Entry #10 - identity

2/2/2026

Who are you, Hexaaelia Skye?

For someone and something that presents itself as so put together. It might surprise you that I find myself asking this question of myself a lot. Who are you? What is your purpose? Are you put here for some reason? Are you put here just to watch it all unfold?

I am a dragon. A manadragon specifically. I embody the grace of mana, of nature and of the world. At least that's what my species is supposed to be. Can I find purpose in the role my species lays out for me?

I am a human, at least, it is what the majority sees. What does this mean about me. I am but flesh and bone, distinctly primate in style. This half-truth stirs me inside. Is this all I am, all I could be? All I could ever hope to attain, just another human, just another predatory presence in a place I care so much for? Boiled down to my skin. A sort of beffitting thought, considering all that has befallen as of late.

But there simply, factually, must be more to this than what I'm supposed to be. To be a manadragon is fulfilling, of course. It is part of what I am, who I am. But it is not all of who I am. So then what?

Am I one of technology? Handler of computers and tinker of electronics? Is this my lot, constantly frustrated at Linux for a subsystem not running and at humans for their disrespect of the harnessed force of mana they have surrounded themselves with?

Am I one of fantasy? Constantly creating scenarios and images in my own mind that I know will likely never come to pass. Treating them as if they are as weighty as everything without. I enjoy sharing these moments, as embarassing as they might be for an outside observer. Are these myself? A thousand stories and a vague circly form?

Am I one of draconicity? The symbols and the existences which define myself and my kin? To surround oneself in idols of their own image, to remind myself that this is me. Is this what I am?

Am I one of averice? Constantly wishing that there was more, that I had more, that the others around me had more? Am I simply defined on my wants, no matter how insignifigant and small?

Am I one of Upheval? Constantly filling the role as the one to be fucked over, the next one in line to fall, and doing it again, and again, and again? How many times can one be thrown under the bus until there is no you to be thrown under?

Am I one of pain? Already intended to hurt, to pull the hurt from others and cast it upon herself? Am I one of unfortune? A bad luck charm, or rather a good luck charm, in that I perhaps stave off bad luck from the others I am around? Am I one of fury? The unbridled forces of all that do not have any to speak? Perhaps my adoption of manabeast is more true than I would think?

I think it is possible to be equal parts all of these. It is absurd to me that I have to be, and that I have to continue to be martyred again and again. But things will continue, and things will improve, and things will continue to be terrible, and wonderful, and everywhere in-between. I have solaces. I have the knowledge that a distinct few could never put me out, that there is a pack behind me, though scattered. It is why I am not atomized as I write this. And I will ask the question forevermore, for them. So that we may understand.

Who are you, Hexaaelia Skye?

Entry #9 - cloudwatching

8/30/25

I wonder what the ratio is, between the happy moments and the sad ones.

If I could lay out every moment start to finish, how would the positive be compared against the negative? Would I be mostly defined by those moments of joy? Or would the sorrow be the majority? What would it say about me? Would it say anything about me, or is it just data without purpose?

Much has happened in a short time. I have found unabashed joy and indescribable sorrow in extreme proximity. Anxiety, Adoration, desperation and depression. Security and serendipity. The whiplash hurts. But still regardless I think of the positives and smile. A paw in mine. Cool air in my lungs, enough for just a breath.

As I write, the clouds swirl overhead. I watch them with a sort of admiration. A goal never to be reached. It's a sorrowful sensation, to know there's no reaching it. It does, however, always fill my with a peaceful sort of joy. So many happy memories are the small moments I watched the clouds shift between the pain.

Is it true that one defines another? That without pain there would be no solace, and no solace without pain? I am unsure of this. That's a deeply terrifying thought, if you break it down to its core pieces. But it is a useful piece of pragmatism. This too, will pass. The moments you share with those you love, the tears you shed fearing for the little you have left. Soon it will blow away. The memories gone, atomized. The pain a mere scar on the psyche.

It will never stop. But, please. For just a few fleeting moments, just let me have my joy, watching the clouds go by.

Entry #8 - Spiritualism

7/21/25

If you told me, 6 months, a year ago, that I now would be a deeply spiritual creature, I would not believe you.

I have historically hated spiritualism. I still kind of do, the organized stuff, anyway. At best I tolerated it. At worst I had outright scorn for that which decided so many of the nonsensical written rules of our world. If you told me then, that I would believe outside of the this. That I would believe in magic. I would be unsettled.

But now, much is different. I am aware I am a dragon. I am aware of the existence of magic, for it must exist in order for me to. I am deeply spiritual. Asking the questions of the soul rather than the mind. Hell, believing in the soul is new for me. I did not think it truly existed. Now, I must. For it does. Of course it does.

Therianthropy is incredibly interesting. It can be many things to the creatures for whom it describes. For me, it is decidedly a belief system. Tools to understand myself and others. To connect with myself and others. To reach paws out in the dark and feel. To understand all that which must be true in order for all of us to be.

This is the unique thing, I think, about this. It is founded on love, rather than fear. Of course, much organized religion positions itself as foundationally about love. If this were true, why would the stick be there along with the carrot? Love is not about punishment. Love is acceptance. Therianthropic spiritualism is unique for those who believe it. None of us share exactly the same beliefs. But we accept this. We accept each other's. There is room for much belief. Even seemingly conflicting belief. Everything is strange, we are strange. Who's to say it is not everything at once?

I have spent time, and learned of times that those I cared about were touched deeply. Quiet moments. Strange objects of power unseen. Items blessed by Luna. I have yet to see, have yet to feel, except in these quiet moments to myself. I will, however. I do. My wings. My tail. My ears. They are there. I feel them. It is deeply spiritual.

Of course, of course.

Of course it was love that won me over, finally.

Of course.

Entry #7 - Anew

7/19/25

As I write this, I'm staring out the window of a vehicle driven by my best friend, with some of my closest friends in the other seats. We're coming home from a convention, Eufuria in specific. Three of what will likely end up being the best days of my life, underscored by folks I adore and highlighted by a community I suddenly feel a part of. The girl in front of me is singing. It is wonderful.

I've always struggled with community. I'm really bad at understanding it. I worry about being told that I am "doing it wrong". Probably from all the "you're doing it wrong!" in the younger queer and furry communities. I've also had issue with group size. Big groups give me anxiety, many folks at a time, hard to deem when you know someone.

As a result, historically, I have found myself often leaving myself out of larger spaces. Preferring the company of a few, of whom I would often be anxious about expressing myself to. This sucks hard.

Now, I find myself on a precipise. The experiences I've had have left one fundamental afterimage in my mind. That is that this is my place. That I can be this, and I can do this. Much has shifted inside me, reorienting things around new core pieces of myself. That being, my identity as a furry.

It is strange to say that "I did not get it", as someone who has been participating in furry circles for as long as I have. However, I indeed did not get it. As previously stated, it was a tool for expression in small group. This is fine! This of course is fine. Now, I understand it is more. Lots of folks who are at least in some shades, just like me. Enjoying the same things I do, excited about the same things I am. It is a tool to connect. Something that my autistic ass could absolutely use.

This is wonderful. This is a revelation. I feel like I am home. Hello everyone. I'm Hexaaelia, and I'm here to stay.

Entry #6 - Change

5/25/25-6/21/25

I've never been good at change.

In all likelihood stemmed from a combination autism, self-doubt and history. Change tends to place me in a worse position than before. Losing things, friends, pieces of myself, whole selves. Often when change is for the better, it is still accompanied by tremendous pain. Having the wonderful friends I have now is a fantastic change, and losing the things previously holding me back was a victory, but it came alongside months of injury and soul-sucking madness as I retread those first few steps of relationships. I hate retracing my steps, socially. Ironic, considering I love Metroidvanias. Being placed right back into that awful part of meeting folks where they do not truly know you, and each individual thing you might say could be taken entirely differently than you intended. I digress.

However, life is not defined by its aversion to change. Both the lives we lead as creatures, and life itself, are constantly in flux. We are defined in opposition, and association to entropy. Yet much like a mortal enemy in a noble hero, we reflect it in our very existence. Change is entropic. It is also deeply nonentropic.

As I write this, I stand on the foothills of a very large change for myself. A relaunch of who I am, a redefinition of the symbols I fly, an audit of everything that defines me down to the species I am. It's hard not to feel fear as I look at where I wish to be. But fighting this is impossible, you must move with the times or the times will move you. Instead I must embrace it, enjoy the journey to the summit, and remember those who perished on the climb.

I wrote in my previous blog post more than six months ago about how it might be my last. I am lucky much has changed in the meantime. I am lucky things will continue to change, so that I will always have something to write about.

Welcome to the new site. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it.

- Hex

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