I wrote a new story.

It isn't much, and it's more just an expansion of a What If chapter that I've added some more lore and detail to.

But it's at least a semblance of what I had planned for Christmas.

As always, thank you for reading.

Hey folks! MagicalPony2099 here!

This is a continuation of this blog back on December 3, 2023.

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Ooo, I want to brew the stock of life, a bullion so fair,
for despite being full of strife, inside the bones of mares
you find marrow, and juices, and tasty treats galore,
if you let it simmer these fuses, have your patrons knocked to the floor~.
Ooo, I want to brew the stock of life, this task's myself I have wrought,
for even a single speck of trite... would spoil the whole broth.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Passion demands sacrifice. Sacrifice which makes itself known in time, investments, or devotion. They are core to passion, for passion is not static, passion exists in the moment it is paid tribute to.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

“Alright, everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine. We totally didn’t get swallowed up by some all-consuming bubble just now! Nothing terrible or crazy has happened, and everything is just. Fine. Just…”

Lisa’s quiet muttering jolted Zoey from her daze. She blinked, looking down at her hands.

No blood.

That was the weirdest daydream ever. Like, ever ever.

“Lisa?” Zoey hopped off her stool, kneeling down beside her babysitter. “Is something wrong?”

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The 11th Anniversary is here for "Elements Change the Dark Hearts"! It's time for the real adventure to begin, where the purpose of the Dark Hearts will finally be fully realized. It's time for...

Thoughts malign affect those close,
expression wry and worries rose.
Infectious is the thought of ill,
inviting by mystery and promise of thrill.
Soon one thought has turned for the worst,
and the subject in question, afflicted and cursed.

Wishing you all a Happy Filthy Friday~.

I don't like measuring my progress in years, because it starts to feel too short, a year is such a large span of time, we have a double digit of them in a life, and to think I spent so much of that without a clear purpose, is scary. Thankfully, it is easier to forget than to think.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Will a scrape heal has it still a scab? Certainly so. The scab can shield the wounded area as it mends. And yet, scabs have a ceratin odd air to them, and many rather have it removed. Without the scab, a scrape still heals. At times exposure to the outside elements is what mends, in others the clear seclusion protects. It depends how deep the issues go.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There was a little circuit man,
Welded from the scraps of cards.
They built up themselves as a handy man,
Improving to escape the junkyard.

But all time spent upgrading,
oblivious to his trading,
the times which he could cherish,
for the date to which he'd perish.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Where does everything go when there is too much of it?
Some articles of life appears easier to ignore the larger of a quantity there is. Perhaps it relates to the forest, stocked with trees and yet we rarely pay attention to particular trunks. Would then the best way to ignore something, to expose yourself to it, until it was no longer part of your conscious intake?
Perhaps that is a way addiction starts.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Keep on the lookout for a new artpack.

Pony month was casual fun. There will still be pony content, especially when it is commissioned.
I have gone back to look through several stories, and each time I see someone sharing their joy about my stories, I feel that much happier to continue writing.

~ ~ ~

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When do trees become a forest? Can we put it to a number? Perhaps it i when they stop being individuals and start to become a pattern. Patterns we intersexual, we interpret, we match and decipher, though we just as easily look past it. When the chaos grows too strong, we ignore it.
Until such a time, we find ourselves lost in a forest, unable to recall the trees we passed on the way in.

Happy clean Filthy Friday~.

Once I asked where the wind blow, where it carries its call and force through the lands and across the sea, where it leads the currents of air that brush through my hair. Though as I grew, I realized that there is nowhere the wind blows, but one continuous wind, there is no destination, there is just a pattern, a whole o be acknowledged.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Hey, I just published a new short story called “The Somber Heart” about Sombra when he’s “dead,” and he reflects on his past mistakes, regrets, and his love.

This is my attempt at an emotional, philosophical type story.

Check it out if you’re interested, and feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Hi everypony!

I wanted to write this since I was really proud.

I finally completed my first job as an editor for a story!!!🎂

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It arrived on my doorstep a few nights ago. I have yet to touch it, yet to acknowledge. It is easier for me to let it lie, let all take its course, to step around the threshold when I am needed outside. Or, to simply stay home, to stay away from the world it came from. Perhaps it is best to leave it be.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

To understand something, I tend to turn towards the moments that something breaks. Breaking points teach a lot: you get a grasp of its limits, and in turn what it can do; how each parts fit together, grasping what makes it click; and it is easier to peer past the exterior, in order to observe the machinations inside.

I have learned a lot about myself, this way.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Orientation remains dependent on the point of origin, where and what someone is alters its very nature. Angles are worthless without a center, without origin or poles, the cardinal directions mean nothing. Up, and down, are only as real as we make them. Though it is comforting to collect these terms, to find commonality in direction. It is comfortable, to have an origin.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Wayward soul who seeks solace, find your way to me, find your way through cold and sorrows, find your way to me. Find your way through dreadful waters, find your way to me.
Find the path that few have tread, find your way to me. Find your way through your own strength, find your way to me. Find companions to share the journey, find your way to me.
And if your weary bones should waiver, find your way to thé.

Happy Filthy Friday~.