Big Coyote Energy

*Note this was originally written January 2018, and was based on writings on fetlife.com at the time. *  How you can help instead of harm. A few key points to countering abuse, shitty behavior and making the scene (and the world) a better place. Discussions, writings upon writings upon writings on K&P, tears, heartfelt conversations, getting anxious on twitter (that last one is me), but what can we do to attempt to make improvements? Call out your friends. It doesn’t have to be publicly and it doesn’t have to be loudly. But if you see your friend do something shitty, or say something then. Something as simple as “Wow, that was shitty, why would you say that?” or “That wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t say that or do that to someone.” Will go a long way. It allows the group of people you’re in to also feel compelled to speak up. The bystander effect is real. When I started calling out the behavior of my relatives at holiday gatherings, shit got a lot better for everyone. And it ...

This isn't hard. I FOUND SOME READING FOR PEOPLE WHO SEEM TO BE HAVING TROUBLE UNDERSTANDING. YOU'RE WELCOME. What is racism. Why reverse racism isn't a fucking thing. But black people are racist. White privilege, you got it!* But not all white people. Let me play Devil's Advocate for a minute. If this is new to you, and if it is, that's ok, you're going to have some feelings to work through. I'm working through some of my own right now. It's ok to have feelings. It's not ok to snap at POC about how you feel you're except from the racist culture that permeates America. I'm guilty of it, you're guilty of it. We're all guilty of it. BUT, we can use our WHITE PRIVILEGE, to try to fucking do better. So let's do it, shall we? Full disclosure, I've skimmed a lot of these articles, they sum up things I've read and discussed with people in the past, my brain issues are not allowing me to read long articles at ...

[Coyote] She knows it is time to leave. He took off the collar, and with it, everything they ever were melts into memory. She will go, for a time, but always return. The range of her territory, grows slowly outward, in a spiral. She returns to him, his love, his home, his arms. Less and less often. One little thing at a time. He can't be there to feed her today. But maybe tomorrow. She'll stay around hungry for a couple of days, but after that she'll go off on her own. Hunting, scavenging, scrounging. Doing what she's always done. Then the new of 'it will be weeks' until she sees him. She knows. She's always known. This is just not a thing she can have. She is not His, not anymore. Not now. She will check his home often at first, and less often as time goes on. Checking for signs of a fresh scent or activity. Food or treats left out, so she knows he's thinking of her, even if he can't be there. But she knows these things too, will fade and...

I've been having a lot of issues with my anxiety lately, and some depression. The last one isn't common for me. Usually it's just anxiety. But depression has moved in, and it gets to drain the color out of my world. It saps me of my motion. Mires me in a bog of nothingness and I don't know where or how to find the energy to change it. The wounds are fresh and they bleed. I hate it. Even typing this causes me to snarl. It's true. I hate it, but I hate admitting it even more. I hate the way my anxiety locks me up. It isn't just flight or flight... There is a third option, freeze, which is what my anxiety does to me. That's an old battle. The scars are few now, but those that remain are long, and deep. New feelings come from inadequacy. The weasels start to run and shift through my brain like a water in a stream. They sneak into nooks and crannies and eat away the good, and there they stay. Eating. Moving. Writhing. Deeper and deeper. Working towards the...