Hello yet again! The raccoon is unstable 😖

(includes the third or fourth installment of the nameless story) Life has a funny way of kicking your ass does it not? Like you think you're doing all you can at the moment then somebody (in this case

@Jes Divine

and

@Truth Richardson

) just comes and kicks the carefully smoothed calmed dust up and you're left there covered in dirt but you see the stuff that you really aren't doing and it just a) makes you uncomfortable and b) makes you realize that there's more you need to be doing of you want to get better 😂

it's quite the learning curve and this raccoon never really got the hang of regulating and validating myself because I don't think I've ever had a healthy example of what that looks like, cause people say affirmations work wonders? They don't really for me, they just kinda settle in my chest and make me feel shitty about myself (even if it's the truth...) like I can't really remember when the last time I felt proud of myself because contrary to this conversation I was having with Jes and I told her that no emotions are bad or good, just neutral... I think being proud of myself is bad, y'know why? Cause I don't like being self absorbed (does being proud of yourself involve being self absorbed? I dunno I could be wrong)

Like I've always felt kind of ashamed to like buy things just for me even if it was simply a KitKat bar, so imagine trying to feel proud of yourself if you feel bad for buying yourself a dang KitKat of all things?! Like geez, anyway it's a work in progress but this time progress is slow but progress is progress.

(Next installment of the nameless story ⤵️🦝)

While waiting for another blasted water dwelling creature to show its face a sharp meow pierced the air followed by the appearance of a lanky looking orange cat. “Oh Bobble! I’ve searched everywhere for you!” The cat purred, speaking the language of the beings, prancing over to Bobble and rubbing against the opossum. I looked at the cat and contemplated attacking the feline, his guard was down and I was hungry. “Pickle!” Bobble greeted the cat, I ditched the creek water and my fur raised as I calculated the likelihood of me being able to take down the fruity acting cat, Pickle and Bobble reacquainted themselves while I raised to my hind legs and prepared for my assault, Pickle and Bobble seemed rather unaware of my looming attack. “Why are you in this messy forest, Bobble?” Pickle asked, tilting his head at Bobble waiting for an answer, Bobble’s body language shrank and I paused my preparation briefly to watch the opossum’s demeanor physically deflate. “Pickle… I-I uhm don’t think that’s a safe conversation topic…” There was a flicker of something I perceived as bitterness or even deep seated resentment, I chirped at the opossum and waddled over and nosed her chest. “Dumpster..” The opossum’s voice had taken on a strained quality, Pickle’s tail poofed up, the feline yowling at me “Bobble, you cannot tell me that you are associating with this… dumpster dweller!” He chirped, I nuzzled Bobble again then attacked Pickle, I clawed at him viciously. Pickle whined and yowled. This bug-eyed cat was rather cowardly if I do say so myself, orange fur flew around us as I continued my merciless attack. Bobble scampered over and bit my tail, dragging me off the melodramatic animal.

“Dumpster! This is not how we solve conflict!” Bobble chastised me, I hissed at her and glared at the feline who was now nursing his bald spots and licking his paw. Clearly exaggerating his injuries. “No fair, you didn’t even give me a fair shot.” Could cats pout? If so I believe this creature was pouting at me for beating his disproportioned face in. I looked at Bobble and swished my tail, kicking up the finer grained sand and muck in the creek bank into the misty morning air that had since settled over the lush grass and trees of the woods. “Bobble, make him apologize!” Pickle cried, I hissed at him, baring my teeth. Bobble put her face back in her forepaws with a whine of her own. “He can’t even understand you, Pickle just shut your gob.” the opossum chirped, Pickle continued to preen himself, licking between his hind legs without much care. Bobble scurried over and smacked the feline over the head. “Common decency! Pickle we are in public!” Bobble cried in outrage. I huffed, waddling off further into the woods ignoring the pair needing to find food before I went to bed.

(Pickle is an actual cat in reality and he's the orange cat in the photo, he's not very popular in the house and I think I was angry at Cameron or at least annoyed with her cause he's her cat so I thought fictional revenge was better than physical revenge 🥴 and the black and white cat is Haku, he's mine)

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