Rarity has many things that need to be finished. But instead, she feels like taking a nap... or a shower... or maybe a little of both. It's a simple life, after all.
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shortskirtsandexplosions
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That's a lot of moths in the cover art
I'm going to be honest: I'm not quite sure what's going on here. But this story is the right kind and amount of unnerving, and the imagery you're using is weird and evocative of... something. Time to curl up and think about my own papier-mâché existence withering away.
This was like some kind of awful dream.
Welp, I'm more confused now than I was when I started. Success I guess?
OK, Skirts, in the last 24 hours you have made three blog posts and posted three Dashie chapters, you really need to step away from the coffee.
Well, this is as good of a sign as any that it is time for me to put down the fanfiction and go to bed.
So I'm going to do that now!
Good night everyone!
God, I'm getting major flashbacks to your older stuff, stories like Tinnitus and Bon^6. Whether this is a good thing or not, I can't tell you, but I thought that this story in particular was... metaphorical for something.
... I... huh?
I'm confused as to what I just read. It came across as an overly artsy piece without actually saying anything. Horrifying visuals don't mean anything if we don't have something to connect them to. Everypony in Ponyville appears to be dead, or something. Why should we feel anything about that? Rarity doesn't. It left a story with no impact.
If this is just a sort of fluff piece to get the writing gears going, I can appreciate that. I've done it several times. It doesn't feel like that, though. So I'm not sure what the story was, really.
I... dude, maybe you should rest or something. I'm confused, and worried about you.
I 'm with everypony here.
No clue what is it that I just read, but it was depressing as heck
o...kay... that was not what I expected when I saw the random tag
not bad though
Soooo... everypony is basically a wire and paper mache float piloted by bugs?
6826017 Skirts seems to use the Random tag in a bit of a different way than most people seem to use it. Personally, I like it.
Reads like a bad dream.
This seems like a horror story. Could be metaphorical. I would like to see more.
i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/770/871/1a9.gif
I... I don't even... What??
I want to assume this is a metaphor for depression or something....
God Skirts, what the fuck is this? Apart from being really unsettling
I can't help but feel this is metaphor about procrastination, depression, some form of existentialism and existential angst.
— Moths = Existential angst
— Hem, sewing = Thing you want to do
— Smelling herself = Realization/begin thinking about it (angst seeping through)
— Shower = Remove the feeling/take your mind off it
Doing so creates wet towels. In the long run, wet towels fosters an environment ripe for moths. a.k.a think of time wasted not doing the thing you wanted to do, but can be seen as essential. It builds up, and will hit you harder as time goes on.
— Ice cream = Procrastination, choose not to do the 'thing' when you could in the pursuit of something else; feeds moths, makes more; feels bad man.
— Silkworm = The beginning of a moth. They were in her bed, too. Wasted time/potential to turn into angst.
— Ending = Release
I do like how the dresses, in the end, could theoretically feed the moths too—pointlessness and what have you. The dresses aren't ripe with them because it's what you wanted to do. But they could, should your perspective on things change.
There's a lot I can't make sense for, and it's as far as I got on trying to interpret the story in a metaphorical way. Whether this was supposed to mean anything at all, if I'm anywhere close or faraway off, who knows. The story definitely put a few unnerving images in my head!
...
Are you okay, Skirts?
Despair written in such wonderful language
I think the story might be missing a few tags. Other than that it was a story that conveyed bleakness very well.
.........
.........
Brava with the disturbing imagery here, dear. Makes me think of Hellish nightmares akin to a Silent Hill atmosphere.
I do believe, however, you simply must....take a breather. Away from the desktop/laptop. Perhaps you're vitamin D deficient? Too much caffeine? Or in a dark place yourself? Give yourself that physical/metaphorical breath, dear, lest you make poor Applejack AND Chun-Li sad. Not very gentlemanly of you, dear~
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
weknowmemes.com/generator/uploads/generated/g1337227902313765842.jpg
?
...Well at least now the cover art makes sense. At least something does.
I could try to be deep and metaphorical, but I feel tired. Something about how we're all just frames with a paper-thick skin we wear as a facade.
...
...
...
...
This brings to my attention that I've also been seeing a lot more moths lately.
...
I think it's time for bed. It's almost 3 in the morning here.
....
Skirts is exploding.
....
*proceeds to start calling physiatrists*
I feel like I need a shower now.
And Rarity vowed never to take PCP again. The end.
What the actual hell even goes on inside your head, skirts?
Well. I can't say this is atypical for a Skirts story, actually.
Friendship is Magic, as produced by Gainax Studio and David Lynch.
If you haven't played Fallen London, Skirtsy old chap, you might really enjoy it.
Moths hatching inside things is one of the very, very many horrific details you can find out if you delve deep enough into the game...
I reviewed this story!
My review can be found here.
Rarity eats a moth
Dammit, I was looking for a "happy, distracting, random fic" not a depressing metaphor for life.
Okay, well then. I guess...
Uh, I'll just...
Reassess my life.
Well, that sounds like me sometimes. Except the ending. That sounds more like she had parasites.
You suck at tagging. Where is the dark tag?
One time, I ran out of room in my dorm's mini-fridge.
I'd bought a huge pack of Dr Pepper, and my roommate had already used most of the room for Dew. So I, not knowing that the little metal compartment at the top was the "freezer," stuck the Dr Pepper in there.
Came back from class, and of course they had all burst. And puddled on the floor, where the warm exhaust air had dried it to a sticky, putrid pool of what looked like blood.
That's what this story smells like.
.... I was eating.... I did not need this...
I think I lost some brain cells trying to understand this.
what the fuuuuuuuu
Relatable Moth-Rarity is dark and depressing. Ya know, I was stressed before I read this. Maybe I should take a break from you, Skirts. Maybe I'll just wait to read anymore fanfic until Ofolrodi updates...