We also have a new story going up today, where Pinkie Pie herself appears to rescue a dear friend from the clutches of dreadful bureaucracy. Quite a filthy one this week, but lovely a goofy at the same time~.

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Restraint is a skill one learns. Restraint remains a constant through a life, a hidden variable to all. When young, exploring what is hidden brings the greatest adventures. Thus, we push our capabilities, until we reach the limits and find the restraints. However, then we might just try again. A new angle, another method, testing the limits and surpassing them. With age comes wisdom, and one can distinguish ones restraints. Thus, we do not test them, we merely accept them. Despite their nature

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What trouble us can easily stack up, and when you have your gaze aimed forwards, you miss the luggage which weigh you down. However, many of us know it is there, we simply tell ourselves that we can handle it.
For some weights this is true, but if we use the excuse enough, soon we pick up and carry everything, unable to leave any worries behind us.
Acknowledge your weights, and they can be lifted.

Wish you all a Fun Filthy Friday~.

There is a pleasure to action, a thrill and eager to achieve, doubt and uncertainty in the moment, followed by a grand elation upon its success.
Yet, I find myself treasuring, inaction. There is a luxury to allow yourself respite. Perhaps savouring an anticipation, for something waiting ahead. In those moments, where I have done nothing, and not required to do anything, have I been happy?
Or, do I cherish nothing, all the more, when there is something else, that should be done?

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What if I existed in place of one of my fore mothers? How would the sensations I feel today, translate to that of a creature in the dawn of life? Minds, senses, and out interpretation of ourselves in the whole of the world has changed dramatically again and again. What of me, as I am now, would exist back then? Perhaps, only the basics. Perhaps, some aspects only coincide tangentially to what I might have experienced. Perhaps, nothing.

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There are few's judgement which affects me more than my own. In the moment, that feels odd to claim. To some extent, the judgement imposed on me from others shapes the person that I am, to whatever extent I deem to listen to it. Though, that is just it, isn't it? In the end I am arbiter of my own judgement, of what I take to heart. What sticks. In addition, it is responsible for how I weigh my own shortcomings, and how long they remain, and remind. I have the greatest effect on myself, for in

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Tens of times have we met on the road,
each time we averted our gaze,
who has eyes for those going backwards?

Wish you a Happy Filthy Friday.

Some words hold power in the same way the unknown does. I can take comfort in words, every day I see them, they imprint a calm in the knowledge I am aware what each one means. That is, until posed against certain, particular compositions of letters.

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Once when I was younger, I looked upon the cities and streets. Eyes growing wide as I turned to my guardian: "But, to think of all this street, that takes so long to build."
"Yes." They responded.
"And look at all these buildings. It takes so much work, from so many people, just to raise a single building, and we have so many of them."
"Yes." They responded.
"Is it not... bewildering, to imagine how much work this all must have taken?"
"Yes." They responded.

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I would like to be a worm. A carefree existence, where I eat as much dirt as my stomach can hold, and unload it all the same.
Where I remain hidden from view under a cool, safe rock.
Where if I were split in twain, I would have a new friend to nurture together.

The more I think of it, the more my life resembles that of a worm already.
We even bleed the same.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Life does not have to be all misfortune, but you aren't getting it without effort. Be it as little as the strength to open your eyes. In seeing both fortune and less, contrast is built. Through contrast we can view the world in new ways, and work to change it for the better. Though, sometimes it is not your own eyes which you have to see through.

Happy Friday the 13th~.

Thus the time of change comes, the world alters around us. Each step, each decision, we mould it. And it turn, it moulds our vessel. But, that is only what the world interacts with, our masks. There is something deeper, the roots that fuel the high crowns of verdant splendor, something our decisions merely scratch the surface to.
Yet, in time, even that can wear.

Happy Filthy Friday the 13th~.

There is this phenomenon, where what an artist puts the least amount of time and effort in, compared to the rest of their works, will be what gathered the most attention. If it received 20% of the work, it receives 80% of the attention. Some say it is close enough to be likened to mere confirmation bias, you see the times an artist has a catalogue of work they are proud with - less so the further back you go - but what got them where they are is in comparison, small, inconsistent, reductive...

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It is a funny thing, because I haven't thought about it much. That thing which many crave, to which so much prose is drafted, to which so many tunes are sung. Perhaps it has been easier to not think about it. Perhaps it is something I desire, despite the fact I have not sought it. There is a nagging sensation in my mind, asking me if I can truly be satisfied without it. The answer has always been foregone for me. But, perhaps it is just foreign to me. Unlike so many others, who claim: we're no

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Honestly, I'm not at all surprised. Their films aren't even good in the first place. Nobody asked for unnecessary Ice Age and Rio sequels.

Majority of the films verge on funny and ridiculous which I'm really not a fan of. Them playing it safe by adhering to the "animation is for kids" ideology garnered their cash cow films with mixed/average critical reception.

That's what happens when money-driven corporations like them don't innovate. Goodbye and good riddance, I guess.

Recurring Symmetry is a lot of firsts. It's my first one-shot over five thousand words, first G5 fic, and first fic where I've engaged with the wider Fimfiction community. It has also spurred me to try and clean up my grammar, a difficult notion I won't lie. I can't say it's perfect, but I'm trying (with help) and anything noticed would be of great aid.

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How much excitement is your time worth? If an experience brought you less excitement than it has done in the past, is it worth less to you? What if you did it with someone else? How much is their excitement, worth in terms of your time? Had you spent your resources elsewhere, and gained further satisfaction and excitement alone, was your time better spent? Each other person, surely does the same, so should each care only for their own investments?

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Long nights and cool stars, the sounds of road frogs croaking, time passes us by and through it we venture. Some steps you have cherish, the ones you enjoyed the most, for their mark on you is fleeting, and on the road even more so.
It is the memory that entertains the goodwill of those steps, even if by time the memories erode and reshape. It does not matter if the step you remember were in reality as great as you conceived, all that matters is what it means to you.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

This week, we continue with the chronicles of the unfortunate Changeling, though this time, they are going on new ventures. Another chapter opens, and we will see what fate he shall be lead to.

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Perhaps what awaits us is pleasant? A notion often dismissed by those who have thought deep on the topic. It grows all the more pleasant, the less we know about it. Often, we can see things up, but we only notice the bottom, when it is clearly labeled. How much do we have provide?

Happy Filthy Friday of Matte Month~.