| Current mood: | jealous |
| Current music: | Bis - Social Dancing |
The Gratuitous Self-Wanking of Rikoshi Kisaragi
In May 2001, I wrote an essay for my old (now defunct) website entitlted Furry: Illusion of Solidarity</b>.
Looking back on this now, I feel like a right wanktastic chump. This was back in my "Closet Furry" days ('Rikoshi' didn't exist back then). What I say in this little 'informative' essay (aimed at a non-Furry crowd) still makes sense, I guess, but when I read it now, I can sense a strong undercurrent to my words.
That undercurrent is: "Ohgodohgodohgod PLEASE don't think I'm a weirdo pervert! Let me now highlight other people to look stranger than me so none of you will think bad things about me!" I could have said something like, "Hey, I'm a Furry, but I happen to not be into X, Y, and Z." But no, instead, I had to go and say, "I'm not a Furry, because I'm not icky and weird!" Self-denial at its best, folks.
At the time, I didn't really have any "contact" with the Furry community. I just sort of observed lurkishly, too afraid from using my reverse-psychology TWS excuse which allowed me to peruse Furry art galleries ad infinitum. (Note: this isn't to say that a lot of Furry art isn't TWS-worthy and horror-inspiring--quite the contrary...)
But, here I am, just over two years later. It's July 19, and I'm deeply depressed because I can't be at Anthrocon in Philadelphia with my far-away Furry friends. My Furry roommate is making me a cup of tea while my other Furry roommate is out with one of our mutual Furry friends to go food shopping.
Repent, little fox. Repent.