Roady @Roady_Dragonfae@awoo.space

Jesus fucking Christ... I'm finally doing it. I'm going on a keto diet plus intermittent fasting and holy shit has it been driving me mad.

In all honesty, I'd rather stay locked up in isolation than have anyone deal with whatever demons are working their way out of me. I won't be socializing much. That's for sure.

I'll be fine. It's just a really good example of "this too shall pass."

This weekend is a perfect storm. Literally. I'm cooped up inside my ship, rain pounding, going nutty from the start of a keto diet, and I'm about to smoke a bowl of Alien Asshat and go soaring off into space in hopes I find whatever guides I need to make it through these turbulent times. Jesus fuck I'm hitting a whacky combination of extreme highs and extreme lows.

As I continue to seek out a streamlined method of describing postfurry, I can sum my perspective in one single paragraph.

While "core furry" is materialistic, Postfurry is existential. We collectively share the struggle of existing as nonhuman beings inhabiting a human vessel. Not only is it a gender struggle, it's the added effect of not even feeling human to begin with.

It's not easy to focus on living a long and healthy life in a society that promotes unhealthy habits.

For the longest time, not having enough food was a major issue. Now? It's eating too much. Society wants that. They want me to be overfed and sick. So my lifespan is nearly halved by my body's preoccupation with constant digestion.

I'll keep fighting though. I'll fight for my right to live past 100. Even if people scoff at my intermittent fasting or small portion sizes.

People are going on and on about how we're on the cusp of WWIII, and all I can think is "Where has everyone been these last 15 years??"

The third world war didn't start with nukes falling from the sky. We're already in it, and have been for a while. Because America was built on conquest, and by running out of things to conquer it lashed out at the world like a spoiled child because the system relies on a made up enemy to keep people afraid and compliant.

Then the X-Files being
Looking like some kind of blue-green. Jackie Chan
With Isabella Rossellini lips, and breath that reeked of
Vanilla Chig Champa
Did a slow-mo Matrix descent
Outtathe buttendofthebananavesseland hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw
And my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip
And all I could think was:
"I hope Uncle Martin here doesn't notice
That I pissed my fuckin' pants!"

Fuck college expenses. Go to the library.

What better music to play in rainy, dreary downtown Seattle than the soundtrack to Blade Runner?

Holy shit. As far as big communal camping tents go, why settle for a 12 person tent? Let's fit up to 20!

https://rover.ebay.com/rover/0/0/0?mpre=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ebay.com%2Fulk%2Fitm%2F173242842224

Holy shit. I just had a dream that I was collaborating on a project with John Carpenter.

I love balsam fir incense. In the absence of a fireplace, the inside of my van can still smell like a cabin.

Force feed me lectures. I eat them up like crazy! Never stop learning!

Terence McKenna
Alan Watts

Up Next: Robert Anton Wilson
Carl Jung (Refresher)

Terence McKenna has a very entertaining way of explaining his existential viewpoints. But compared to Alan Watts, he sounds a little less grounded. McKenna is very floaty and wayward, while Watts has his roots planted. Both have merit in what they do.

First time in years I've ever laid eyes on daytime TV and I have to put up serious psychic defenses to keep my soul from being sucked out of my sockets.

Fuck... On the day I'm supposed to go to a rally against Amazon downtown, one of my rear tires goes out. Here's to hoping I have better luck on Mayday.

A friend of mine asked if he could borrow my van for a new delivery job.

Dude. You've seen my van. That would be like me knocking on your door and asking if I could kick you out of your apartment so I can work on my art.

I've always mused at the idea of just omitting pronouns entirely. In its place, just addressing everyone by name. That seems to be the most nonbinary linguistic conclusion I can find.

I'm just a Roady. Simple as that.