~2019

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June is the month of Pride and I promise to do something for him. But to promise this one thing, but to do something completely different. Within a month, I didn’t have a really good idea, that I’d want to do. Lot of time and absolutely zero inspiration. And to draw nonsense, only to that was, unusual for my nature. But then I saw an update of the status of my dear friend, Lapis, which said, that the Da bot (more than sure, that the bot did not do this on its own) reported about his stamp, created with a friend, as mature content.

Then it turned out that, probably, not distinguished by a special mind, the humans see a hint of bestiality in the transspecies. Which is absolutely untrue, as the transspecies has nothing to do with this shit. And in the description of the stamp there was not a single word about the fact that the transspecies have a sexual desire for animals, but they are forced to abstain from their sick desires because of the law. But some jerk saw IT there and complained. Just disgusting and wrong. And, of course, I was hurt. I HATE it when people, because of their prejudice, desecrate good things. Therefore, I made a decision to dedicate the end of the month to the Pride of transspecies. In the end, this is what I am. If you don’t like it and consider me to be some kind of fucking zoophile, then fuck you, seriously.


I suffer from species dysphoria all my life and continue to suffer every day. If you think this is some kind of fucking joke, then fuck you. You can not even imagine how painful it can be when you are locked up, as if in a cage, in a completely unfamiliar shell and you cannot be in with self. Have you ever wanted to go down on all fours and move this way? No, because for you it will be strange and humiliating. And I always wanted to, because it is natural for me. I am a Maned wolf and it is normal for us to move on all four limbs. And I did. As a child, this was my most common movement. Just like other things I did: drink water with tongue; bark; grin teeth; whine and howl; fight using teeth and claws; swim like a dog; dig the ground or sand to hide their “prey” in it; to hunt for small animals, snakes and birds; communicate with dogs on an equal footing, invite them into the game and even bite while, dominating; explore and defend your territory and more. But then all this was considered by adults as an element of the game that would pass with age, so it was permissible. I did not realize then how much I should have appreciated my childhood, because now such behavior is no longer normal, no longer permissible. And it hurts me. I have to suppress all natural instikty in me and behave properly, otherwise cannot survive in the world of people. Only in privacy can I feel myself and be myself. Sometimes I even begin to lose my true nature when I have to pretend to be another kind for too long.


I dedicated this picture to my childhood years when I was still playful puppy and enjoyed learning about the world around me. Our country house was not far from the bay, where the majestic kingdom of sand stretched. Pure white sand, waves going into the thicket. Not far from the beginning of the forest there is a whole flock of sand dunes with yellow-green grass and bushes, sometimes even with trees. I loved the dunes and spent a lot of time there. One of the dunes even became a “den” for me, because tall grass grew on it and there was soft sand, from which many bushes and three trees stuck out. It was a tiny patch of forest. And he was mine. There were not many tourists and usually they didn’t touch the dune and no one was disturbing me there. I hid everything found in my “lair”: feathers, mollusk shells, interesting stones, and other marine finds. I hunted gulls, disentangled their tracks and found nests, but did not touch them, I was more interested in the pursuit of birds. Of course, I never managed to catch at least one of them. The human body is made stupid and absolutely not for hunting. But it did not upset me. I was really happy.

And then I grew up and the dunes changed forever. Every year there were more and more tourists and they began to rest on the dunes: kindling bonfires or putting barbecues, leaving behind coals; drink alcohol and eat, and then throw it all right next to it, thereby contaminating the sand with shrapnel and various debris; sit on trees, breaking or tearing their branches; shit, puke and piss in the bushes ... The sand dunes were not more beautiful than before. The sand has become hard and dirty. The grass and bushs dried out. Trees turned into ragged trunks. Gulls no longer nest there. Dunes have become a mountain of garbage and vice of humanity. Now they are sad to look at and I no longer go to them. But they are still beautiful in their memories ... and now in the picture.


The Maned wolf's palette was matched to the color of the stamp, that is, it was chosen in such a way as to represent the spectrum of ultraviolet rays. Ultraviolet, as you know, can not be seen, this is the whole point. Surrounding will never see us as we really are. They will see just a stupid boy who climbed onto a sand dune and sat down there like a dog. Just a stupid boy and nothing more.


Alwin, the Maned wolf is my wolf form, the true form. Prohibited copy/use without my permission