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I've retconned the titles of these entries, and decided to give them each a theme, in order to help them retain a sense of seperate identity, so that they don't all blur together into one great mess of words.

Today's tale deals with my impotent rage toward a perceived offender.

I am not a good boy. I hide my pain and dismay behind an aloofness, and behind that, a layer of generosity and easygoing nature. Both layers are... well, it wouldn't be fair to call them manufactured--but they're not in control, either.

I want to be the good-natured party lover who can buy everyone a drink, or treat everyone to dinner, or show everyone the latest game that's a good playthrough. I like entertaining people.

But since I've been young, a tumor has been growing beneath the surface--something malignant. People's abuse, my misunderstanding, inability to read emotions clearly through my autistic perceptions of tone of voice and facial expressions, it's snowballed. I can't say much for the people of today, but back then I was feared like a raccoon, or a wild dog.

The thing is, people are... repugnant to me. To me, people have this idea that we can be genuinely good, and live up to that standard, somehow. Part of this perception comes from my Christian upbringing. In practice, however, I see that people don't care about nonsense like 'Good', or 'Evil'. Those notions are merely blunt objects--tools of language to push an agenda, spur an emotion from the hasty thinkers among us... No... people don't care about morality. They care about their wants, and needs. They care about feeling secure, and 'oppression' is the same thing as 'strange' or 'different' to them.

I was the different one once, and I was mistreated. I want to be the different one again, and give revenge.

I've dwelt upon it a long time--being a species traitor, being a deviant, an anarchist. I've wanted to inflict 'difference' upon people, like a contagion. I've wanted to force people to embrace their animal nature--to stop hiding behind flimsy, petty language terms that have been ridden like prostitutes. The very notion of a "Greater Good" is so used up and trite, that it cannot possibly contain the virtue it purports to embody.

I have so much hidden rage, that I contain on a daily basis. I don't allow myself to hurt people... but I still hurt, inside.

Before I even knew what homosexuality was, a middle-schooler on my bus in third grade was firing staples at me, and calling me a faggot. I didn't even do anything to that person, but try to keep to myself. Maybe at one point, I was open, and playful, or something--and I just ate shit for it.

It's weird how cruelty passes from one person to the next, in ripples, changing us each for the worse... making us so guarded and callous.

I want to get back to that innocence as much as I want vengeance. I think that's why I settled on wildness... ferality... transformation. I wanted to be something far removed from the societies and people I was so used to--far from the denial that we can be selfish. The religious seem to have this problem where we deny one another the potential for personal evil. We try to neuter the need for security from one another. We try to wallpaper the fact that evil is a part of us, a notion 'invented' by us, and not the product of some foreign devil. In this neutering, we have become afraid of outside influences. Like it or not, I was an outsider... and I remain one, even as a regular old human being.

So my fursona is one of sacrilegious, wild magic--of illusions, and impersonations, and sexual deviancy, gender bending, and conversion of men and women to a more carnal, and unified spirituality. Not under a sect, but under the mantle of a physiological species. I'm not clean enough to be a Hitler, not scientifically methodical enough to be a Mengele, and I'm not spiritual enough to be some kind of pack or tribe leader--not charismatic enough to be a Charles Manson.... and I guess I should stop comparing myself to figures of infamy, the few I know.

I think of myself more like a Sadako Yamamura, a Sae Kurosawa, a Reika Yukishiro, or Kirie Himuro. An innocent and wronged person who was twisted and transformed by cruelty, into a monster... someone with a vague chance at redemption, that I keep clawing for.

I hope I find it before I hurt someone.