How am I? [Part 1]
Dec. 9th, 2016 12:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quentincoyoteAroo.
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!
"WHAT WE HAVE MADE IS REAL!!!"
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!!!
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.
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 ANYWAY...
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...
...
HOW MANY GODDAMNED FUCKING TWEETS WOULD THIS BE, THIS STORY THAT HAVE WRITTEN HERE NOW AND AM MAYBE NOT EVEN HALFWAY FUCKING FINISHED WITH YET, HUH??? FUCK! YOU! LITTLE RED 140 CHARACTER TWITTER NUMBER COUNTING DOWN TELLING US TO STOP SPEAKING, EXPRESSING OURSELVES, SHOUTING OUT TO THE WORLD WHO WE TRULY ARE, NOT SOME CHEAP SHITTY FINAL FANTASY 7 CHIBIFIED CARICATURE OF OURSELVES! YOU ARE THE FUCKING DEVIL INCARNATE! YOU ARE THE ORWELLIAN 1984 "DUCKSPEAK" LANGUAGE, WITH IT'S MAIN FEATURE BEING MORE AND MORE WORDS REMOVED FROM IT EVERY YEAR, SO THAT PEOPLE CAN NO LONGER EVEN THINK OF COMPLEX CONCEPTS ANYMORE, NO LONGER HAVING THE FUCKING WORDS WITH WHICH TO THINK ABOUT THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE! FUCKING! KILL! YOURSELF!
***
***
***
*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.]
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!
"WHAT WE HAVE MADE IS REAL!!!"
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!!!
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.
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 ANYWAY...
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...
...
HOW MANY GODDAMNED FUCKING TWEETS WOULD THIS BE, THIS STORY THAT HAVE WRITTEN HERE NOW AND AM MAYBE NOT EVEN HALFWAY FUCKING FINISHED WITH YET, HUH??? FUCK! YOU! LITTLE RED 140 CHARACTER TWITTER NUMBER COUNTING DOWN TELLING US TO STOP SPEAKING, EXPRESSING OURSELVES, SHOUTING OUT TO THE WORLD WHO WE TRULY ARE, NOT SOME CHEAP SHITTY FINAL FANTASY 7 CHIBIFIED CARICATURE OF OURSELVES! YOU ARE THE FUCKING DEVIL INCARNATE! YOU ARE THE ORWELLIAN 1984 "DUCKSPEAK" LANGUAGE, WITH IT'S MAIN FEATURE BEING MORE AND MORE WORDS REMOVED FROM IT EVERY YEAR, SO THAT PEOPLE CAN NO LONGER EVEN THINK OF COMPLEX CONCEPTS ANYMORE, NO LONGER HAVING THE FUCKING WORDS WITH WHICH TO THINK ABOUT THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE! FUCKING! KILL! YOURSELF!
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*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.]
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