Sometimes, despite doing all I can, the result is the same. Sometimes, despite all the resistance I put up, the opposition makes it through. In those times, my thoughts stray towards capitulation. There is little you can do to resist the forces out of my control.
Or, is there?
Thinking there is nothing one can do, breeds an ill behavior within me. And I think back to what I heard long ago: The bravest are those who know the odds are impossible, and still try.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Years become like days, as we traverse our paths. For each steps allows us to experience, and reflect upon all previous. Our journey becomes longer, and with it, our experience of it shrinks. An hour was a day, but now it is but a minute, a gradual change constant through our existence.
This awareness begets wisdom, a spark we cherish, and pass on for the future travelers.

Happy Filthy Friday, enjoy a scillitant weekend~.

When answering a question, take heed to consider if the answer you are providing is merely a recital, a regurgitation of what you have heard previously, what you have been told previously. And what importance does it serve? What can your personally add to it?
Or, what are you already adding, superfluously...

Happy Filthy Friday the 13th~.

Memory of pain differs so from the pain in the moment, a memory can amplify the hurt, can make it more meaningful in the living now. But, as memory fade, so eventually does the pain. We can tell ourselves it still hurts, though at some point, we just have ourselves, telling us we remember it. Those who can get through their pain, that is.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today we have a new story coming up, how will Twilight react when all her friends have shrunken

Vision blotted by tears, the window to the soul grows dim. It shields the self in a bubble, reflecting ever inwards to offer a moment of respite. Perhaps it shuts out the world for a moment, to pretend nothing else exists. But, it is in the world that the self is made. However painful it becomes, eventually we blink.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Off in the distance,
The whistle of a kettle,
Receding further...

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Wish you well, Pikamee.

Today we continue the Throne Chronicles. With so many seats met before, how will this one hold for the changeling ambassador? Will they rise above, or be flushed down the drain.
Check out the story below.

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“What if,” Spike said, “Ginger Gypsy hadn’t been afraid to confess her love? Would you still hate her so much?”

I frowned. “Hate is a strong word. I never said I hated her.”

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Where do I go when my path weighs even across both sides? I always think I can observe it closer, deeper and deeper, on the scale of worth and value, there should be a dent that puts one side over the edge. And if not, I scrutinize closer. And if it is still even, I go deeper. The more I observe, the more my surroundings alter and adapt to the lens of my vision.
however, if the scale remains even through the most minute of observations, then I will tip it myself.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

During the brief time that I've been back, there's a lot of things that I've seen that are extremely problematic: child porn (also known as "foalcon"), incest, and even rape... effin' rape!

I didn't want to believe this due to the nature of the material itself...

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Can we see our footprints when they are swallowed by our shadows? Does it matter, when the road ahead lay clad in mystery? To stop is to sink, contemplate not the step you are on, but the one you will take. Darkness or light, all pass. They affect our stride, as much as our last step did.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

What is the road? We tread upon it during our journey - the quest of walking, waking, understanding - yet the road itself does not exist, merely a concept brought about underneath us through a collective will to have it there. We see because others see it. Because we need to walk? We need a destination. We have to put one foot after the other. How deep does it go? Will someone who does not believe in the wall have it cease existing for them, or does it run deeper? Is there a collective

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It is a curse to live during interesting times, despite the ravenous hunger one has for stories.
Interesting times, make for wondrous stories, though a miserable experience. As always, any good story requires conflict.

Happy Filthy Friday~. And Happy Twin Month~.

Slowly does one sink into tar,
it feels like standing still, least not going far.
It feels fine, not a change in their smirk,
Slowly they find themselves, waist deep in murk.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Thoughts of snow. Of the pleasant chill that invades your veins, chains your nerves to the whims of winter and sends your spine rattling. It rouses a heat. The throes of your body engaged to keep you warm, to keep living. A visceral experience of your essence clinging to life... made tactile. You cannot just feel it, you are beset to feel it...
Few, though, desire to dance with their own mortality.
They are a rough partner.
Present, or not.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

This week we have a new story to share, one involving The Orchard, a pleasant bar where like minded pony folk can relax and indulge in some depravity. And sometimes, a mutt or two.

Struggles harden the mind, through the weight of hardship the body molds.
Stress toughens the body, through the pressure of failure the mind buffs.
Both follow a pattern, weaving through one another, to craft the felt of consciousness.

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We trap ourselves in a cycle, it goes commitment, that reaches deep into the night, and to then rest the brief amount of time I have, to wake up and realise there is more commitment. At which point, instinct delays it, and becomes pushed forward, down the day, into the afternoon. And then work begins again....

Happy Filthy Friday~.

The roly-poly has a lot figured out. This Graymaiden stays protected, living in the places other do not look for in places shielded from sight. Whole societies spring up under rocks and moss. Even when they are found, their last defense is rolling together, curling up into a ball of security, a personal safe haven at the cost of being cut off from the rest of the world. Their whole life follows that plan, and they have survived this long.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Fine print, is a skill check. But what skill does it fall under?
Perception is possible, particularly when perusing parchment.
Knowledge is a candidate, considering ones curiosity.
Falsehood is factual, fortune favours fakers.

But in the end, it does not matter which way it is failed, only that it happens.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Greetings again, readers! I decided to make a blog post elaborating on some of my future plans for My Little Pony storytelling, some current activity and a few thoughts I've developed in long time I've spent making The End of an Era. I hope I don't keep you here for too much time.

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