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.

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~.

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~.

Elloo, I decided to share some old homework from College class, in this case from one of them, its an Graphic Novels analyze class, where we watch a movie and then not only analyze it, tho also putting our thoughts as well.

In this case, plus seeing a bit of an argument about Joker in another form, here's my notes on the Batman 1989 film:

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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~.

Life lessons learned this week:

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I move too slow for time. It will not listen, it will not yield
My feet drag behind me in the cleft of weaving moments. Time can not listen, Time cannot yield.
I shout my frustration, condemning each future or past moment with one of my present.
Time has no ears. Time has no blame.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

It’s been a strange last couple of weeks. You may have noticed that there wasn’t a Being a Better Writer post on Monday, which was consequence of two things. First, that it was a holiday (President’s Day) and I seized on that with no small amount of fervor, but second, that I’d had LTUE the week before.

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Poison and medicine overlap. A poison, in a small dose, functions as a medicine. Whilst a medicine, in a large dose, functions as a poison. Do you see it? In a sense, a factor of whether a substance qualifies as poison or medicine, lies in its amount. It is said not to take too much of a good thing, in the same vein, a small amount of poison, need not necessarily cause harm.

Happy Twin Month, and happy Filthy Friday~.

I rest in the shadow of a young, sprig tree. Its branches reach just past the tip of my boot. The air here is crisp, freshly brewed and vented, by the same aamaritan providing cloak from the sun. Yet all around it stand grander trees, with grander branches, soaking up sun, sighing cool air. My tree is dwarfed, in the company of the ageless, those who savour the same world, drink the same atmosphere, and yet are a distance away, greater than any journey. I may never know the experiences of a

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Hello everyone and I was wanting to know your thoughts on a little story starting that i put together in about 45 minuets to an hour in total. ok? here it is then.

Small gore warning incoming not a lot but just a bit. Enjoy!

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So, in light of the latest episode, The Mean Six, a couple things come to mind.

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I don't really think it's much of a spoiler, but I'll put it under a break in case for those who haven't seen the movie yet.

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Remember how I said changes would go live with the next chapter? Yeah, me too. I did the minor things today, so all the chapters before “This Is Fine” are done and live. I’ll do the remaining chapters tomorrow, updating them as I go. I realized there’s no point in holding them until the next chapter comes out.

There’s also no real point to this post since the changes were so minor, but fuck you.

So, I've noticed a lot, and I mean, a lot of conjecture surrounding the fixation on the Anon-A-Miss story. This lead me to thinking on it, and I realized I had a somewhat novel observation on the mess that I could share. I also figured it would just got lost if I dropped it as a comment, so, here we are.

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Promised another check-in, so here's a check-in! This week, my fanfic writing goes on the backburner again and I explain why, and talk about Ghost of a Rose, one of the best fanfics of all time. Check below the ponk for more!

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