Fighting Fursecution: Entry 5 - - - Eve of War
#5 of Fursecution Journals
Recorded on: June 12, 2023
Everyone in this war has only experienced loss... Me, the FLC, humans, furries... Somewhere in the back of my mind, I just want to give in to the sadness and hopelessness in my life. If it were possible, though it's a hard truth to swallow, I wish I could go back in time and not try and save my mom from death because in doing so, I doomed the rest of us to an early grave.
I know I have pushed myself past a limit I never thought I would know... Yet here I am, still trying to fight an unwinnable war just so I can solve a problem that I created... What little hope is pushing me onward? Why keep trying to persuade the FLC and everyone else on their side that even though we may no longer be human in the truest sense of the word, all us furries still have our humanity.
Even if I'm at war with myself whether or not at all we are doing the right thing by going up against the church, I for damn sure will never forget to remind everyone why we are fighting Fursecution... for freedom to be who we've become.
---Dr. Wolf Thompson
I could feel my back stiffen, my neck tighten as I realized I had not shifted my posture in a while well writing in my journal. I stretched out my legs and rubbed at an old existing gash still burning at my skin on the right haunch of my leg, my fur making it virtually impossible to treat it properly.
"The true problem with the drug Cedoperforin, aside from the animal side affect of course comes out of a mass marketing strategy designed by some executive looking to cash in on a few more dollars; it only protects your body for so long before you need another dose administered." I couldn't help but mutter under my breath, trying to hide the discomfort in my voice as I remembered this portion of television interview that had aired days prior to the war beginning.
To put it frankly, pain is being reintroduced into our collective bodies as furries because we have never had the chance to be administered the all important dose we need. Sooner than later, everyone will notice that they are not gods among men anymore and will question what was it all for? The drug is failing in the medicinal faculties it was designed for, and now I'll just look like this... we'll all look like this and have gone through all this anguish for nothing. Only with the cure that was invented, that is now in the hands of the FLC unfortunately, can I hope to develop an advanced cedoperforin, to save us from our new condition that healed us of our human one. I need to get this curse to work for us again or everyone who was sick is going to be ill again. I have to fix this; I'm the only one who can. It sounds like a shortsighted notion, that nobody else can help me but realistically it's the truth; I am everybody's last chance at a second chance, and that thought scares the hell out of me...
I rose slowly from the rock I was sitting on and decided on a small stroll through our little forty yard long resistance base made up entirely of only three tents and a make-shift guard tower constructed mostly out of old destroyed cars.
Though I am omniscient to the fact the resistance is looking towards me for hope and inspiration at all times, I can't help but walk with a posture that really speaks volumes about how I can't possibly be the leader they all need me to be. I can only listen to the lamentations of the soldiers as they pass by side, my soul corrupting, dying slowly as I hear all the stories of all their losses and how they always seem to end up blaming the scientist who invented the drug that gave us all new life, but took so much more away in the process, crafted by my own hand although no one knows who I really am thankfully.
I made my trek down to the tiny river that ran alongside the outside perimeter of the base and let my feet rest in its slowly flowing tide, feeling every rush of the water beating against my cut. I slid my hands down the length of my legs, washing away the dried blood that sadly I couldn't even remember where it had originated from; was it a product of my body or is it from someone else?
"My life sure didn't turn out how I hoped it would you guys." I chuckled slightly inwardly as I thought of my family long since passed away as I stared down into the water and saw my own reflection looking back at me. I touched softly at my muzzle and snout, staring hard at the wolf looking back at me, full well knowing that it's really just a man wearing a disguise. Though it may not be the mask I would want to keep forever, it is the one I've come to recognize as mine.
"How much farther can I go I wonder? How much man is left inside my soul?"
I fell back in the surrounding grass and let my eyes rest, feeling the wind beating lightly against my body, moving the fur on my chest in so soft a pattern I could swear someone was there rubbing me. I found myself turning on my side and clutching the grass, pulling at large clumps of the foliage as I felt my eyes begin to burn with the salty texture of tears. I began to pound at the ground with my fists, rending the earth with every blow. I could feel the vibrations resonate throughout my body, almost in tune with the beat of my heart. It didn't matter to me that I was cutting up my hands with every other punch because every time I stopped to stare at the damage caused, all I ever saw were these damn stupid paws...