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| Name: | Corrosive Entity in City Offline | State: | Other | Species: | Erosion avatar fox | Gender: | Male | Age: | 34.7 | Relationship: | Rather Not Say | Sexuality: | Hetero-Sexual | Group Memberships: | Supporter Founding Member Donator
Blocked Steam furs | Member ID: | 5475 | Status: | Offline | Last Active: | 04-22-2024 00:01 AM | Profile Views: | 14315 | Distance: | Miles | Skype: | Hidden from Guests | Kik: | Hidden from Guests | YIM: | Hidden from Guests | FurAffinity: | Hidden from Guests | Facebook: | Hidden from Guests |
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About Me:
:Profile picture from Mala:
The Despoliation
Constant bombarding thoughts tearing at his sanity, thoughts of paranoia causing him to push others away. He constantly pursuit of loyalty unable to meet his satisfaction with the dwelling thoughts shrouding the reality. Madness only cascades into more madness, each step closer to others who seem to agree with his thoughts only pushes him further in, enabling his way of thinking. It manifests into a toxic behavior and causes touch to be so noxious that it tears at the essence of everything, as if time itself withers it away.
He remembers growing in a steam village, that has discarded modern ways of living. The belief of a replenishment system that refuels into itself by using wood to burn and create energy, and using ash to feed and provide nutrition for growth of more to burn, provides its occupants with a feeling of fulfilment, as if they have found a way to satisfy the environment with their way of gathering energy. The town grows and grows, and find it hard to sustain. Habitants argue about seeking new ways, while some ignore the possibility of demands overthrowing their belief. More and more it becomes evident, their 'infinite' cycle has a very finite limitations.
Research and developement for new way of obtaining and replenishing their energy. A fox sits in his home and stumbles around upon the thoughts in his head. The thoughts grow and grow and refuses to slow down. He starts to feel frustrated, trapped within his mind as if it's on the tip of his tongue. A gut wrenched feeling makes him begin to feel sick as he ponders. As he feels the thoughts slipping away he tries to focus harder. His mind breaks, and blood trickles down his nose. He loses sight and slips into sleep. Awakened by the feeling of falling, he sees light breaking through the window. He stretches out and sets off to make food, the smell radiates through the house as his mind passes hints of the previous night with sharp pain. He sets forth to a clinic.
He finds himself sitting amongst individuals with cuts, scrapes and allergies. Coughing coming from all around like an echo in an empty room. He finally hears his name, and approaches the door. A doctor standing there with some clip board. After being questioned and prescribed, the doctor sends him off. As he walks through the doors he walks to the pharmacy and picks up his medication. He waits until he gets home to take his first dosage.
Precaution was always in his best interest, sitting down at his table with some food in his stomach and an empty plate in front of him, he takes his meds. The thoughts become more loud and uncontrolable. Forgetting what he was straining so hard to think for, he finds himself being lost in obscene thoughts of betrayal. Without any logical reasoning he shrugs it off. He places more wood into his fire, sitting, facing the flames. He looks deep into the light illuminating the room, and loses track of time.
He awakes from his warm slumber, and finds his hermit style is needing a break. He walks outside and feels as if life should guide him on a miniature adventure. His thoughts whisper as each individual walking by, filling him with an uneasy feeling of doubt. He begins to dip into the water concealing his eyes. With each passing day he finds it harder and harder to ignore the voices of doubt.
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