Roady @Roady_Dragonfae@awoo.space

I had felt that completing my suit was a very cathartic completion of myself.

But, I didn't recognize the full strength of its power until I took it out for a test run in West Seattle yesterday.

It was a day that I can safely say is the most regenerative I've had all year.

Showing the world my true form. Accessing the sacred space of the one park I hold so dear. To see the smiling faces and receiving the stellar compliments of everyone on the beach....

That was a truly powerful, magical, and regenerative place for me to be.

I couldn't be more grateful for it.

@kd@yiff.life Gladly~

Well fuck.

For the longest time I thought my rising sign was Virgo.

I looked at my natal chart again and realized that Venus was in Virgo, yes.

But my rising sign is actually...Gemini?

That leaves a lot of pondering there.

What reality is there to escape from when it's all an illusion in the first place?

It's all a matter of unlocking the mind and rediscovering who we truly are. Why we chose to have this experience.

Thus is time to break the peptide chains of self doubt and cultural restraint.

The more I ponder, I'm starting to realize...

That all nighter I spent making my wings was some kind of purge.

My body and my brain were fighting me tooth and nail as I forced myself to continue sewing. These inner demons trying to keep me on the ground. Dredging up nasty feelings, thoughts, and memories and spewing them all over the place. I imagine the conductive properties of the copper wire frame only amplified whatever energy was being channeled and discharged.

Now, in the following days, I feel like a wall has been torn down. Ropes have been cut. This fursuit isn't just for kicks. It's a truly sacred expression of my inner being and rebuilding it has brought forth a total realignment.

By making those wings I have officially made myself whole...

3:33

I had a moment that's still ongoing.

A "They Live" moment.

An illusion shattered.

All of these scribbles stamped on metal, wood, and glass. All of these random lines and curves that I'm pouring out onto my screen right now.

It feels like gibberish.

Do words no longer have power over me and now I'm seeing them for what they are?

As mind control devices that dark magicians have mastered to enslave and hypnotize an entire populace?

James Joyce izn'othawhorly forzaneiture. Tree peijas inta Finnugahns wayk n'd I aredifiel mai brensels alainin' to his wathufukish thouprahses. Hooneedzassid wenya got ol'books of oiresh mamblings?