. There were more things as well, that I will not belabor here anymore, but, all in all, it became a sustained very dark time, bam, bam, bam, one thing after another.

And then my mother died.

My mother passing was the last and biggest straw that just broke me. I needed to get away from New York. I needed a way out, something new, some kind of way to find a new life and start all over again.

Around the same time that my mother passed, is when I first heard about Burning Man. I stumbled across an online article about it somewhere, and in particular, a thing that caught my eye about it, was the Temple. That sounded like a really amazing place, and something that I needed to see. I decided that, somehow, some way, I needed to get to burning man one day, and put a picture of my mother in the Temple. I knew that it would not be easy, and the path was not clear. But, this journey that I set for myself, would be how I could release my pain, and honor her - the kindest, sweetest, strongest, most amazing woman that I have ever known. It's taken me a very long time to get here. It took me five years.

Along the way, I moved myself out to the SF Bay area. I'd already been planning to do that for awhile anyway, since at least 2010, for some of the above other reasons (and more positive ones, too.) But, always, somewhere in the back of my mind, there was this culminating end goal of Burning Man and the Temple. I had many adventures along the way. And there have been many wonderful times. I landed in the Bay on Gay Pride weekend of 2013, and in general, the overall trend has been steadily up and up. I have made many fantastic friends, who I would go to the ends of the earth for. (Zarafa is one who I will in particular call out, as I met him early on in my journey out west, and he and I have had many conversations about Burning Man over the years.) I live in a great house in South Bay, with four of the best friends and roommates a person could ever ask for. We throw great parties (if I do say so myself. ^.^), and just overall, life had been pretty good and happy again.

But still.. the hard truth, that I can finally admit and give voice to, is that I have been a broken person...

Why broken? Well, in life, whenever you meet someone new, what do you do to get to know each other? You ask them to tell a story about themselves, about who they are. Of course though, you have to give back too, and tell a story about yourself. And therein lies the rub. For the past... five to seven years now, I have not liked my own story. For what was my story? My story was... everything was awesome, and I was king furry of New York. And then... my boyfriend of three years, my almost husband, left me for a mutual friend, my house got robbed by a different friend, whom I had once taken in off the street when his family kicked him out, my social circle fell apart... And then my mom died. And I tried to move to California to make things better, but that was a struggle too, and oh yeah by the way, my cat died not long after I landed (I put a picture of him in the Temple, too), and yeah ok, things are maybe kinda better now, but, still I've only just been trying to recover to a point that sort of maybe looks almost, but not quite, like a place I used to be before. It's still not the high heights I used to think that I was at. And beside all of that.. I'm 44 years old now. I'm kind of over the hill. My shot that I thought I had at love has come and gone, I thought nothing will feel again like that did when it was good. I feel rejected and afraid of opening up to people, because of the collapse of my relationship, and because of the betrayal of a friend, and, I'm terrified and alone, because I lost my mother. And.. I've pretty much seen it all by now. Nothing is going to surprise me anymore, it's just all downhill from here...

And that... is a fucking shitty story. I do not like it, I do not like telling it, I certainly don't like living it, and I dread it, whenever I meet someone new, and they're going to ask me who I am, and this is the fuck all that I have to answer that question with. I'm an intelligent person, and I can fake it reasonably well, but, that's what's been there, always boiling under the surface, and I'm terrified that they're going to look deep into my eyes, and see past the facade, and recoil from me at monster they see underneath...

But then... I made it to Burning Man...

I made it. I got here... And I had the most amazing time of my life! Better than anything I've ever seen before, better than anything I could have ever conceived. I had no idea... I had no idea, that all of this was always out here, just waiting for me. I had no idea anything could be so beautiful... I'm surprised. I've been surprised again.. I've spent the past week with my jaw on the floor, laughing and crying at beautiful things... I had forgotten what it was like to feel this way. I had a whole long night of experience and epiphany, on Wednesday night in particular, that I will probably get around to explaining in detail later, in a some separate post. But for now, just... I had. No. Idea.

And the Temple. I'll talk about things that happened to me in the Temple a lot more later, too. But, yes... On Thursday night.. I brought mom to the Temple. I put her there. I did it. Five years later.. I finally brought her Home.

And now, already... everything is different. The whole world is different. Because, my story is already different. Because, now my story is... All of those things above happened before, yes... And then, I went to Burning man, and I learned that I could still be surprised again. I learned that there are more things that I never even knew could make me cry with their beauty. And I know now, that this is isn't even close to the end anymore. This is just the beginning! And that is a great fucking story! That is a story that I will tell all day!

Hearing about last year's incarnation of the TransFoamation cleansing event, I had been told that, one of the things that you had to do before going in, was to confess a Sin. They actually didn't do that part this year when I went to it Thursday morning, but, I had been thinking about it very hard, and, I knew what the Sin would be that I would confess. So, here it is now:

My Sin is... that I had forgotten how to feel Awe. And I'm so fucking sorry... I will not forget it again, ever. I promise.


I will tell two more short stories, that directly follow from all of this.

So as some of you may know, I lost my cell phone Wednesday night (and, that's actually a good thing! It was the start of everything else. But, I'll get into all that another time.) Anyway, so on Sunday, before the Temple burn, I was standing in line at the lost and found, waiting to see if maybe it had turned up there. (It had not. As it turns out, some people from camp Sake II Me found it, and I have it back, now. Not important! Still I was waiting in this line...) So anyway, I'm waiting in line there for a long time, and so I get to talking to these two other Burners in front of me. And among other things, we talk about our stories of how we first came to burning man. And, I told them my story. Of my mother, and all of that. And, of course I had been thinking about it all for days, of what it meant to finally be here. And another wave of inspiration hit me, right then and there. And as I ended the story, what I said to them was, that next year, when I hopefully don't have anything else that I personally need to put in the Temple myself... I am going to volunteer to be a Temple Guardian.

Because, I am. That's what I have decided. From here on out, this is my Burning Man Calling. I know this to be true, just as much as I know that I am a Coyote. (Just wait until I get into my Temple stories...) And I said as much to them.

So, the line proceeds on, and I get to the front, and the other two burners I was talking to go on their way to look for their items. And then, this woman who has been standing behind me the whole time, puts her hand on my shoulder, and talks to me. And her name was Lula Mae. And she said to me, that she had listened to my story about my mother, and my journey here. And she's crying. And she told me that, she herself had just lost her own mother a couple of months ago. And she thought it was really so beautiful, what I was doing. And she raised her arm, and took off this bracelet she was wearing, which she gave to me, which she said was from her mother's memorial service. It has a little pendant on it, which says, "A piece of my heart is in heaven." And she said that she knew she'd kept it for a reason. She wanted me to have it now. I have it here with me.

And I hugged her tight, and told her that I was so sorry for her loss. And I thanked her, and told her that I would honor this gift, always. It is too small for my wrist, but, I think that I will get a chain for it, and make it into a necklace. I told her that, after this, I was going to go over and talk to the Temple Guardians right now to volunteer. And so I did.

After talking to the Temple Guardians, I came back to Center Camp to get a coffee, feeling happy and serene as you please. Got into a conversation with the nice lady serving it, when she asked what brought me here, told her a third, even more brief, but just as heart felt, version of this story again. Her eyes lit up, and she thought it was just so wonderful what I was doing. And when I told her that I was so happy to have finally brought my mother here, to have finally brought her home, she said to me, "You know what... I think that she's always been here. And she's just been waiting for you to finally get here, too. She must be like, 'What took you so long?'" :)

*smiles...* I think she's right.


Second story following from this. So on Saturday night after the Man burn, I was wandering around the City with my friend Amenophis. And at one point, we came across this little phone booth set up on the Esplanade. And on it, it says, "Talk to God." Amenophis recognized this and said, though he had never tried it, it was a fairly famous staple for Burning Man. So ok, that sounded interesting, I was going to try it.

Not exactly sure what was going to happen. Like.. it is some kind of pre-recorded audio art piece, or what? So I go up and look at the thing, and there are instructions: 1) step on platform. 2) phone will ring. 3) Pick up phone, talk to God.

So, I step on the thing, and after a few seconds, the phone rings. I pick it up...

Me: ...Hello?
Phone: [a woman's voice speaks] Hello my child, this is God!
Me: Oh..! Um... hello God, how are you doing?
God: I'm just fine my child, thanks for asking! How are you doing?
Me: Oh I'm ah.. doing just fine, thank you!
God: Wonderful! Tell me my child, what is your name?
Me: My name is Quentin.
God: Hello Quentin, nice to meet you! Now tell me. Do you have any questions for God?
Me: Oh..! Umm... hmmm... ...
Me: Well... you know what, at the beginning of the week I did, but, at this point, all of the really pressing ones, for the moment anyway, have been pretty well answered for the most part I think, so nah... I think I'm good. :)
God: Oh..! Well... Shit!
Me: I KNOW, right??? :D
God: My child, you don't need God's help, you're doing just fine on your own! That's wonderful, keep up the good work! :D
Me: Aw thanks God, I will! And by the way, thank you for doing all of this, you're awesome!
God: Thank you Quentin, you're awesome too!
Me: Ok, I'm gonna hang up now, and then my friend is going to talk to you, ok?
God Ok!
Me: Ok, I love you bye bye!
God: I love you too, bye bye!
Me: Fuck your burn! :D
quentincoyote: (Default)
*taps microphone* Is this thing on? Tell me if you can see me! :3
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
So, with this whole russian thing, I am considering nuking my journal as well. I'm a bit torn, since all my friends that are still here are, well.. still here.

And, just when I'd kinda gotten back into writing again. (I know, I sort of stopped three quarters of the way through a story. Funny thing is, I was using that, as I often do, to work out my pain. Thing is, I wrote all that, and it worked, my pain got worked out, but it happened before I got to wrap the whole thing up into a nice little bow. And I kinda felt like I just would rather move on to something else, than polish up a past I was done with, anyway. But, I digress...

But, where to move to? For those times that I do want to write long form again. FA? Eh.. I have a hard time with the social networking aspect of that.. I wish there was a way there that you could separate who you want to watch for Art, and who you want to watch for Journals, instead of just lumping everything in together that way. Maybe, this Dreamwidth thing I'm hearing about, by some of the creators of the original LJ? I dunno, what does anyone (that's still here and reading this) think?

Anyway, just wanted to at least put this here lest you wander why even this maybe goes poof suddenly.
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
Thank you all for your nice comments, both here and elsewhere. Been taking a writing break for Christmas and New Years, will look to get back to it again soon.

Keep vigilant, there's still one more day to go!
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
"...it was that very act of chanting it, in which grace and eventual nihil would be attained..."


So now here, we continue with the part about me trying to find work, and generally make my move permanent. I find it a bit difficult to start writing this section again because, after the catharsis of the last two entries, I do have to go to a dark headspace again to get it all out. After the initial honeymoon period, things actually did get pretty bad again for a little while. But, that's not where I am now! I'm in a good place.. So, if I can ask you to bear with me through some more pain for just a little while longer, I promise that this story does have a happy ending.

...as The Last Unicorn comes rising into my mind, to insistently remind me of what I already know, "There are no happy endings... because nothing ever ends!"

Shhhshhh! Quiet, you! I know that, I'm just trying to tell a story here. And the Story, and the Telling of it, is Everything. This one, at long last again, is a good one.

So, let's get back down into the shit again for it for awhile, shall we?


So... after a several long month euphoria of my being in The Bay finally starts to settle down, I do start to get serious again, and I am acutely aware that I am on borrowed time. Maybe a fair amount of time, even, but, certainly not forever. The money that I have left saved up is a finite resource, and it is slowly, slowly draining away... I figure that, at my current rate of expenditure, I maybe have about two years of runway in front of me, before I am absolutely and completely fucking broke, with nothing but the clothes on my back, my roomful or so of possessions, and all alone, with very few people that I know well enough that I think I could truly count on, in a dire emergency. Maybe that still sounds like a lot of time, but.. I lived through 9/11 in NYC, having recently lost my job at the time shortly before it, and, it took me more than a year of searching to find my next one there after that. Special extenuating circumstances, to be sure. But, that year, and my slowly mounting debt, really did put the terror of long-term unemployment into me. So, now I needed to get up off my ass, get a job, and my own place.

And besides, as regards to my friends that I was staying with, they have their own problems to deal with anyway, I don't need to be an extra intransigent burden to them, that is not who I am... (Remember, my whole sense of Self, and my Story, is still very fragile at this point. The couch-living bum-friend is just absolutely not something that I could tolerate to be. That would have been just yet another poisonous appendation to the whole "How are you / who are you? - boyfriend left / mom died / old washed up has-been / don't know who I am anymore / but now I'm that friend that lives on the couch" thing...)

It is not enough to just simply be here. The whole, holistic thing must be fixed. I am a strong, independent Coyote, and I must be self-sufficient. I must have my own place. And besides, I fucking miss Benny, who has been away from me now for three or four months, longer than we've ever been apart in our lives, ever since I found him in a tree in Queens back in 2004. If for nothing else at all, I need to get my own place, that allows pets, just so that I can get him back, I need him for my own sanity as well, besides just having my own place to call Mine.

My current (at this moment) housing situation aside, I have dealt with and had very bad experiences with private landlords before, and so decided that I very much prefer the corporate ones, who just want my check, will allow me my pet for an extra $50 bucks, will actually get things fixed when they need to be, and will otherwise leave me the ever living fuck alone about what I do within my own walls, or when, or with whom. So, after a couple of weeks of very thorough searching of various sites around the bay, I found and rented for myself a pretty nice one-bedroom apartment, in an Avalon complex in Union City. (There seemed to be a poetic symmetry there - my last, previous apartment was in an Avalon complex in Union City NJ!) Anyway, it was very nice, there was a swimming pool, and I even had my own little quiet private balcony on the top floor, overlooking the inner courtyard. Not the cheapest situation, to be sure. But, still more affordable than some other not nearly as nice places, in other parts of the bay. And yes, it would be shortening my above mentioned runway a bit more.. But again, we are fighting for the Healed Whole. I cannot be Alone, so physically and mentally, and be in squalor. We have to pick and choose our battles, and claim little victories along the way, progress inch by inch. It was a bit of a gamble, but for better or worse, I chose to claim that one. And now, also thanks to this, I was about to get Benny back with me.


For the last ten years, Benny had been my Familiar. My Golden Compass animal soul. The story of how I found him... how we found each other, for truly in fact, he called to me... Is chronicled here, here, and here.

 photo benny.jpg
Benny comes home in Queens

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Benny in a box! Held by my friend Satunian.

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Bath time!

 photo 8334031E-2172-4CBD-8F60-9389514658FD.jpg
I mean, some of you guys like shaved pussy...>.>

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What better place than here, from which to lick your head constantly non stop for hours, when you sit here?

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Ah, I see the family resemblance!

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A boy and his cat.

Benny was literally a piece of me. I have had pets before, and loved them very much, but I've never had a bond with an animal like that before. He followed me everywhere, everywhere I went, always. He never wanted to not be in my arms, being held by me. He rode around on my shoulders on command. In fact, it was him doing that when we first met, on his own initiation, that his how he claimed me and melted my heart forever, in the first place. He loved belly rubs. What other cat tolerates, much less loves, belly rubs?! He played fetch! By this I mean, I had a little rubber super ball I got for him; I would throw it, he would tear off scrambling away after it, catch it, bring it back to me, drop it right at my feet, and start MEOW MEOW MEOWING at me, until I threw it for him again! I've got a cat that fucking plays fetch! How amazing is that?! :) And, I remember his little triple hop-jump, that he would always do from the floor, to my knee, up to my chest, and plant his forehead right under my chin, give a little *huff*, and start nuzzling me and purring forever. That little jump like a fingerprint, a signature unique to him, always identical every day for 10 years. I still feel it like a muscle memory sometimes, when I sit down in my chair...


So, I've got my apartment now, I drive back up through the redwoods to Eureka one day, and go to retrieve Benny. Strangely, he doesn't come to me right away when I get there.. [huh, that's odd..] and I have to chase him around a little bit to pick him up, like he's not aware of me or something. But, after a moment when I finally have him in my arms, it's like... this whole wave just comes over his body, he completely relaxes, and he's nuzzling and purring so hard again into my neck, it's like we'd never left at all.

I bring him back home to Union City. Awesome! Home, get. Cat, get. Bay, get! Time now to look for a new job.


This is very hard, apparently.

So... I don't know if you've ever watched the HBO show, "Silicon Valley". But, it is absolutely 100 percent accurate to how a lot of living in the bay as a tech person is like, with very little extra caricature for humor even needed. I'm sure that that show practically wrote itself. In fact, a number of my friends here had a very difficult time watching it, for just how painfully true to life it was for them. It's kind of fucking hilarious. But, here's the thing.. It's all very true to life - if you're from Linux land. And, I am not from Linux land, I am from Windows land. I'm sure that there are Linux jobs all around in other parts of the country. (I wouldn't know, I didn't have to, look.) On the east coast and elsewhere, There's Windows jobs practically falling into your lap all over the place. But out here, in this very weird little bizarro reality bubble, that script is flipped, and there's some Windows jobs, but otherwise, it's Linux Linux Linux all over the place! And programming, specifically. Whereas, I'm more of a scripting, and sysadmin sort of guy.

And also, in kind of a particular thing, called "Application Packaging". Basically, you know how when, you install a piece of software, and it goes, Hi! I'm such and such program! Where do you want me, what options do you want, etc? So, somewhere at the company that made that piece of software, there lives an Application Packager who put that thing together for you, making sure that all the files and registry entries get where they need to go, and mix and matching all the features, depending upon what input you give it there. In larger corporations, which ingest many different types of software, and have thousands of users for whom this all needs to get installed to, there also lives a kind of equal but opposite Application Packager. Those Packagers will pick these things all apart again, massage them to the specs of what the corporation actually wants, rather than to the many assumptions often imposed by the original packager, and send them out automatically over the network to all the users, so that all they notice is "Oh hey! I've suddenly got a new icon! Cool!"

There is a lot of finesse and art to this, as every single package from a different source is kind of like it's own little puzzle box, that you have to tease apart, and figure out all of it's own little tricks and idiosyncrasies. It was the latter type of Application Packager that I was in NYC. And, it did very very well for me. I was making over 100K a year, and that's not even counting my yearly bonus, stock options, benefits, etc.

Now.. for the Bay, in many circles, that kind of range could maybe be considered average.. Those sorts of Linux people that I mentioned can command far, far more. Way out of my league. And, there did not seem to be nearly as many of my sorts of jobs out here, as there were back east, anyway. Plus... Though I had gotten very good at what I do, it is a fact that... My company hadn't really changed how we'd done things for the entire seven or eight years that I was there, and, there was a good deal of technology that had moved on, and I had not yet.. For the simple fact, and it's not a great one, that I had not been forced to.

Now. I am very, very good, if I have a need, of taking some new thing that I don't know and have never seen before, reading its manuals, playing with it, figuring it out, and pretty quickly gaining a usefully functional mastery of it.

For example: One day during this early time at the new Union City apartment, I landed an interview with Dell, to become basically the technical lead of their whole global imaging unit. (Dell! That would be amazing. That would totally be the kind of Bay Area job that I would love, and would suit me! :D) As it turned out though, they wanted someone who did not only Application Packaging, but, also MDT (Microsoft Deployment Toolkit), which, basically does what I do with applications, except it does it for the whole Windows operating system. Need 20 or 200 or 2000 new computers, fresh from the factory, to get all loaded up with Windows and ready to go? This is the tool that's going to do it for you. But, I didn't know MDT at all. I'd never used it, never seen it. I'd never had to. That was some other guy's job, in my old company.

Now, fast forward to later on here, when I did finally land the job that I have now. When I first got there, one of the things they asked me was, what can I do to help them with imaging their new computers? They were still using Imagex, a very old and outdated disk sector cloning program, or else, just installing them all by hand. So I said to them... "Well, have you heard about MDT? It's really all the rage these days for this kind of thing, don't you know?"

So I sat down, downloaded the software myself, read all the manuals and various help blogs I could find. And, within less than two months, I went from knowing absolutely nothing about it, to standing up two servers for it, had the whole thing running from soup to nuts, at both our east and west coast offices. And we could blast out a hundred new machines in less than an hour with this, just as easily as we could a single one, no matter the make or model. Just choose a page or two of options I set up, push the button, and less than an hour later, they'd all be fully installed and configured, joined to the network, and ready to hand right over to the users. The company loved what I did so much, that they then asked me to demo it and build the same thing for one of their subsidiaries that they owned.

While I was there doing that, I soon noticed that, hey, why the hell are we never getting windows patches on our machines, what is up with that? And they, like, had no clue. I did some poking around, and discovered that someone, way back in the day had sort of set up WSUS patching server, way back in their XP days, left it on autopilot, and never looked at it since. It wasn't even collecting Windows 7 patches at all, much less anything else, and that person was long gone. Same thing with Group Policy. Who maintains it? Why is it doing this and this, not that and that? "Uhhhhh... We don't know!" Ok, so I'd never touched any of those things either, but, I then read those manuals, pretty much redesigned all of that shit for them from the ground up, and now I'm the person that knows the most about it in the company, and anytime someone has a question about it or needs help to do something with it, they come to me.

Because that's who the fuck I am.

But, I am getting a little ahead of myself here...


But... Learning new things like that *does* take time and effort. And back when I was job hunting, I kept on running into all kinds of new things that I'd never heard of or used before, that the jobs simply had to have. Never quite found just the pure same niche as what I'd been in before. But hey, you know, that's ok, I'm adaptable, and I can learn, obviously. But, there's so much, that it was hard to know *which* particular new thing to focus on first, and try to learn. And very nerve wracking, when you're still feeling the time counting down, and your money going away, and you're trying to look for work, and also trying to teach yourself new things, and still not drive yourself crazy by staying alone in your own apartment the whole time. But, every time you *do* go out and do something, that is more money that you're spending, and, well shit, you just got this new call for a new interview tomorrow, and you've made *some* progress on the new thing you're trying to learn that they want, but, you're not quite there *yet*, and you're fucking hyperventilating panicking about what are they going to ask you, will it be *this* will it be *that*, which should you study? And whoops, you didn't get it, cause they did find something to ask that you didn't learn yet, and wasn't that a completely embarrassing and humiliating call, and don't you *totally* want to do another one again somewhere else a couple of days from now? Well, that's geat! Cause, you're going to have to, only this time, it's going to be about some completely different other thing that you've not quite halfway really learned yet, so better drop what you were doing with this first thing, and switch to that one instead right quick, eh?!


It's demoralizing. It's humiliating. And it really starts eating back all over again at the story of "How are you doing, who are you?" I mean, there were some days and weeks where I literally never left my apartment, because, first of all, doing so is spending money, and second, during the day, I would look for work. That was my "Job" Then in the evening, I would put that aside, and turn to studying new tech. Nervous, not just about figuring it out, but, also am I even studying the *right* tech, and that flip flops from day to day based on some new job interview dangled in front of my nose, that often doesn't even materialize anyway..

Oh yeah, did you fucking know that there are also JOB SEEKING SCAMS now??? Like, right up there with Nigerian Prince, who will give you millions of dollars, if you will only give him a thousand right now so he can fix his bank shit. Right up with "Hi I'm from 'Windows Tech Support', the internet has told us you have a virus, so here please install this actual virus from us right now, so that we can help ourselves to all your shit."

Along with those, there is now also the job seeking scam, where some guy named Bob or Joe from India (spoilers, preeeeeety sure their names are not Bob or Joe, but much more likely something like Ramananthapanthabanannafannafofansakaalimassishkadoodldeefjalskdfjalskdjflaskdjf*&%$. Sorry if that's racist, but no seriously FUCK those guys that do this..) So they'll have found a (possibly even real, somewhere) job in the Bay Area, and will purport to be a recruiting agency for them, trying to fill it. But as it turns out, all they really want is for you to give them your social security number, and various other bits of information like that, and, they are so so sorry, but they just cannot forward you as a candidate to the job in question, until you give them those things. At least, this is eventually what you glean, through all the horribly mangled broken english, that no self respecting tech company would actually ever allow to represent them if they were trying to find *competency*. Eventually, you can sniff these guys out right away, but at first I was just completely... SHOCKED that this was actually a fucking thing. Man... I'm just trying to find a fucking job. I just want to job, so that I can survive, so that I can live, so that I can rebuild my life. And I have to deal with all of that above stuff making it as hard as it already is, and now on top of it, I have to watch out for these vultures circling the pit on top of everything else.

"How am I doing?"

Well, you moved here, and that's great, but, your boyfrie- "You know what, fuck that guy, that's SOO old news now, whatever." Yeah ok well fine, but your MOM died... "... *head desks, sobbing...*" ...and you're here, all by yourself.

And you can't find a job. You're a failure, you can't actually hack it, not here, not with these people. In fact, in a way, you're only actually here *because* your mom died, if you think about it. And, you're all alone... Ok, sure.. you're kinda starting to make some new friends a little bit. When you do actually leave your apartment.. But, they're new.. delicate. Superficial, if maybe only just for now. None of them really know you. And, how are they going to get to? What are you going to tell them about who you are... Cause, see THIS *waves at these things*? This is what you got right now to try to do that with. And this is a FUCKING shit show...


I hate talking about myself. When the fuck, how the fuck did that happen? It's like I don't even know how to anymore...

"Hi, my name is Quentin... But enough about me! How are you, what's your story???" *sweat beading on my forehead...*

At least I have Benny...


So that's all going on. There was a reprieve for a little while, when my old company back east called me and said, essentially, hey man, we really miss you and need you, do you possibly think that we could bring you back on as a consultant, and you can totally do what you were doing for us before, remotely right from your own apartment there?


So... that happened.. and.. it was good.. Stopped the bleeding of money, certainly, and, for being a Consultant, I was actually making *even more* money than I ever had in my life before..

BUT..! It is not a tenable solution. First of all, for being a consultant instead of an employee, it can end at any moment (spoilers, it did a few months later, when the company got bought out by a different one, and they immediately fired all of the consultants. And, incidentally by the way, when they did get bought, their stock suddenly skyrocketed through the roof. All of my stock that I had from my eight years of working there had never been worth anything, cause the price had always gone lower after I'd received it. When I'd left the company, rather than paying out of pocket to keep it, I relinquished it. But now... Through the roof. If I had stayed just one year longer as an actual employee and been able to keep it.. I would now have a couple hundred thousand more dollars, which I do not, at all.) *sucks teeth* But anyway...

As I was saying.. it is not a tenable solution. It can end at any moment. And.. It is still making me stay in my apartment all day. (Working from home sounds great, on paper. And it is, if you only do it a day or two. It's kinda shit though, I think, on a permanent basis.) And, it is of.. "Over There", it is not of "Over Here". It is retro. Looking back to the past. Not moving forward into the future.

So now, I was staying in my apartment all day. Doing a real job. At the same time, trying to look for new work. At the same time, trying to study and learn new things. At the same time, trying to have a social life. Let's not talk about me, let's talk about you.

Meanwhile, Benny has started doing this strange thing lately, where he.. basically keeps circling the whole entirety of the apartment in a slow walk, keeping close to the walls. He does this more or less continually, so there there is a like clockwork intoning of "boiyoiyoinnngg!" as he hits and flips back those little springy door stops things that are at the base of a couple of the doors. Also, he is starting to make a habit of going right up to, but not quite going in the litter box to do his business. Cleaning up his mess is becoming a thing that I have to do now at least several times a week. He never used to have to do this before. I am already frustrated and depressed, and this is just yet another thing that I'm hating to have to deal with. But, I love him to death, and I figure, maybe it is all just the trauma of the move across the country, and being away from me with those strangers for so long..

My previously mentioned new local three-month boyfriend one day suggests, "..is he blind?"


Blind.. is he? That might make sense... That would explain why he keeps on running into those door stoppers, and even pacing the wall at all. He's trying to understand where he is.. And that would explain why he keeps on missing the litter box now. And.. why he didn't seem to recognize me at all when I picked him back up in Eureka, until I actually held him. I look at and take close notice now of his eyes, very carefully. His pupils are actually dilated like huge round saucers... not at all like the vertical slits you'd expect from normal cat eyes. Blind..? Yes, maybe.. But, how? When? Why?

He was jumping up on the dining room table at my Dad's place before we left there six months ago, and that was a new place to him, and he didn't seem to have any trouble getting around then.. Come to think of it though.. He was missing the litter box every now and again, after we landed in South City..

I take him to this veterinarian a few blocks away from my apartment. The vet that I am assigned is named.. Jill or Jen, or something. I instantly don't like her. She is obsequious as hell, fake and phony, and she speaks in this word salad that uses a lot of big sounding words, but is often kind of grammatically fucked, and does't really actually mean anything. A kinder, gentler Sarah Palin. But I'm here, so let's do this. I tell her my concerns. She says ok, well we're going to take his eyeball pressure and blah blah something...

I say blah blah blah, not because that's the word salad part. I say it because, she puts this tool of some sort, that actually is in fact designed to take a pet's eyeball pressure, puts it right up against each eye, looks at whatever readout it tells her, and pronounces "Nope, it's ok, he's totally fine!"

And I now know, later, that is is VERY MUCH NOT FUCKING FINE. IT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT FUCKING FINE IN THE SLIGHTEST, AND IT IS EVEN WAY WORSE THAN THAT!!! And we are right back very much now to the territory of medical fucking INCOMPETENCE, which happened with my mom, and the other half of THAT story, which I did NOT fucking tell, because of the absolute sheer fucking horror of it, and because I did not want for that to be the story that I told of my mom...

But here we are all over again, and this fucking bitch says that Benny is fine. What do I know? She's the expert right? Listen to your goddamned feelings more often, Coyote... But, still I take him home, somewhat relieved... After, that is, they have made me wait in the office for fully an additional half hour, for some reason, for the discharge paperwork, and meanwhile Benny, unhappy and wailing about being here in his cat bag for so long, has shit himself with diarrhea...

I take him home, clean him up, and nuzzle with him on the couch for the rest of the night.


So that's a thing. I'm still looking for new work, but, actually working, and, Benny is supposedly ok.

Then all of a sudden, a possible breakthrough occurs. I have been in touch with a friend here (since then moved away), who works at this awesome local internet tech company, with like, a bazillion other furries. No really, I've lost count at this point, but, I think it's really seriously something like forty other furries that work there right now. And it's high tech for real Silicon Valley type stuff. This would be an amazing dream job place for me to work at! And, as it turns out, they just so happen to need.. an Application Packager...

Now, the thing is, what they need is a Linux Application Packager, not per se a Windows Application Packager. And, in fact, they say to me, upon looking at my resume, that if they were remotely in that space, then they would pretty much hire me on the spot. But still, what they are really looking for, are people that can think and work in a certain way, and so, they are willing to give me a shot. They will give me a few weeks to see what I can learn on my own, and then they will test me. My one friend there that put me on to this give me a book on Python, a scripting/programming language that is commonly used in Linux.

Have I mentioned that I have never touched a bit of Python in my life? I think that I had not even heard of it before then, actually. I certainly had never done any Linux. I sort of maybe remembered a bit how to navigate the shell in Unix, from 20 years ago in the Rutgers student computer lab, when all I really did with it was browse Usenet.

So, the next day, after reading up on some things online, I've got a Red Hat distribution of Linux that I downloaded, running in a virtual machine on my laptop, and I'm starting to read the Python book...

And, it's going pretty well. It's making a lot of sense, nothing incomprehensible, I'm kinda flying through it. My friend had set a task for me. Write a program that plays Blackjack, incorporating a data structure to represent a single standard 52 card deck that we're all used to. And.. I fucking did it! And you could have as many players as you wanted, and it kept track of your winnings over multiple games, and everything. I fucking did it!

All of this meanwhile, while still actually doing my "real" job, remote to my old company. And yes, really doing it, not slacking off. I proceeded further along in the book... At some point, the book started using the example of programatically manipulating the ID4 tags of MP3 files. (The files that contain the metadata of the songs - Title, Artist, Genre, etc. like that.) The problem was... that apparently, at some point in time between now and back when this book was actually published.. it seems that the standard structure of ID4 tags in the world had changed, and so, the examples in the book no longer worked, because the assumptions that they were coded to were no longer true... Now the thing about me and learning this kind of stuff is, I need to see a working example. I need to actually go through it, and watch what it's doing, and see the actual success condition in action. That's how I learn. And, that wasn't working for me here anymore, with this book. I still had about a week and a half or so, until I was going to be tested by the company. I decided to go out looking for help from, where else, the local furry community that I was meeting and trying to become a part of.

I had seen, through one of the area mailing lists, that there was actually a local Python study group, which had been formed and was run by this one guy out here. He was even, at the time, the boyfriend of this girl that was friends with my three-month-boyfriend. So, basically right in the middle of these new social groups that I was trying to become a part of. "Great!" I thought. I will ask to join his group, and try to get some help and advice from him on these parts where I'm getting stuck. I found his messaging handle, started up a chat with him, introduced myself, told him I was a new guy that had just moved to the area, and that I would very much like to learn at his feet, please. And then he asked me, "So, why is it that you're interested in learning Python in the first place?"

And me, amazingly still being somewhat bright-eyed and bushy tailed, not quite having the last little bit of naivete and trust burnt out of me yet, said to him... "Oh! Well, I've got this job interview coming up with [Such-and-Such], and they know I come from Windows land, but they're giving me three weeks to learn as much Python as I can, and see how I do. Can you help me please? :)"

And his response was: "Oh... [Such-and-Such is] hiring? Interesting..."

... A cold pit forms in my stomach, amid the vague further statements of uhhh yeaaaah suurrree come by sometime, etc...

So that goes nowhere, and I try to brush it off in my mind. I keep on studying on my own, and I eventually get over most of the problems I was having, but my momentum's a little rattled. Finally, I do in fact have the interview and the test. It's a bit difficult and nerve wracking, especially because there's two people completely watching me and everything I'm typing into my program, as I'm writing it for them and testing it. But, still I do decently ok, and again, this is with *never having done this before* until the three weeks prior, and I feel like if I was immersed in it full time, I would have no problem excelling at it pretty quickly. I thank everyone there for their time, they do the same for me, and I home to await hearing the results.

A week or two goes by. Finally, I am told that, though I was a little rough, yes they were impressed by what I did starting from nothing like that. They are considering their options however.. At the moment, the choice is between me, and... one other person.

One other person, who suddenly appeared for an interview...

...I don't know who it is.. my friend that works there won't tell me. But, yes I do.. I know exactly who it fucking is.. A few more days go by, and they tell me the bad news. Thanks for trying, but in the end, they went with the other guy, who had more experience. I dig and dig and dig with my friend, until he tells me. Yes... It absolutely is that other guy. The guy that I asked for help. The guy that didn't even fucking know there was a job to interview for, until I asked him for help on it. And he just helped himself right to it, instead.

I am in a nest of vipers...

I have moved myself all the way across the country, away from everything and everyone that I've ever known, and I'm all alone here, my mom is dead, I have few friends, and the new people that I have been trying to become a part of just stabbed me in the fucking back. I am seriously in shock and panic. I have been told by people that, a major difference from the West and East Coast is, on the East Coast, people will be very direct with you. You will always know where you stand with them, good or bad. On the West Coast though, they tend to not like confrontation, so they can be all smiles up front, but it may be phony, and they'll just undermine you in the dark, when they think they can. Maybe this was part of that. Maybe, what, I don't know... maybe everyone that I have met out here so far to this point is this way. Maybe none of them are really my friends...

So go my thoughts, at that time... I am very thankful, now, to be able to look back and see that this is not at all the case... But, that one guy.. almost completely destroyed the whole idea of the Bay for me.

To You who did that. You may never read this. But, I don't really give a fuck, even if you do. You are a piece of shit. It doesn't matter if you were more qualified than me or not. You almost certainly were, that isn't the point. I had a shot. And I really needed it. And I came to you for *help*. You didn't even know that job was there, if not for me. But you sure knew I was going for it, through asking for your help. And you just took it for yourself instead, and never even looked back. You have never once apologized to me. Acknowledged what you did, at all. I hate your fucking stupid doughy face. And I am so fucking sick of, in the few times here and there that I am still forced to be in your proximity, going, "Heyyyyy.. heheheeyyyyyy, buddy, how's it going? *awkward side hug*" which I had felt forced to do for awhile, not feeling like I knew which end was up with anyone anymore, for a good long while after that. You almost ruined the whole very idea of the Bay for me. Fuck you.

At least I can say, no matter what, that you will always be You. And that, is the worst possible insult I can think of.


[We'll end part 3 here. I must talk about Benny next. I want to be done writing the bad stuff now, but, I cannot just gloss over him.]
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
So, I decided to move to California.

Rex had said to me, in some of our few post-break-up conversations, that he needed to "go on an adventure" to go find himself, basically. There was some tenuous fiction maintained for a period of time, that this was all part of some grand over-arching plan, that this was for Us, so that he could go become who he needed to be, in order to come back to me one day. By this I mean, these were not things that I made up in order to console myself, these are things that he actually said to me. Not that I didn't jump at the chance to believe it, for awhile. It was the only hope left that I had to cling to. And, maybe he even somehow meant it, at the time that he said it. Or, maybe it was just what he said to placate me the best that he could, while he went kay-bye. *shrugs* It doesn't matter anymore.

But, it was fucking insidious, you know? Doing that. It was actually way worse then just outright telling me we were done forever. Cause in this way, he still kept me strung along. I dunno why.. Available maybe, in case he changed his mind, or Atlanta didn't work out after all. But, it did not let me move on. It stabbed me in the heart for him cheating on me and running away with that guy in the first place... And then, it sliced open my stomach, pulled out all of my intestines, and strung them up in a tree with me dangling beneath it for ballast, for putting in me the idea that I should hold on. That this was for US. That if I were to now say no, go fuck yourself forever for doing this, then... it would be my fault that our story would not have a happy ending, and have us come together again. MINE! Are you fucking kidding me right now? Who the fuck would do that to someone that they supposedly loved?

And, who the fuck would believe that shit?

Hi. My name is Quentin.

 photo 4389BD44-E612-4921-9BED-031F1F58C22C.jpg
I just slid my dick down your throat... And you thanked me for it.


Ok, well then I'll just sit down over here then, shall I, while you go... do.. that?

It took me almost a year of non-stop trying to... square.. that story.. And in the end, I just could not do it. I finally finally wised up to the bullshit that it was, bullshit regardless of whether he himself even believed it or not, and called it for what it was. He lied to me, he betrayed me, that was a line crossed that could never ever be crossed back to where we used to be anymore.. because, because of him and and all of this, that person that I was, back there when I was with him, does not exist anymore. I am now only me.

Figuring out again what that was, however... Whoo boy...

"Hi, how are you doing? {who are you?}"

Well, um, hmm... I'm a person who is/was something of a furry celebrity of prominence, more known than many, anyway, who projected an air of pridefullness and confidence, and who kinda tended to brag a lot, about how awesome my life was, and how happy I was. I mean, a part of that was the showmanship "give the people what they want" sort of thing, which I mentioned in part 1 - rubbing my dick in the face of the haters. But, for additionally having made my relationship so public as well, and incorporating it as a part of my cult of personality, then so too was the breakup chained to all of that, and laid bare for all the world to see. Just simply because there was a breakup, and how it happend, well... that kinda must put the lie to all those wonderful things that I used to say.

"I'm a foolish, prideful, gullible idiot, who cries every day now, and everything that I believed in was a lie... Hm? Oh, yes, thank you, I *can* see it in your eyes that you're at least glad that you're not me right now. Totally - I wish I wasn't me right now, either."



Hurr hurrrrr.. hmmm...

Oh, you'e gonna go on an Adventure, are you motherfucker? Yeah? Ok, well, you know what? That sounds just great! I'm not gonna sit on my ass wasting away here, I'm gonna go on a motherfucking adventure, too! BAM!

 photo B79EDA4C-C434-47AC-90A5-789BB02DC43A.jpg
I will diminish, and go into the West.

And so it was then, that I started having the epiphanies about fixing the Story of my Story, and how to do that. I wrote the story about that, again linked in part 1. Finally, a year later after it actually happened, I got to start mourning my breakup proper, at last having truly acknowledged it. And, I decided to move to California. Making that decision was great, and really did for the first time in a long while, give me a sense of hope, and something to strive forward to. But, how to actually do that, that was still another matter. I did not want to do what a lot people did (and, kinda Rex himself did this too, for that matter) - just pick up on a whim and move with nothing, no foundation. I wanted to do it right, carefully, with planning and forethought. I wanted to have a job lined up, I wanted to have a place to live. I was accustomed to a certain level of lifestyle, back on the east coast. I was making more money than just about all of my friends that I knew (and so yes, there was a certain element of 'status' about that as well, with regards to the rest of the things I already said before, about my furry character. What can I say?) But also.. I wanted to be safe. I had just lost the person who was the closest, most important person in my life, who I'd thought was the *most* in my corner. At least he had his new guy, in Atlanta. If I did this thing, it would be totally alone, and on my own. Not knowing anybody, no one to help me.

(Yeah? You think you bad? Watch *this*, motherfucker! This is how this shit's done!)

I wanted to have enough money to do all of this, and still have a safety net, in case anything went wrong. And, that meant savings. Lots and lots of trying to keep savings.

Saving means not going out and doing a lot of things. Every extra thing you buy or trip you take, is that much farther back you're keeping yourself away from your end goal. Not taking trips, and buying things and doing things, however, is a great way to make yourself feel even more depressed. Especially when you're already hurting from a loss, and you're feeling awkward and alienated from your former social life. You go to work, come home, stay in your apartment, go to sleep, repeat. Every now and then you'll splurge on something, because you just fucking have to for your own sanity, and it's good in the moment, but you still kind of regret it later.

Other outlets had faltered, as well. The furmeets I had finally, after so long, already kind of let fall by the wayside, awhile before. At first, because of a break-in and robbery of our apartment, perpetrated as it turns out, by a once-friend, who we'd met and who started being there, through our open invite policy in the first place. I don't even want to get into all that anymore. But after all of this, I kind of just didn't feel up to having them anymore, anyway. I was no longer the smarmy but friendly, cheerful upbeat host. I just did not have it in me anymore.

And, I stopped writing of course. What else was there left to write about?

So, the next two years or so were very stagnant and depressing. No real outlets, not a lot of joy, certainly not by past standards. It is soooo... hard... when you are not where you want to be yet, but, you still cannot be anywhere other than where you are right then. You are Inbetween. You are Nowhere. Of course I did not have all the things of California that I wanted yet, but, also.. I started to feel like, anything else that I did on the east coast just.. wouldn't matter anymore. Make a new friend here? Why? What will it matter? You're just going to have to leave them soon anyway, and then you'll just be sad about that. Certainly, certainly don't try to start a new relationship, if the chance for it even arises. Cause then, you're either just going to leave them too, or you won't.. But, for not moving, you will have failed in your big life project that you set for yourself. You will give up and just do nothing, after all of that effort and talk. You will remain a failure in your own eyes, if nobody else's, and that will make you become no good for anyone, anyway. Plus you'll still be around all the old bad memories you were trying to get away from. It's just... Ugh, it sucks!

Two years like that. Fading, fading, fading down. The motor idle. The lights dimmed. They were, for the most part, very lonely and boring and the same, and so I will not spend very much time on them. Just a few things.

There are.. "news cycles" in regular life, just as much as there are in the News news. Celebrity fades, if it is not fed. People and paradigms and social media move on. Twitter eats Livejournal.

"Hi, I'm Quentin Coyote"

"Hmm, what? Sorry, never heard of you."

Hmm..! Interesting...

You know what..? This is a good thing though, actually. I'd been complaining about so many things that had been broken.. With this turn of events, I realized that maybe I could just simply slough them off entirely. That's what I wanted anyway, that's what I want! New life! Leave it all behind! Start over new..


"Ok, great! So, how are you doing? Who are you?"

"Uhhhhh... I don't know... I.. well, my boyfriend broke up with me.. and I'm moving to California! I uh... don't really have a whole lot more than that, yet.

"Oh.. Well, California sounds cool though! :) How long since you've been trying to do that?"

"Oh... A couple years now..."



So, two years of that. Not being Somewhere. Stuck being Nowhere. Trying to be Anywhere.

I did have one or two very short rebound relationships in there, but, that is what they were, I don't need to go into a soliloquy about what rebounds are, they were that. I hurt one or two people for it, that did not deserve to be hurt. And I am sorry. One person, who is still a very dear friend, did try to get with me during this time, very hard, and for a fairly long time. Even though he might have been very good for me if I had let him, I did not. Because, I did not feel good for anyone still yet, and I became absolutely terrified of doing that to him, too. It would have just killed me... Anyway, he is married now, to someone else. I love them both, and am very happy for them. I won't say that I don't know what I turned down, though...

Nowhere Man - The Beatles

There was another person during this time, Dexn, who, despite meeting me in... *this* state, rather than my prior glory, still took a liking to me, and I to him, though, the relationship was of a different character than what Rex and I had, or what my above friend wanted to give. There are different and even formalized forms for it in the Furry world, than what exists in most of the mainstream world. There may be non-furries that will read this, so, let's just say that it was more of a Mentor/Mentee kind of thing. But, that being said, in a lot of other respects, he became, for all practical purposes, my boyfriend for awhile. The total arc of this one was from late 2011 to, depending on how you recon it, May of 2015, but with a break of about a year in the middle, when I did move to California, and he stayed in NJ to be with someone else. So effectively, we were together, and then we broke up, and then we missed each other, and got back together again when he came out to California to be with me, and then, we realized that no, we were right to have broken up the first time. That's the very most bare bones summarization of it, though it was much more rich and complex than all that. But, I want to lay it all out here now, rather than break it up into the two parts that I would otherwise have to, later.

Suffice it to say, we were both very good for each other in ways, for a time. We both needed what we were to the other. He held me so many nights, when I was crying in bed over Mom, when that eventually happened.. Thank fucking god for him, I just don't even know what I would have done... But, we are on different journeys, want some pretty substantively different things out of life, and trying to force those two things to stick together, was just making us tear at each other too much. I still care for him a great deal, and I wish him nothing but happiness and success.


So, I'm still trying to save up to move to California. And then, my mother died.

I can't. I just can't. It's linked back in part one, and I cried my eyes out for two days writing it back then when I did.


"Heya, how are you, how's it going?"

"Well, uh... I'm a tired old beaten down furry has-been, who's boyfriend left him, and my mom just died, and I've been trying for two years to move to California, but I don't have enough money yet, and I can't seem to find a job out there no matter how hard I try, and I have no idea when the hell I actually can."




So yeah... aftermath aftermath aftermath later, from my mom passing, I do get a sizeable chunk of inheritance money, through the sale of my very same studio apartment that I used to live in, in Manhattan. (I would give it all back in an instant, in exchange for having my mom back, please thanks. No? Mm.) It was at least enough though, that... though certainly with fear about it and trepidation, I made the decision to go. Just go. GO GO FUCKING GO!!! I quit my job, said all my goodbyes, packed all my shit up and sent it over with a moving company, and made arrangements to stay for awhile with some friends of mine in their house in South San Franciso, at least long enough for me to get up on my own feet out there and settle in. I am immensely thankful to those friends for this too, I could not have done it without them.

So... After all this time... after two so very long, soul crushing years... I was finally free. On my way to my grand Adventure that I had conceived back in January 2011. The feeling was just... absolutely incredible.. So, so much just lifting up, falling away from my shoulders. So much more stuff, that I didn't even know was there, and could only now really see it, and start to understand it, for having its absence at last to compare things to. All of this stuff I wrote about those two years above? I mean, I knew it was bad, but, it was only now that I had the perspective to understand the sheer depth of it...

But now, it is just simply... (again, mom things very much aside... *wipes away tear...*) Gone... On my way now to California, with my cat Benny in tow!

Oh yes.. Have I not mentioned my cat Benny in this story, before now?



But, we'll get to that...



On June 29th 2013, in the wee hours of the morning, I boarded a plane in Newark, Benny in his cat bag with me, and off we headed to San Francisco! That particular flight was... beset with its own particular complications.. But, no matter! We're here, we did it! :D

When we landed at the airport, my friends Isaac (now Lucky) and Kane picked me up, and after briefly dropping Benny and my stuff off at the house, we all headed straight into the City and up to the Castro District, for the big Gay Pride block party. Did I mention it was Gay Pride weekend? Yeah, damn skippy it was! How ya like that for an entrance?! :D Straight off the plane, right up to SF Castro gay pride, rainbow flags everywhere, happy awesome energy throughout (and mmm mmm, what nice eye candy!) And oh yeah, we get off of the Bart train to go there, get back above ground, and what do I see when I look up right above me? We are standing in front of a little mexican taqueria named... are you ready for this? Taqueria los Coyotes!


Do you feel me? Can you dig it? How fucking awesome is that?? :D

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Coyote tacos are best tacos

And fucking A yes, you'd better believe that we came back and ate there at some point, and I love it, that place is great! But meanwhile before that, we went to some coffee place, met up with a whole bunch of the other local furs there. (OMG! New people! And it can actually matter if I meet them, and become friends with them, cause this is my home now, these are my new homies! :D) And so we do that, and it's a total blast, and then we all wander further up in a big group up to the Castro party proper, and there's just thousands and thousands of people and music and everything! And I look halfway down the street, and I see this bar there, and it's fucking called the Q Bar...


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Oh man, you knew I was coming, and you gave me my own bar? Aw thanks guys, I love you, you shouldn't have! :D

Oh yes..

And, this bar is right next to a pizza place called... Escape From New York Pizza...



*wipes laughing tear away* But yeah, oh man... It was all just so incredible! What an amazing time. And, I did it! I made it here! I can still do things! :D


The next several months were kind of a whirlwind of just one new amazing adventure after another, after another. I made the rounds of all the various different furry social groups and events. Went to Chicken, went to Bowling, the Furries in the Wild rave picnic up in the Oakland woodland hills. Went to Half Moon Bay, and the ocean. (Spoilers by the way, the beaches in SF are.. not warm, lol. Nobody warned me about, and I did not expect that. I had pictured all these scenes of rolling waves and surfer dudes and all of that, but, that stuff is apparently all down in Socal. So, when I showed up for the first time in swim trunks and short sleeves, and everyone else around me is wearing sweaters, that was a little awkward.. and chilly, lol. But, s'all good. It's still very pretty, and I've learned to roll with it. (The Bay's "micro climates", a term I had never heard before, are pretty fascinating actually.)

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West. Side.

Oh yeah! Also, very shortly after I landed, as it turned out, there was this major heatwave all across the whole country. Checking twitter, everybody from everywhere was complaining about how sweltering it was, how they were just dying if they stepped outside from their air conditioners. Everywhere that is, except for one place... Someone posted a picture of a heat map for a particular day at that time, for the whole country. This was like, literally just after I'd gotten here.

And, here it is:

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Mmmm... My favorite temperature... ^.^

Hehehe... I posted that, and all my friends back East were all like, "Augh, FUCK! YOUUUUUUUUU!!" Lol...

But yes.. More things! Went to Napa Valley, got into a bunch of wine tasting stuff.. Drove all the way up through the red wood forests. Went up to Eureka one time, to drop off Benny for while, with a friend there who agreed to take him in for awhile until I got my own place, since the place where I was living in South City didn't technically allow pets. On my way back down, I totally found that place where they have the giant living redwood tree that you can drive your car through! I'd heard about that thing since I was a little kid, and here I was actually driving through it! :D

Oh yeah! That's the other thing, with some of the money from the apartment sale, I bought myself a new car! I had not owned a car in the last, like, 18 years. Never really needed one, and in fact, they are kind of a hindrance when living in NYC proper. And the subway system gets you pretty much anywhere that you want to be.. As long as where you want to be is in the city. Going afield of there was not very easy for me.. And, that was another thing that made me feel kind of isolated, in those last two years. But now, I could go anywhere that I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn't care, I would drive 5 - 6 hours, just to see some new person place or thing! Total Freedom! It was wonderful... Many days, I would just pull out google maps satellite view, look over the whole bay area for some land mark that look interesting, and just drive out there to see what was there.

Other days, I would just simply walk around our own neighborhood, and just... revel in everything. I mean seriously, just look how beautiful this is! This was all right outside my house!


So yeah... total honeymoon period. Everything that I had wanted, everything that I dreamed it would be. Beautiful and happy. Thrilling! Serene. At peace.

I even fairly quickly found a new boyfriend for awhile. Only lasted about three months, but it was very passionate and intense. Had a bunch more adventures with him, too. Went camping by the ocean one weekend. Had to do this whole long two hour trek in, carrying all of our stuff. Set up camp right in this protected alcove around the bend from the ocean, barbecued our own food, slept under the stars, and made even more new good friends, who are still so to this day.

He was a little bit crazy though, and, after not too long, I realized that I needed to slow down an probably put the kibosh on this, for my own good. I know that I'm finally in my Xanadu now, but, I do need to keep an ear to the ground of reality. After the mini honeymoon of him, within my larger honeymoon, some large pools of darkness within him became apparent to me, and he was starting to drag me mentally to some bad places. And so, still highly alert and sensitive to not wanting to fall back into the kinds of mental abyss I'd been in back east, I broke up with him. And, the usual bits of fallout from that kind of thing, ensued. But, nothing too major that I wasn't able to recover from pretty quickly on my side, anyway. Yes, of course, I know that it's easier for me to say that, being the one doing the breaking up, that time. But, there it is. There were definitely some good times there though, and I don't regret the experience.


Oh. Oh yeah! "Hey, by the way, how are you, how are you doing?"

"Hmmm.. You know what? Fucking great! :D I moved myself all the way here to California to start a new life, and I've already had all these adventures, and I fucking love it! :D"

Hey, alright...! That's pretty great, actually. Definitely a major improvement!


So yes! Definitely good stuff. So alright, cool, savor this for awhile, just let it flow over you, run with it and be at peace... But then... once you've taken these moments for yourself.. You do still need to get back to the reality of finding work, getting your own place to live, and really planting substantial roots here, to make all of this permanent. Time to find an apartment, and time to actually get yourself a job. Remember, you still had a hard time doing that, when you were back east. Should hopefully be easier, now that you can just go to a place on a moment's notice for an interview.. But yeah.. Now you really fucking need to make this stick...

And here, we will end for now on Part 2, and continue on to all of that stuff, next time...
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)

Mmmm... It feels like.. you know that scene in The Watchmen, where the owl guy goes in his basement, and pulls off the tarp of his old flying machine that's been gathering dust forever, stares at it awhile.. then goes to try to have sex with what's her face, but it's all awkward and he can't get it up for awhile... So then they have to go out and fuck some shit up like the couple of bad motherfuckers that they are, and then they get back home and it's all like, BAM - UNGH UHHHH YEAH!!!?

Yeah, it feels kinda like that in here to me right now.

So, let's see what we can do here. I feel that it is, at long last, time to put a bookend on a story cycle of my life, that started back in 2010 or so. I did this once before, with the story of my coming out as gay in high school. Once upon a time in my life, for many years, it was the only story that I ever had to tell about myself. Then one day... it was just time for that to no longer be my story. So, I wrote it down, in here, the very best and at length that I could, and then... Just like that, I never felt the need to ever tell it verbally again. I would refer to it sometimes, as needed. (For instance, if you're new to me and curious, here you go.) But, that's about it. And, good riddance, indeed.

Well, I think that is about time, and that I am finally feeling capable of doing the same kind of thing, with a particular arc of my story, that I have been struggling with since that above mentioned time in 2010. And that is... the Story of my Story. So... in order to do that, I must do a little more recap here... So, back in January 2011, I started trying my really hardest to find expression for the pain of the current, at the time, state of my life (and, little did I even know back then, what more pain was yet to come still.) But, back then, I wrote this. (And, that one really is important, it is the start of this cycle that I am writing of here, so, if you're bothering to follow along at all, I implore you to go read it again now.)

So, with that in mind, the journey has been... fixing my story. Finding a new one again. A better one.


"What's your story, man?" "What's the deal?" "What is up?" "Hey there... how are you?"

"How are you?" can be such a terrifying question... It forces you to examine all of your insides, and produce some kind of coherent narrative about the state of your being to another person. It insists that you must take up a bunch of disparate, all jumbled up events and facts, and string along a story together from them. We do this, because the other person simply wants to hear the story we choose to offer, so that they can know Who We Are. That they may know Us. So, in this way, our Story is in fact our Identity.

Well... what the fuck do you do.. when so many of those events and facts that you kind of have no choice not to incorporate into your story, your identity, are simply painful and bad? I mean, you could try to leave them out, but then, you yourself know that the story is not true, or at least not fully so, and so you feel disingenuous about yourself, and that feels terrible. Or else, you just go for it, and you feel the wretched horror coming out of your mouth, and you see it creeping into the face of the other person that you're talking to, like, OMG aughh! Back button, hit the back button!! Sorry, my sympathies, but didn't sign up for that, sorry I asked!

I mean, just look what happened when a friend that I hadn't seen in awhile asked me if I was ok, at FC Frolic one time.

So, being asked how you're doing, and not having a good way to talk about yourself that is positive, is just, really demoralizing, and kind of self-reinforcing, and is a really hard spiral to get out of. And, to do that... is precisely the journey that I had set myself to, over these last several years, before and since moving to the Bay.

What I think that I have been finally figuring out recently however is that, because of all of this, it was making me so afraid to try to tell my story anymore, and so... I had just simply stopped doing it, at all. And.. because I had stopped telling it.. it was never ever getting out of me. It was always just, all of it, sitting right below the surface, never being released, and so therefore never making any room for there to start to be a different story in the first place. In the same way that telling a story too much over and over (like I used to do with my highschool story back in the day, keeping me in that loop of a rut), I went too far the other way here, and just... stopped talking about myself to people at all, or trying to, anyway. Trying to flip the conversation as quickly away from myself as I could, and on to them instead - much much safer... Until, it seems like to me now... I almost forgot even how to anymore.

I certainly stopped writing here in my livejournal since forever, and, it was always that very writing in the first place, this Voice that I'd found I had inside of me, that gave me an Identity in the furry world, and made me a Name that people knew all the way across the country and even beyond, at least in the circles that I cared about the most. Writing is who I am! It is how I found my best self! It is only there, that I could truly unleash my most raw pure inner being, which is always ALWAYS, at every moment, just so... FRAUGHT with emotion... that if I try to channel it in this way, to this degree, through verbal speaking, I more often than not just get all choked up on my own words, and sound like a stupid fucking moron. But no... with at least the little bit of a safety net here, with a little more time to choose the right words, over which my brain is already racing past at a million miles an hour in the ether of purethought.. here I can truly fly, and even let you see it.

And I stopped. I fucking stopped it. I'm a Writer that stopped fucking writing.

Well, it is time now, at long last, to fix that. I have talked enough for now, about the Meta of the story. It is time to update you all now, on what the story itself is. Here is the string that I wish to spin, tying together all of the disparate facts and events, over the last few years of my life.


Let us do back up for a little bit though. I don't want you to think that it has all ever been doom and gloom all the time, for it most certainly has not! Let's turn the dial back, and just recap briefly, quickly, all the time that led up to beginning of this arc.

So, back in 2001, living in NYC, after lurking in the shadows for some years, I took my plunge and entered the Furry fandom for real. I went to my first convention (Anthrocon), I made a ton of new furry friends, in actual real life, no longer online, and discovered amazingly, for really the first time in my life, that I was not so alone in this world, after all. I quickly decided that I wanted, I had to, find all the other furries like me, that maybe still did not know this world existed, that thought they were all alone, and bring them, too, into this light and warmth. On Thanksgiving of that year, I threw a big potluck party in my tiny Manhattan studio apartment on the Upper East Side, and like fully 40 people showed up! It was just truly amazing. For as huge a city as NYC is... there just really were not many big meets going on at all. That one became the first.

Very soon after, I started throwing a big open invite meet, in my same tiny studio apartment, every single Wednesday, for the next 8 years, hardly ever missing a single one. (Around midway in there, I did move from Manhattan to Queens, but we kept on right up with it there.) Every now and then, we would intersperse this with various excursions around the city. *I* did this. I made this happen. But, I was never just doing it for me. I was doing it to find the others. To find You. To find Me. To find all of Us, and bring us all at last together.

And eventually, I started writing about my personal life experiences with all of this, with all of you. Here on my livejournal. On April 28th of 2003, so it tells me. Back when every furry in the world was also on here. I found that I had a taste, and, apparently, a knack for it. In fact.. you know what? Most of those subsequent eight years are locked away now, they are only for me anymore. There are a few exceptions here and there. But here, I'll unlock my very first journal entry. I would have been... 27 then. Ahh.. look at how young and innocent I still am.. <3

It's funny... I say there that I couldn't really see myself doing very many updates. I then almost instantly proceeded to ramp up to the point that I was doing one or more, often substantial update, just about every day. For eight years!

Through that, and reading other people's journals, I slowly started growing my social network afar from just my local environs of NYC. Started talking to people from all over the country, and eventually even Europe and Australia. And then one day, a very curious thing happened. I was at some very far away furry convention.. I want to say that it was FC 2004, in California actually.. But I could be wrong. But anyway, somewhere a long ways away from home. And anyway, I was walking around somewhere, talking to one of my local friends that had come as well, and then all of a sudden.. this guy that I'd never seen before is about to pass by, notices my convention badge, totally does a double take, and goes, "Oh my god, you're Quentin Coyote! I read all about your furmeets that you have in NYC!"

And he was just like, all so happy and exited about it, like he couldn't believe I was standing right there in front of him, and all kinda bashful and nervous about it. And it was funny to me, and flattering, but also embarrassing and weird, and on the inside I was probably just as nervous about it as he seemed to be, but he probably couldn't see that from the vantage of the pedestal he'd just plopped me right on.. I really really wasn't sure what to say or do, I never expected anything like that at all ever. I was just some guy, like anybody else. And yeah, I did these events, and yeah I wrote about them. I was somewhat aware that more and more people were reading me, I suppose. But, this just started happening more and more, and eventually... yes, I got used to it. And came to expect it as completely natural, even. And also yes, I will not lie.. I completely fucking loved it.

Multiplying this even further of course... was the fact that my character was a freaking Coyote Pimp! Now... those of you who know me really really well, will know that that actually comes from imagery from the movie "Xanadu". Which, if you've ever seen it, you know that it is completely campy and silly and cartooish, and... lighthearted and sweet! It is about making your dreams come true!


Go download the soundtrack right now, and listen to it, and sing it at the top of your lungs in your car like a huge faggot, cause all of it is amazing and magical and sublime!!!

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But of course, that is not what all people saw... A lot of people looked at my character, took it to mean the more traditional form of that sort of imagery, I suppose (and ok, I guess, to a point, I cannot really blame them.) But anyway, they saw that, like, oh, you're a big pimp huh? Big NYC man all full of yourself and shit, and etc. etc. And so, a smaller subset of people decided that they knew exactly who I was without ever even meeting me, and that it would be fun and fashionable for them to hate on me. That... was particularly frightening and scary, disconcerting, and I really didn't know what to make of or do about it for a long while. Eventually though, that kind of faded into the background noise as well, and, though it was a bit of a defense mechanism, I just decided, well... Give the people what they want! And for those sorts of people, I kind of just cynically started playing up into it.

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If the world's only gonna see a fox as shifty and untrustworthy, there's no point trying to be anything else.

(I include that last Taylor Swift one also, by the way, not just because of its face-value subject matter, but also because there is a truly wonderful riff on it in The Magicians series on the SyFy channel (which sadly, youtube does not seem to have). The main character there incidentally, just so also happens to be named Quentin. What's not to love? ^.^ A great show, check it out!)


But yeah! So, now I've got all of this going on in my life, and I'm kind of this furry celebrity wherever I go. I am King Furry of New York! And whenever I walk into a room party at any con anywhere, it's alll "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!! QQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQQ!!!" From all the people that I know, and do not know, alike. It was wonderful, magical.

And things continued on like this, as I said for like a full eight years! Such a huge change from the nerdy, lonely, sensitive, picked on outcast that I'd been throughout much of high and grade school, as noted in my first linked story above. Sure, there were some ups and downs along they way, but overall, what an amazing new life I found myself in, that I could have never imagined once upon a time.

One day in there, I met Rex, my boyfriend for the next three years - the man whom I thought would one day be my husband, and be with me for the rest of my life. I have never thought of anyone else that way, not like that, not to that degree, before then or since...

Forget the world... I was on top of the Universe. I thought I'd found happiness and enlightenment, before. Rex showed me new things and took me to new places, made me feel whole worlds of warmth and connection and understanding and truth, that I never even dreamed existed, let alone ever had any inkling of how to get to.


And then, three years later, he cheated on me for three months or maybe more, right under my nose (a pretty accomplished feat in itself, considering that we had a for the most part open relationship), and ran away to Atlanta with this smug self-important asshole. Guess he'd really learned what he liked, by that point... Anyway, though I "technically" was the one that broke us up after I found out about it, he'd already all but done it long before, in deed and thought. I didn't even know how, or why, I was alive anymore, for a very long period of time after that. I am not a suicidal sort of person, and I still would never really have done that I don't think, but... man I sure did not want to be alive any more a lot. It was the worst pain and loss that I had ever experienced in my entire life...

...Up until that point... Again... see my third story I linked above, about my mom passing.

But! I will not belabor all of those particular things anymore, they have been belabored long enough. I just want to pause a moment, to take a look back and go, "See? Before the end there, those were some really incredible times that you had there. Years and years of them! Anyone should be so lucky." It is not by any means all doom and gloom. It was all beyond my wildest dreams.

But then, yes.. After that, for climbing so high, the fall was terrible. I will also not belabor it anymore, either. There we go. Again, that is just the start of this arc of my saga. The Story of my Story, as I have linked in my second link at the top above.

At long last... the stage here is set. And, I want to finally write the story of all of the things that have happened since that time. Here is the time where, I basically stopped writing anymore for the most part, my mom passing away (gee, great) aside. This is where the Story had stopped and become stagnant again. Not that many things did not happen, of course, just, merely that I stopped writing about them. And so they have stayed in me. Stuck in a chapter of a story that I did not particularly like telling to people, because of where I was then in my "Hey, how are you doing?" status, as mentioned above.

It also did not really help at all that, at about exactly this same time, Twitter became super popular and started eating livejournal, as more and more furries moved away from it. I followed as well...




*breathe in...*

The Story continues, now, at very long last...

"How are you doing?"

"Well, so I've decided that I'm moving to California..."


So, I decided to move to California...

[You know what, I'm going to end this entry here now, and start a chapter two over the next several days, as I have time. Here is at long last the logical break I have been trying to get to, to tell the story that I *really* want to tell, after all. So, here you go, here's your intro. Stay tuned for more.]
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
So, I started scrolling through my friends list today, in the first time in forever, and I started thinking to myself, ok, there is one feature that twitter has that I wish lj did, and that is a "like" button, so that I can make my friends aware that I have read and acknowledged their posts, quickly, without actually needing to come up with something to say.

And then I thought... Ugh, no! That is *exactly* the goddamned fucking problem, and what twitter has done to us - is slowly, subtly, make us stop actually speaking to each other. I *want* to speak to you guys, I miss you!

I just started writing this out on a whim, whereas I wouldn't have even bothered on twitter, and oh my god... it feel so good! Fucking. more. to. come!

[addendum] Oh, and look! I can actually come back and make fucking edits if I fucked something up, or come and add more things if I think of them later! And, any comments you guys might make, that I might want to come back and reminisce about years from now, will still be right here, instead of lost to the ether after a few days forever. Fucking epic! who could have thought! :D

[addendum 2] So, I discovered that lj does in fact have a like feature.. But you know what? I have decided that I am not going to use it. If I want to make it known that I have appreciated something that they have said, then I am going to do so by actually saying something to them, and giving them a real comment.

How ya *like* that??? ;-P *drops the mic*
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
Heh, ok.. not quite so dead as maybe I thought. That's good to know. Thanks guys, I appreciate it.

I have a story/life update in mind that I wanna try to do over the next couple of days. It may take a bit, cause I wanna do it up right, so please bear with me.


Dec. 6th, 2016 10:20 pm
quentincoyote: (Bala blink)
Curious if anyone still reads this thing anymore?
quentincoyote: (Default)
So I took a little stroll the other day to see what I could find...

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Here's the hill directly behind my house. I wanted to see if I could get to the top

on approach photo 3.jpg
after walking around a little while, I finally found an approach up

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Ah, here's the flag we saw from down below!

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And way down there somewhere, is my house. Across the way, those are the mountains you can see from my front yard! It's pretty magical stepping outside every morning. :)

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Ooh, and coming up over the rise, what do we have here?

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check out that view!

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The bay in the distance. All of this only took about a 15 minute walk. I love it here! :D
quentincoyote: (Default)
So day two for me in the Bay now, and I just want to try to get out a few thoughts of where I'm at now.

The folks back east, and/or that I've known in general for a long time, know what a big deal this move has been for me, and for how long. Been a day dream since about '04, but been a singular focus since '10. I won't belabor that too much anymore here cause, I have for such a long time, and, that's in the past now! The move is... done. *laughs* Wow, the fact that I can actually say that for real is so mind blowing to me and it's still just sinking in.

Suffice to say that, yeah, it's huge.

But I want to talk a little bit more about some moments and things going through my mind, while I was actually on the flight over here yesterday morning. This move has been, for several years, the thing that I strove for, the Future, That Thing that kept me going through some pretty dark times of the past.

Lol... the irony is, it can be pretty damn scary, when you actually finally do achieve something like that, that you've been reaching for for so long. Cause it's like, what if it's not what you thought it would be? What if it's just the same, or a step backwards, from whatever was before? And what else do I do with myself now, now that I finally "grabbed the brass ring"?

So I had some moments of quiet freakout in my own mind, in the five hours it took to fly from NYC to SF yeserday. I'd gotten up at 4 am to get to the airport, after really not having slept at all anyway, cause I was so wired up about everything. I said some last, Poignant Things, to my dad, on the drive to the airport. Just in case, somehow god forbid, I never get the chance again. (For those who are new to meeting me, my mom passed away this passed September. We don't have to get into it again now, but... it was bad. I wrote about it in a story submission here a couple of months ago, ("Release"). Anyway, so that stuff's going through my head. And then I'm at the airport, and I have my cat Benny with me in his carrier, and getting through all the checkpoints and what not with him was a freaking traumatic nightmare for him, and thus for me.

And THEN... finally on the airplane itself, I am sat in the window seat, and trapped there by this non-english speaking asian lady, and her like 2 year old child, who would not stop screaming and kicking and throwing things and banging his toys on the tray table, and carrying on this way the ENTIRE length of the trip. And, he would push both of his feet hard against my leg, and go STAMP STAMP STAMP STAMP with both of them against me as hard as he could... And... the fucking mother... didn't do anything about it at all, whatsoever. Didn't look at me, didn't say she was sorry (or try to pantomime whatever equivalent) didn't acknowledge my existence at all, just thought that her hellspawn was about the cutest thing ever and could do no wrong, and how could anyone else possibly thing otherwise either?

And I've got my cat on the floor at my feet, and I'm also at times having to, *my-fucking-self*, prevent this kid from stepping or falling on Benny's cat bag. -.-

And this is all happening, and I'm looking at the mother, and in my head I'm just like... really? REALLY? Are you really fucking kidding me lady? And in a more upwards direction, I'm going really? REALLY, Space Coyote? *This* is gonna be the experience that you subject me to, in what is supposed to be the happiest day of my recent life? I'm supposed to be sitting in my seat with a big shit eating grin on my face, and so happy for being on this plane, and so proud of myself for finally making it happen. Not, never, no way... *THIS* other bullshit, instead. The reality of the moment did not, shall we say, match the fantasy, whatsoever. Eventually, after being kicked in this way multiple times, I addressed the mom directly, and asked her to please keep his feet off of me. This succeeded in getting her to remove them *that* particular time. Not the next and the next and the next when he did it again. Finally, through it's presumably horrible decorum to take such matters into your own hands in any normal situation like this, I just started brusquely shoving his feet off of my leg *myself* whenever he would do it from that point, and that seemed to get the mom to sort of start to get it. If you're really not gonna do it lady, then I sure as fucking will.


So it is in this state of affairs that I proceeded across the country for five hours, *trapped*, leaving everyone and everything that I know behind, and I'm tired and miserable as fuck, I haven't slept in god knows how long, and I'm scared that my cat is not gonna surive all this, how could I do this to him, much less me, and I quit my stable, secure job, my *career* that I've had on the east coast for all these years, and my "project" for my future, the parts that I've known how to do anyway, are over now, and I maybe I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing from here on out, now I'm totaly winging it, and maybe it's gonna crash and burn... And I'm thinking back, to all of those months and years before, back in time, dreaming of this then future moment, when I will have finally succeded and been on my way the bay. And those fantasy day dreams were of course *nothing* like this hellish actual reality.

Maybe it will *all* be like this. That was all dream and fantasy, and this is the real fucking world, where dreams to not come true, and people die alone in the ditch. I have ruined my fucking life... *crying... fucking CRYING to myself for much of that plane ride. *THIS* plane ride, the one taking me to the bay...*


So. All that stuff is past too now, and water under the bridge. I bring it up in such excruciating detail here now, only for this reason...

So that, by juxtaposition, I can exclaim to you all how ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL AND GENEROUS AND KIND AND TERRIFIC that every one of you over here has been to me so far!!! Really, I just cannot thank you enough - once I actually got off that fucking plane and have been here among you, every moment has just been magical, and as good or beyond anything that I could have ever hoped for. I've just been so happy, and cared for and looked after, newly befriended with open arms.. You guys in the bay have been just simply amazing, and I cannot thank you enough! *HUGS ALL!!!* And I so look forward to meeting more of you and to getting to know you all better, and taking part in all of the amazing things that are going on here all the time.

I'm here now, I'v finally made it Home. And, it really has been feeling like the home that I always dreamed it would be.

The project is not over, I've still got a long journey ahead, and a lot of stuff do now, to more fully establish myself here for real, in the way that I need to be. But, I know that I really can do it, after all... And it's because YOU guys are here with me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, and, I'm so looking forward to keeping on getting to know you. Thank you for welcoming me home! :D

Oh yes, and also Benny as well, who has been happily purring on the couch here the whole time, and if nothing has even happened at all.

<3 <3 <3!


Feb. 3rd, 2013 12:11 am
quentincoyote: (Default)
A great book, therefore, is in part an act of deception, a tissue of lies: a trick. Indeed it plays the fundamental human trick of finding, or discovering, or imposing, meaning in the senseless, pattern in chaos, fish and princesses and monsters in the heavens. That act of deception is at root a self-deception, conscious and unconscious, and without it life would be -- life is -- a terrible, useless procedure bracketed by orgasm and putrefaction. Small wonder that we should have come, therefore, to revere the One who perpetrates that lie, who embodies the contingent, and in so doing, lends it the appearance of necessity. His name is Trickster.

- Trickster Makes This World

First there was the Dance. It is always the dance... is it not?

Frolic! Ahh, Frolic... here it is now, the main event. The party that everyone has been waiting for. Two full floors of light, heat, sound, and lifewave... that intangible energy, that... Thing which we share, which has drawn us all here together, from all over the earth, from all walks of life... Furry. In a world full of so much confusion and uncertainty, we know who we are, and we have found each other. And tonight, we wish to revel in that connection as never before. Tonight, such revelry will take place in a club in downtown San Jose, called The Agenda. (Mm. The Furry Agenda? I lol'ed) The club is only a couple of blocks away from the main convention hotel of Further Confusion, and sits right next to another fairly epic looking club right next door, also with various bars and restaurants and things all around. This is a major nightlife hub for the locals (non furries), as well. Many of them are out and about in their Saturday night best, dolled up, pimped out, dressed to the nines. But tonight, the Furries are the rockstars. Heads are turning everywhere we go. Our energy is palpable in the air, Electric... everyone wants to be at Our party. We acquire many admireers and followers. The line into the club stretches around the block, big bouncer guys at the door, frisking and giving full pat downs to everyone before granting entry. This is actually a little bit comical, seeing them doing it on fursuiters. But, this is serious business. Rockstars.

And inside the club... Joy! Life! Celebration! Music playing, base is pumping, drinks are flowing, bodies jumping... the place is packed wall to wall with Us... And, it's like that first time for me, all over again... way back in Anthrocon 2001, when I first saw... this, realized that I'd found my people, and first heard Coyote's call... Any bit of residual problem and burden or woe just got set down. And, here I am again. I think to myself... My life is wonderful, amazing! How could I ever have a care or worry in the world, when I have all this? No matter what else may happen in the day to day, I can still always have this. I will always have this! This life, this connection, these people, for ever and ever for the rest of my days. I can always still come Home.

I'm starting to feel my coyote pimp, supremely at ease, and in my element. Chest puffing out, but loose, relaxed, and eyes alert. I grab myself a drink from the bar, and find myself a corner from which to sit and observe for awhile. I like to people watch. Stretch out with my thoughts, kinda... see what's going on with everybody. I particularly like atmospheres such as this, for the music and the lights and the beat kinda gives everyone a base sinewave, upon which to synchronize. There is no more powerful feeling, than the cascading energy of a Connected crowd. A friend passes by, notices me, says, "Ooh, well you're looking suave as always." "Always. ^.^" I reply, with a yotewink, and a tilt of my glass.

Later on, I get a phone number from someone, that I'd casually met the previous night. Cute. Nice butt. Seemingly good sense of humor. Seemingly rather... flexible... *eyes up and down* Maybe I will talk to him again, at some point in the future. Maybe I won't. Maybe nothing will come of it, at all. But... Ooooooh, riiiiiight! *That's* how this is supposed to work! *smacks own forehead with paw!* Yeah! Meet someone in real life, make quick ten minute assessment of them, find it positive, *then* get to know them better, later. Not, spend months and months online getting to know someone "so well", only to find when you actually meet that you'd each rather claw your own faces off rather than having to deal with each other. Yeah! Fuck you Internet, thanks Real Life! It's been so long, I'd sortta forgotten about this other method. Thanks for the reminder! :D But, I digress...


I'm on the dance floor now. Jumping and moving with the crowd. Paws in the air, like I just don't care! The sine wave connects us. I'm really feeling it. The whole room is feeling it. I'm moving through the room, stopping liberally to bump and grind with various bits of sexiness. Life is great. No worries, no cares... everything is perfect.

By these days, I have now refined my Coyote "fursuit" down to only my mirrored aviator sunglasses. They're all I need anymore to be enveloped by the full coyote, as I have written about elsewhere before, should I ever want to "retreat" inside myself, let the shell of my body run on autopilot for the world, while internally I just relax, let go, and "wipe my brow" as it were. Not needing to worry about too much scrutiny from the outside. It's a very Zen-like thing, I sometimes think to myself. Most of the time, at this point here now tonight, they are just resting above my head, I don't even have them down.

And I'm riding the high of this room, and all of the sights and sounds and energy is assulting my senses. I am drinking every last drop of it in, groking it all. And another friend that I know sees me there in the crowd, and he comes up to me, with one of his two mates, and they start to dance with me as well. And we have this cute little threesome going on there, in the middle of the floor, and we're at times grinding, and at times laughing, and at time talking (well really, yelling to each other, cause everything is so loud. :-P )


And then it comes...

A look comes over my friend's face. Intent has sprouted. I'm still dancing, and mostly still Everywhere right now, but, my yotie senses are tingling. He wants to fix me in a Moment. A moment that I don't know what or why, but, I'm not so sure that I want to be in. He stops dancing. He comes in close to me. Sympathy(?) and concern start to seep from his eyes. And he says to me, "Hey, by the way... Are you ok?"

"Huh? What? Yeah, I'm great! :D " I say, still feeling the room and dancing.

The Concern ramps up, and he adds to it with an arm outstreched, and a paw laid upon my shoulder tenderly.

"No, I mean, are you really Ok...? It's been a long time since we've really talked..."


Woah woah woah... What???

The infinite probability wave that I'm riding colapses into a single point, and now I am just in this Moment, and no other. His eyes are like the cones of two tractor beams, pouring fourth their terrible, awful, sympathy... that the entity of my consciousness cannot escape, pull though it tries every which way. Panic. Hyperventillation in my chest.

What? WHAT??

Aviators down *clang!*

Stop looking into me. Mirrors. Youuuuuuu... see yourself, right now. See whatever the fuck it is you want to see. I need to process this place now, wherever the fuck it is you've decided to fucking drag me.

My jaw is on the floor.

There is a wetness at my eyes.

I rub them with my paw, pull it away... tears.. Wha- WHAT? I'm fucking crying?? What did you just do to me???

Am I ok?

Am I ok...


Well, let me see...

I'm at one of the biggest fur cons in the entire world. I'm at the best party at said furcon. I am in *the* place, where pretty much almost everyone of relevance to my life either is, or wants to be, right now, doing exactly what I want and love to be doing, sharing in this comraderie, happy, energetic, smiling, laughing, dancing, feeling so alive...

Am I ok...

Well I mean, I WAS ok... to really really the best of my knowledge, until you asked me that, Commander Buzz Killington!

And yet, you choose *this* moment, while all of this is going on, to look me in the eyes with your terrible sympathy... and ask me if I'm ok.

Well... CLEARLY if you need to do that, then... that MUST mean that there is something about me, even so, right now, which must be screaming out that I am, in fact, not ok. Right? I mean, why else would you fucking ask someone something like that, right now?

Power Word Kill.

In the same flash of that first instant, I find that I am now suddenly running diagnostics, doing internal inventory of all the reasons why I would or should possibly not be ok. What is it, where is it? What is the thing that made you say that? Do I have some kind of huge neon sign that says "DAMAGED!" burried in my chest, all Tony Stark-like? That everyone else but me can see?

Seriously, what else do I have to do at this point?! How much do I need to dance, how much do I need to laugh, how much do I need to party, how much do I need to give, how much do I need to help, how much do I need to write, how much do I need to FUCK... before I am simply allowed to be ok again?

Somewhere in my head, sort of above and behind my right shoulder, Space Coyote is laughing at me...


Yes, Coyote. Thank you. You're right, it's very funny. It's fucking hilarious. I get it. I always get it.


The diagnostics report comes back, and dumps its results in my mind, a scatterd heap to sift through. Again, all of this all at once, still all in that same first micro-instant. Three years ago. All the drifting for a while afterwards. Limbo. The struggle forward. Building anew.. (But I'm here! Right now! So close... And all that shit's been old news for a good while now, anyway...) Mom... MOM! Mom... lots and lots of Mom...

Mom is gone...

The potential of Mom is closed, and all that remains now is what Is, what has been, what is fixed in time, forever.

And all of the things that I might have still wanted to say, to do... all of the things left that she will now never know about me, that I will not get to share with her, if I ever could or would have... And why, oh why didn't I visit more, and god, for fuck's sake, how could I have forgotten her last birthday last year..? And then all of those last few weeks at the end, and everything that I, *I* had to do, and see, and hear, and decide, that I can now never erase from my mind, cause dad was losing it, and no one else could, and I have to manage *MY* feelings, and Mom's feelings, and everyone else's feelings, and still somehow have to try to find the capacity to manage the actual situation, and I can't cry, I don't have time to cry, I have shit that I have to fucking *do*...

Fuck goddammit! I need a fucking cigarette...

I rush downstairs to go outside the club, no doubt confirming the answer for my friend's question in the negative, and prompting him to be even more concerned and sympathetic. (Every time I see him for the rest of the night, I am terrified of him, and do my best to avoid him.) I get outside at last, pull out my wallet, gingerly open it, and in the one particular compartment, stare protectively at the single strand of silver hair that is there... that, just a few months ago, I noticed, and furtively snatched up like a diamond from a particular bed pillow, when all of the rest was already gone...


"Hi Quentin, this is your mother (and, I think you have my name and phone number!) Uhmm... Just give me a ring, when you have a chance. I love you. Bye."

This is the only recording of my mother's voice that I have. It's now a sound file, saved somewhere on my computer. It's the last voice mail that she ever left me. She'd already been in the hospital for some time, but it was while she was still lucid, and before fatigue, and her body shutting down, started to take her mind. But not long before... Only a day or two. Then, there were one or two text messages, that... were not so coherent. I... didn't save those. But, that's when I knew... This time... Of all the times throughout my life, with her... This is the One. This is the Last. Suddenly, I had to be there, full time.

But, this clip... this ten seconds of wave pattern... I have now played over and over and over again... Analyzing it in my mind, down to the microsecond. Searching for Her. Feeling for her personality, her essence, her soul. Everything that she ever was is in this clip. Her intellect, her wit, her humor, her warmth, her thoughtfulness, her love for me... Mom.

It is precious treasure.


I'm sitting by her bedside with her in the hospital. She'd been here now for... two months? After what was supposed to be a simple, in and out, heart arrythmia treatment, which she'd driven *herself* to the hospital for, did not go so well... and an artery ruptured... and they spent the rest of the night pumping... literally fifteen units of blood into her, while they'd tried to repair it. Things just... went down hill from there. But, that is already a lot of... bio things, and if I tried to sit here and relive and describe all of the bio things that I had to quickly crash course learn about to a pratically Doctorate level and, and... WITNESS, and bear hearing her cries of pain over, and... intelligently and pragmatically while I'm trying not to break down crying and freak the fuck out, DECIDE shit about when she couldn't anymore.. Well, then we'd be here all night. Or 2 - 3 weeks, as it turned out. And I can't do that anymore. But anyway...

But, for now, I am here at her bedside... I've gotten here first this morning. When I first walked in a little while ago, she was awake, and alert, lucid and calm. "Oh, hi there!" Her eyes lit up at seeing me. "Hi mamma." I come over to hug her gently and kiss her forehead. She's been here so long now, in this awful place. She is, as would be expected given all the circumstances, commensurately disheveled. But, she is still here, in all of her wonderful, defiant, Her-ness... Looking at her silver hair, I can still kind of detect the remnants of the rather jaunty perm treatment that she'd gotten herself, not long before all of this happened. I might be getting this wrong, but, it kinda reminded me of sort of this... retro hip, like... 1920's Flapper style, or something. Despite everything, it brings a slight curl of a smile to the corner of my mouth - a reminder still shining through, of normal life with her.

We talk for awhile. She tells me that, not long before I came in, that she was dreaming.. And that, in the dream, she thought that she was dead. And, she... made peace with... God... The Universe... Everything... Whatever. And that she was ok. And then she woke up, and she was still here...

We know. We both know. There is no use trying to hide it, or lie to each other about it. That would be dishonest, and the opposite of genuine connection, which is what we both dearly want with each other. We talk for awhile longer. I tell her about how... my whole life, when she's had her many health episodes... I felt like I was always kind of raised to ignore it, to not worry about it, she'll always get through it... cause otherwise, there were just always so many that, if we cried over every one, we would always all just be nervous upset wrecks about it. But... I've always known, ever since I was a little kid, that one day, the Last time would come... And, I don't know... I HOPE this isn't it! *Hugs tight* I love you so, sooooo much! But, I can no longer just bury my head in the sand anymore. Not now... Not like this.

Eventually, she falls asleep. I just sit there and... watch her for awhile. All my love, all of my memories washing over me. I must have fallen asleep, and leaned my head down on my arms there, on the hospital bed railing. The next thing that I'm aware of is the feeling of her hand upon my cheek. I open my eyes, and I see her looking at me, her love for me reflected right back at me, and she says, "Oh baby, please don't give up! A miracle could still happen... And you're right! I've always beaten these things before..."

And I smile, and I want to laugh, and I'm crying all at the same time, but also I want so desperately to believe her, but, I just know that this time it isn't true... and fuck fuck FUCK! I want to project that belief, and that encouragement for her back in my own eyes to her, but I can't cause we know it isn't true, and I can't lie to her, and so I smile and nod, but my eyes are sad and tearful, and I see her see it, and fuck goddammit... But, she knows it's true too, and I see that too...

She falls asleep for a little while again.

The next thing I know, she kind of bolts awake. But, this time, she's either... out of lucidity, or still dreaming a bit, or something. She has this almost... childlike quality about her face now in this moment... innocent. A little girl again. She turns her head, sees me, and in this almost... wondering, maybe even slightly exuberant voice, she says to me... "Is it Time yet?"

And I'm lauging and crying again, but right now she needs me to be the adult Protector, so I pull the skew towards the laughing, the love, and the careing.

"Yes," I say, the words catching a little in my throat, but with as much kindness and assurance as I can muster. "It is Time."

"Oh..." she says. "But... Isn't it too soon?"

More laughter from me, this time all genuine.

"Well... It's always too soon..."

She ponders this for a moment, in her little girl-ness... Then nods sagely, and drifts back to sleep.


Some time later. A week? Week and a half? I don't know, it's hard to keep track anymore. Too many horrors, too much pain. Also, the pain of false hope. A rally. Suddenly, we think, or are told, or are advised, there is actually stuff that can be done. (Please don't let me, whoever is there with me at my time, go through all this. Please don't do to me, what I did to her, and now can never undo, and will never know if it would have even made any difference at all, if I'd done it sooner or more or better. She asked me, when we heard all this stuff, "You mean, I still have a choice?" "Yes. Emphatically, cause of all this new doctor blah blah blah stuff, yes." "Good! Good. That's what I need to hear more of." Ok mom, then I will try. I will really, really try. I was only doing, at the time, what I thought was best, with what I knew at the time. I really really tried. I tried so fucking hard... I'm sorry...)

She's come awake again finally, after being put under for another surgery. This time, to insert a feeding tube into her stomach, cause she'd pretty much stopped eating entirely for about the past three weeks. And, her body needs food to heal itself, right? She's starving to death, and her body is eating itself now. This is my logic, in concert with what the doctors are now saying and giving options for, and so this is the decision I make when she's not lucid, and convince her of in the very fleeting few moments still, when she is. Months from now, well after she's gone, I will learn that this whole not eating thing, is actually an extremely common phenomenon in people who are dying. It is not a cause, it is an effect. But, here we are now, still fighting the inevitable, and prolonging the suffering for it.

She hears my voice, coming down the hall, looking for her in the recovery room. I hear her in turn, disoriented, but, latching on to my presence. Calling out to me, "Quentin! I hear you! Oh, I hear you..."

I come to her, and hold her hand, squeezing gently. The doctor there tells us that everything with this particular thing went well and as expected. She'll be able to start to get nutrition into her soon. Mom is coming more awake. She looks down at the clear plastic tube protuding from her belly. Mutters under her breath, "I feel like I'm a science experiment..." I tell her, I know... I'm sorry, but, this is supposed to make her better, like she wanted. More muttering, then kind of more directly to me, "I'm so tired of all of this. Can't you just go find a knife or something?" Defiant, fire. Classic Mom. I actually laugh out loud, despite myself. "No, I can't just go find a knife or something!" "Well, why not?!" More laughing from me. "Well, you mean besides the fact that I don't particularly feel like going to jail for murder?"

More muttering. "You know, you're killing me here with all of this stuff..." Me: full Coyote laugh. "Well... Yannow... you're telling me that I'm killing you, but a second ago, you were asking me to try to find a knife to go do exactly that. You really need to make up your mind here, ya know?"

Humor. That was the appropriate reaction, right? Cause it's funny...


One of the last times... She's asleep, and I am again laying my head down on my arms, on the bed railing over her. Just looking at her, watching her sleep. Her face is calm now. Not in any pain. And... I am just... such a little boy again. Somehow, though I'm looking down, looking up at her. looking up, through time. I'm so small... and she is so tall above me. And I am full of awe, and wonder, and love for her. She made me. She loves me. She would do anything for me, ever... She always has. She is one of the very few people on earth that, no matter what, no matter when, no matter where, I know without any hesitation, that she would always be there for me... care about me... help me... love me.

*I'm frightened* *How will I survive in this world without you?*

I must have fallen asleep.

Again, I am awakened by the feeling of her palm upon my cheek. I open my eyes to meet her's... full of all the love, and warmth, and concern for me in the universe. Lucid. "Are you ok?" she asks...

Am I ok?

Despite everything, my heart flutters, and I feel a smile and a laugh coming on, as I wipe the tears from my eyes.

Even after all of this, here, now, like this... All you can think of is to look after me? Ask me if I'm ok?

I let my laughter out for her, and tell her that yes, I'm ok... I think for a few moments longer, and then I say to her as I smile, "You know Mom... I really love how, even now, like this... you can still be the best Mom in the whole world, ever."

Again, her fiery defiance, as she turns away, and mutters to herself under her breath.

"Well, why can't I be?"


"You can, Mom. You totally can. You always are. And don't ever stop, cause, I love every bit of it..."


Don't ever stop.

I love you.

I will always love you.

Rest, in peace.


I'm back upstairs in the club again now, finally. Stitting on a bench in a back corner somewhere... brooding... staring angrily, forlornly, at the multitude reveling before me. Chin in my paw, scowl on my face.

Am I ok... Am I ok...

Fuck you.

How *dare* you ask me if I'm ok, here, now...

Am I ok...

What does that even mean? What is ok?

Does "Ok" mean, being in a Place? Belonging somewhere? I thought that I was in a Place, once, some time ago...

"One characteristic of Trickster is, he has no Place. Fish belong in the water, birds belong in the sky, etc. But, Trickster has no home..."

That phrase has vexed me, and caused me some amount of sadness, when I first saw it, and whenever I have come around again to ponder it. But...

But, for having no Place, no fixed way of Being on his own, Trickster is adaptive, and can move at will through all of them. When the river dries up, the fish will die. But, Trickster will learn the new Place, will survive, and will thrive."

Mmm... Indeed.

What else... What else we got here...?


Mmm. Let's step over here for a minute. Haven't been over here in awhile.

Hey, you. Yeah, YOU!

Haven't talked to You in quite awhile... neither in person, nor just in my head anymore, in a good long time now. Maybe, I do still have one or two things to say.

And yes, let's just get this first part out of the way.

So first of all, once again, fuck you. Fuck you for leaving me. Not only for the way that you did it, but, for doing it at all. My first, best student...

...and, my Teacher as well. When I was still a poor one myself, uncertain, insecure... excited but frightened, holding on for dear life as we discovered the secrets of the universe together. I don't know if I'm better at it now, but, I'm trying... I'm always learning. I wasn't ready. I didn't know who I was anymore, without you. I think though, that I've been finally getting a handle on that now. Ironically... it may be that, you didn't know who you were, without me anymore, either... and you had to go and figure that out. I understand that now.

I know that you loved me, once anyway, that you never wanted to hurt me, and that you were just as confused and frightened in your own way, about your own things, and, that you were just simply trying to do your best that you knew how to, with what you had, and with what you knew at the time.

I forgive you. I hope that you're doing well now, wherever you are. I hope that you're happy.

I'm sorry for any way that I hurt you, during, or since, too.


I'm going to die one day.

I'm going to die one day, and then all of my stories will end...

I already know what it's going to look like, too. I will be drifting off into some kind of... non-lucid otherwhereness... And I will be seeing whatever it is that I see there, experiencing whatever I'm experiencing, talking to whomever I will talk to... like mom was.. And I'll be doing that, and suddenly I will go.. Man, what a story this would make! I gotta go write this stuff down, I gotta share this with the everybody! But, I will never get to come back out, to do it. My Last story... I will tell only to Me.

Will I die alone? *sob... moment of melancholy*


*You are never alone. You are surrounded, litteraly and figuratively, by people that love you, and care about you. You are valued. You will be missed. You will be remembered and loved, by people that you loved, who mattered to you.*


"Let there be light..."


The music is playing, the crowd is dancing... and it at last, once again, contains among it, a certain particular coyote...

Oh. And, by the way?

Yes, I'm ok.

Thanks for asking.
quentincoyote: (Default)
Is there anyone still here? Just wondering.
quentincoyote: (Default)
As I've mentioned previously, we will be having a Thanksgiving potluck meet here at our place. The meet will be on Saturday Nov. 19th, starting around noon, until whenever, and we will have crash space for the weekend.

At this point though, I really need a more firm headcount of how many will be coming, so that we have an idea how big a turkey we need to get. (Once again, we'll be providing a turkey with the usual trimmings, but we ask that in the potluck style, everyone please bring at least one thing to share.)

Please note that, while we've got a decent amount of room here, we don't have an infinite amount of space, so if the guest list gets too large, I'll have to start cutting it off. That being the case, the sooner you let me know that you're coming the better, please. :)

At the moment so far, we have:

Crimson Wolf
Cody Fox
Syler Husky
Kojack Coyote

Any updates or corrections, please let me know, and please let me know what you will be bringing for potluck!
quentincoyote: (gaycoyote)
June 30, 2011

Chatting on AOL Instant Messenger with laquerida15 from quentincoyote

laquerida15 (10:45:17 PM): hey.

laquerida15 (10:45:24 PM): Hey what's up? 24/F here. You?

quentincoyote (10:45:47 PM): I'm gay, and you're a bot. Bye.

laquerida15 (10:45:57 PM): Im not a freaking bot

quentincoyote (10:46:11 PM): Yes you are, and either way I'm still gay.

laquerida15 (10:46:20 PM): Hmm. Have we chatted before?

quentincoyote (10:46:23 PM): I'm gay

laquerida15 (10:46:35 PM): Oh sorrry. l wasnt sure. Butt anyways.. What r u up to?

quentincoyote (10:46:57 PM): Having gay sex, cause I like penis and semen.

laquerida15 (10:47:06 PM): Ooo. Im like sooo bored.

laquerida15 (10:47:16 PM): Hey l got a idea. Ima get on my webcam. Do you wanna watch?

quentincoyote (10:47:51 PM): Why should I give a shit, you're a bot, why don't you just delete the boredom?

quentincoyote (10:48:22 PM): Watch what? You play with your robot pussy?
quentincoyote: (Default)


I love you. A part of me always will. But, it is too late for us. We walk on different paths now. You helped me find who I am today, and I will always thank you for that. Go now, face yourself. Find out who you are. You cannot, you can never know what you are Doing, until you know what you Want. Find that first. Find your inner strength. Find the You that you wish to be. Husky. Purple Stripe. Lover. Friend. Brother. Firebrand. Fellow Seeker, Traveler, Adventurer in this life.

I will see you again some day. Make me proud of you. I have faith in you that you can, and will.

Go now. Go in peace, and remember Me, as I remember You. Be well.

[Edit: and after all of that, almost a year later in the end, the date is funny, isn't it? #thecoyote-est]
quentincoyote: (Default)
Got this one last year at Feral, actually. Feels about right, now, to finally trott this one out.

The Full Coyote


quentincoyote: (Default)
Quentin Coyote

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