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I'm afraid to go outside.

They're outside, the bottles of cough syrup, and the blunts, and joints, and cans of Four Loko. And, worst of all, the evangelical Christians.

I'm staying in the dark, under my blankets, where they can't get at me.

Cough syrup, blunts, joints, and Four Loko taste good; that much is true. The problem is, they stay in my body too long, and cause major harm, but just after extended use.

Now, evangelical Christians, they taste good, too; well, at least their sweet love does, and their sweet Gospels, which they vibrate from pulpits in large, sweet churches, sometimes of a mega-quality. For the moment, accepting Jesus Christ as Saviour of my Heart, and Soul, feels great, sublime, just wonderful; except for the fact that becoming a pious angel at 15 takes away my innocence, leaves me doubting whether it is okay to masturbate, or enjoy secular literature or music, at least I'm going to heaven when I die! No hell for me!

Funny, though; after such a short period of time, and even longer after, small thoughts of doubt become large delusions of "good-bye" in my upper mind, as I begin to think a lot about how following Jesus Christ to the extreme would mean giving up everything secular: including SoFurry, where there is so much color, and life, and weird shit, and my esteemed literature, and my music. Well, it's not "my" music, or "my" literature, to point out; it's other people's, and artist's, but I enjoy it nonetheless. I have chosen to enjoy it.

This is why I'm a furry. This is why I dream of being a "stripper mouse", like in "The Great Mouse Detective" (I Want to Be Good to You).

I want to be risque, without the unnecessary added guilt. I want to be one of the "ladies", and be "normal", and not so "spiritual" in the soul, like born-again.

I would pay God one trillion dollars to undo my born-again-ness, to take away all the deep feelings of overburdening wisdom that I have placed upon myself, to just be a regular human being again.

Perhaps you find me a tad egotistical, or a bit whining. Maybe you are saying "Get over yourself", and "just leave your faith". How do you know I haven't done all I could do, to the best of my ability? Maybe I haven't. In fact, I haven't, I'm sure, but I've done more than the bare minimum to get along with myself, to become comfortable in my own skin, and still, I would like to toss away my "disposable soul", this dirtied spiritual existence, in lieu of a more pleasant innocent dream, where the floor of the world of which I am to walk is clean and white, and my mind, and soul, know nothing, therefore, I am nothing. _ In that _nothingness, I am an actual "reborn", with no leftover pollution of abusive Gods, and discriminate dogmas. With the first thing I contact, I would know, and reflect, and experience as myself.

Maybe that "stripper mouse".

I'm really hung up on the "stripper mouse". She sure is sexy, and is more than not most interested in giving me deep throat, than trying to wither my mind, and soul with legalistic chains of harrowing Pauline Gospel.

And now, a word from our sponsors:

I'm losing ground

You know how this world can beat you down

And I'm made of clay

I feel I'm the only one who thinks this way

I do not want this feeling

And don't you tell me how I feel

Don't you tell me how I feel

You don't know just how I feel

I stay inside my bed

I have lived so many lives in my head

And don't tell me that you care

There really isn't anything now, is there?

I do not want this feeling

And don't you tell me how I feel

You don't know just how I feel

I want to know everything

I want to be everywhere

I want to fuck everyone in the world

I want to do something that matters*

I'm afraid to go outside, but I do.

I know the cough syrup, blunts, joints, and Four Lokos are out here, but the last I checked, they have no legs, so they cannot get at me, unless I get at them first.

The evangelicals? Well, they can walk, and talk, and maybe one day they will carry me away, along with the rest of American society, and force all of us to swallow a strict, conservative word of God, or choose death, but for now, the mandate has not been set.

And as for my heart, and soul? Well, I don't know right now. I've tried the drugs, the alcohol, and the running away. That didn't work. On a less, but maybe not so, serious note, I haven't tried outrageous cross dressing, orgy sex that lasted for months, or fasting for a few weeks, and having "visions".

However, I will say one thing I have done, and that one thing I have done right now: calling out my demons, and embarrassing them tonight, being honest to as severe a degree as I know without going crazy, and putting on the dress of warrior of which I choose to call a BRAVE NEW FUR . . .

right now. Every day.

And, oh well, what the hell, if that is where I go because of this, then at least I was true to myself,

you motherfucking evangelical Christians

(sans the Catholic priests, and my good parents, because they always gave me the love, and support I needed, and that's what's up).