Born To Be An Abstract Concept, Forced To Be A Percievable Entity

guh

im not really doing my job very well rn, I'm not very good @ comforting like I should be, I can't keep u safe. But don't worry about me, I'll do the best I can @ the only things I can do, I'll hold down the fort here while u go. take care dear, they won't sway me

jumping around follower lists, the wikipedia game, the reblog map...

It's all so beautiful, this web of connections we build...

🌕

nonhuman asks

what term(s) do you prefer to be referred to as (otherkin, therian, nonhuman, etc.)?

what are you(r kintypes/theriotypes)?

most niche/obscure 'type?

what foods do you associate with your 'type(s)?

what colors do you associate with your 'type(s)?

do you own any gear? if so, what is it?

best/favorite thing about being nonhuman?

worst/least favorite thing about being nonhuman?

what activities help you connect with your 'type(s)?

do you associate any music with your 'type(s)? do you have a playlist?

do you collect anything besides wearable gear that you associate with your 'type(s), such as plushies or merch?

do your 'type(s) influence your sense of style or the way you dress?

would you consider yourself a furry? if so, do you have a fursona? is your fursona based on one of your 'type(s)?

draw or share your artwork of your 'type(s)?

this isnt a question but a request that you drink some water!

authors note: feel free to reblog! other beings can ask you questions from this list, or you can simply answer them all yourself.

Is paper truly more sacred than bark or html?

Are candles really more holy than torches or gaslights?

Are sermons more true than stories or blogs?

Is a church more devotional than an alter or a website?

I need to wrap myself in my wings so badly. I need to curl up on my side, legs tucked to my chest with one arm under my head and the other around my knees, my tail curled to contour my legs, the feathers at the tip near my head, one wing sort of awkwardly scrunched behind me so I’m not squishing it while the other is folded over my head and upper body, my face buried in my feathers so I can’t see anything else, but I just know that I’m safe.

I miss my wings. I’m scared and featherless and so, so tired of being human. I’m so over this. I want to go home but home doesn’t exist here, not in this world.

reblog to give an angelkin their wings