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23w, 1dremoving stories41 comments · 760 views
First off this is NmNighteyes, not psp7master or Josh as many know him
the reason for many of his stories being unsubmitted is as follows:
There is a ban on gay propaganda among minors in Russia
Josh spends a large amount of his time and does most of his business there, thus he needs to abide by their laws. It's as simple as that.
Further more, Josh have asked me to express once more that he has left this site.
How or why people has his e-mail without him personally giving it to them is beyond me and bothering him there about this site is only making him less inclined to ever return and the chances of that were slim at best to begin with.
If you have any problems or concerns, you can contact me here on his account, this blog or on my other user, NmNighteyes
However please stop contacting Josh. There is a reason he asked me to take care of his account on this site, please respect it.
30w, 5dLeaving Fimfiction92 comments · 1,282 views
I'm pretty sure I'm done with this site and this community.
Now, the question you all have is, of course, 'What happens to the fics?' Fear not, for all the fics will remain here. I am giving this account to Nighteyes, a good and trusted friend of mine, so that he will keep it in top shape. So, rejoice, for you can still read the fics. Or, at least, what little I have managed to write of them.
The second question you may have is, of course, 'Who is to blame?' That's a good question, for all humans always try to find someone to blame. Well, you could blame me, for taking such a decision. You could blame people on this site, like Abronyfromitaly (hello there, I know you're stalking my every blog) and his equally pitiful, ignorant and offensive friend A-fox, for being the worst human beings I've had to encounter. (Now, I blocked you on gmail so please direct all of your hate to this page, guys.) You could blame your local governor for raising taxes. Or, alternatively, you could blame you cat for shitting on the carpet.
All of the aforementioned options are good, but I wouldn't advise you to blame anyone, despite the humankind's desire to blame someone. If anything, it would be wise and nice to see this as a matter of course. The community on this site, just like the site itself, is mostly outrageous. If it were not for my stories, I would have walked away long ago.
But not even my stories can keep me here. It's, frankly, a hole, in which I don't want to keep drowning. Just like you would replace an old outhouse in your countryhouse, I'm replacing this site with other people, who are kind, generous, and, while not without their flaws, very accepting.
Since we've touched upon the subject of virtues, you must think I consider myself a person of great virtue. Quite on the contrary. Let's try to remember the virtues that MLP, as a show, has shown us, shall we?
That's a virtue I do not possess, and have never possessed. I will lie to my loved ones to keep them safe. I will lie to gain profits. I will lie to get what I need. Without lying, my business is pretty much impossible.
I never laugh. I don't remember ever laughing out loud in my entire life. The most I would do is chuckle. Smile, most times. But I nevere laugh. I don't know why. There are simply not enough things in the world worth laughing about, I presume.
I am not generous. I am not generous with material things and I am not generous with forgiveness. I am, if anything, quite greedy. I will share everything I have with family and friends, but I will never share with strangers. Giving money to homeless people? Yes, well, I do that. Everybody does. But that's where I draw the line.
Wait a second, I am trying to levitate myself here. ... ... ... ... ...No, I don't think I'm magical.
I am most definitely not kind. I am kind only and only to those kind to me. I won't turn the other cheek. Not that kind of guy.
Now that's the only great pony virtue that I seem to possess. I'm always loyal to family and friends. Always following those close to me and always standing for them, whatever they may do.
Now that I've shattered your positive perception of me, or, alternatively, fuelled your negative perception of me, let's come down to the fics. I've been told that, to see the true nature of an object, you have to step back a little.
Step back a little.
Now look at my stories.
Surprisingly, you will see that you can't name a single story of mine worth publishing and giving to people to read so that they could learn something. My stories have morals. But they don't teach anything. Each has a deep subcontext. But, of course, no one ever asks about subcontext. People either write to shower me with praise or issue death threats.
Huh. People, I guess. People don't change.
Ну, что ж… Обыкновенные люди… В общем, напоминают прежних… Квартирный вопрос только испортил их
- Воланд, Мастер и Маргарита
Now, I have decided that this community is not for me. (For a few months, I've been preparing to leave, so, no, it's not a spur-of-the-moment or angry decision. No ragequitting on my watch.) Does that I mean I hate it? I can't say for sure. I wouldn't really use such a strong word here. I don't despise the people of this community. I don't blame them. I don't hate them. I just... pity them, in a way. And that's all. This is a dirty, rotten place, and I will be way better off without it.
And yet, I cannot fail to say thanks to this place for introducing me to some wonderful people.
Huge thanks to Nighty, who graciously accepted my plea and will be guarding this account with its stories after I'm gone. He's been with me, right by my side, helping me deal with both my stories and my mood here. Always bright. Always loyal. Always a friend.
Huge thanks to Kkat for her kind, soothing words. For her patience with me and my outburst. For her deep understanding of human nature. For helping me and reminding me there's still good in all of us. Even if it's deep inside.
Huge thanks to Toni for being a cheerful, innocent, happy girl that she is. For making me look forwards to the years when my own child will be a teenager. For laughing in my stead. For her kindness.
Huge thanks to Acreu the Ball for making wonderful art and equally wonderful stories. We had a nice time together, discussing ponies and dresses and whisky and pipes.
Huge thanks to Bandy for being a friend. That's all. But that's enough.
Huge thanks to Kare Valgon/swift-blaze for making beautiful, inspiring drawings. I can only hope to see more of these soon.
Huge thanks to Kody for editing my stories. For taking patience with my numerous mistakes.
Huge thanks to Jamlamin for teaching me how to write.
Huge thanks to Errant for reading my stories and making me fangasm. I still remember blushing from the praise you showered The Snow on Her Cheek with.
Huge thanks to Mariacheat for his insightful comments and positive attitude. Also for GTVS. Also for introducing me to GTO.
Huge thanks to IJAB for being the awesome, chill, supportive guy he is.
I would thank many other people, but I'm limiting myself to this site and the people who have truly left a mark on me, and in a pleasant way. Thanks for helping me get through this thing, whatever it is. Thanks for letting me do it the way I wanted. My own way.
And yet, I am pretty content with what I have achieved. If I have managed to open up your eyes to different cultures, and different views, and different stories, and different music - then I think I have achieved what I have want. At least, I hope, it is so with music. I always keep in mind Vic, who is a metalhead but who was yet introduced to jazz, the sacred music of life and tranquillity.
If I have opened up your mind to something, my job here is done.
It's done here anyway, even though it is with a heavy heart that I'm leaving the site. I won't miss the people because the people I've mentioned, all the friends of mine, have other means of communicating with me. I really hope we'll be able to keep in touch. Nighty will send me the most important messages by e-mail, too. The people I don't like I won't miss. The people who are just my readers: to you, I say sorry.
I love writing. I take joy in it, immense, incredible joy. I am enraptured by putting words to life. It's an art that has always fascinated. It's an art that I long to perfect. And yet, this site has been chaining me. I don't like chains, no matter how comfortable they might be.
Granted, we are all chained. But here's the thing. I am on a very select number of sites on the Internet. I do not have social networks. I don't use Skype. I don't tweet. I don't do whatever you modern people do on the Internet. It's supposed to be my happy me-time. I have had just enough adversity in real life. I have to deal with many issues in real life. I don't want to deal with upsetting or otherwise disappointing issues on the Internet too.
So, that being said, it was rather fun. I look back at the times we've had together and I think that, yes, maybe it was worth it. But it is not worth it any more. I've had a very long, nice year on this site, but winter's coming, and I want to spend it by the fireplace.
I am sure that Nighty will take good care of my account - including the thousands of words of non-published stories that I still have. I'm sorry that these are left unpublished. I'm sorry that these are left unfinished.
Thus, I am offering you something better than my stories: after you've done listening to Franky, listen to these jazz songs I am embedding. They have always helped me deal with life, this thing, whatever it is.
^The title song of The Sweetest Music
^The original version
^Tranquillity at its finest
^Two of the best jazz musicians of all time play a standard together, chaging it into something out of this world
^Cheer, joy, and summer serenity
^Title song of In a Cello Mood
^The best version
^My title song
^The song to play at sunset
^Some Russian swing
^Some more Russian swing, as featured in The Sweetest Music
^Very good classic-like jazz
^Very good jazz guitar
^Can't forget rock'n'roll
And now that you have a lot of wonderful music to listen to, let me give you some reading advice, given as I am not providing my own stories. Here is the list of books you absolutely ought to read in case you liked my stories, for these are the books I've drawn most inspiration from or just enjoyed immensely:
Kkat - Fallout: Equestria
Kurt Vonnegut - Mother Night
Kurt Vonnegut - Cat's Cradle
Kurt Vonnegut - Slaughterhouse Five
Kurt Vonnegut - Breakfast of Champions
Kurt Vonnegut - Deadeye Dick
Kurt Vonnegut - Jailbird
Kurt Vonnegut - God Bless You Mr Rosewater
Kurt Vonnegut - Hocus Pocus
Kurt Vonnegut - A Man Without a Country
James Joyce - Ulysses
Salman Rushdie - the Satanic Verses
Salman Rushdie - Fury
Salman Rushdie - the Ground Beneath Her Feet
Salman Rusdhie - Shalimar the Clown
Salman Rushdie - Step Across the Line
Фёдор Достоевский - Преступление и Наказание
Фёдор Достоевский - Бесы
Фёдор Достоевский - Идиот
Фёдор Достоевский - Униженные и Оскорблённые
Александр Грибоедов - Горе от Ума
Михаил Шолохов - Тихий Дон
Михаил Булгаков - Мастер и Маргарита
So... yeah. This seems to be it. Again, it is hard for me to leave but I hope Nighty will manage. I'm posting this blog and sending him the password for my account. He will change it so that I won't be able to access the site to make this all fair and square.
And I thank you for your attention, and I'm outta here.
31w, 16hI just looove Sir Michael Pitt12 comments · 159 views
31w, 1dI was planning to write today.13 comments · 221 views
But then this happened (names changed):
<The King of Poles> psp7master, you want pics of dicks, give one XD
psp7master agrees with the popular opinion, even though he has never seen The Lamp Lady's legs
<psp7master> @The King of Poles: I think my wife would greatly disapprove
<psp7master> That's family heritage! xD
<The King of Poles> ...family jewels
<Swinging in the Moon> it is clan property
<psp7master> Damn you guys. -_-
Thank you, Fo:E chat, for helping me not write my fics. <3
9 comments · 293 views
It all began with this:
I was walking down the street late in the evening, and it was a very warm September. I thought about snow, and, when I came home, I saw this song. I listened to it, and it reminded me a lot of my own past, of my own love story, and of my own problems. Not falling into the trap of writing an autobiography, I created a world of oppression and darkness and made my protagonists stumble through it towards a brighter future. And yet, there was a moral: nothing is impossible. Love conquers all. I could have written six words instead of sixty thousand, but the issue still stood.
But this was not enough. What exactly should love conquer. And should you seek something besides it? By seeking something global, something great, something that is not connected to your love in the slightest, don't you, thus, weaken your feeling by turning away from it? I believe that it is so, and thus I wrote The Sweetest Music, the prequel to The Snow on Her Cheek. And the moral was this: focus on your life and the life of your loved ones. Kurt Vonnegut said it better: by trying to love everyone, you are opening the window and shouting out: you can get sick. Don't fight oppression because all oppression is, ultimately, the way we perceive it. We all face oppression. Rebellion is not the answer. It has never been, and will never be. Turning away from it, finding solace in love and friendship is, on the contrary, something we should all do. And The Sweetest Music was born thanks to two people, one of whom you know very well, and the other one - I guess some of you know.
The first one is Fred Astaire and he helped me create the first chapter with this:
It is a bright and cheerful song, and the world I created for The Sweetest Music is, by contrast, dark and unwelcoming. That, too, is a subcontext: music sets you free. Jazz and blues have never been anti-oppression or otherwise political genres. And yet,they soothe your soul way better than politic-ised rock, and punk, and rap. Jazz is so completely, utterly apolitical, so meaningless, with titles like Peri's Scope and Salt Peanuts, that it is the best escapism the world of music can offer. Classical stirs emotion. Jazz stirs tranquillity. While Jazz never openly opposed war, it came to be associated with peace. While Jazz never openly opposed segregation, it was the music that talented black guys who could really play played to talented white guys who could really listen properly and who understood music. It was the music that, long before rock'n'roll, crossed the frontier of the skin without even making it its goal. And so on. Jazz is utterly apolitical, it stands aside from the rigours of life - and yet it is the medicine for our moral wounds. Music is what saves us. And love, too.
And the second person who helped create this is AcreuBall, an artist who created the cover art you can all see if you open up the story page. His behaviour or views did not influence the story, nor did his stories, but his skill as an artist did. In Lyra's eyes, there is this dispassionate, barren longing. In Bon-Bon's eyes there's this determined acceptance. As soon as I saw the cover art (which AcreuBall insisted on making for me - thanks to him for that), I knew immediately what my protagonists' characters would be like. And thus, I wrote them.
Finally, the event that prompted The Sweetest Music to be born was a bottle thrown from a window of a skyscraper landing precisely behind me in the street. Had I been slower, it could have landed on top of my head. I stood there, blinking at the shards, and then went home and wrote the chapter.
There is a reason why It Takes a Foal to Raise a Family has turned out to be a complete failure, despite all the hard work I have put in it. It was a political story. Gliss is political. She cares about what is happenning around her. By that, she is destroying what she has. All activists, all public people are destroying themselves in such a manner. Greenpeace, Gay-pride, Muslims Against Alcohol, Ku Klux Klan, the Hunters Association - everyone who devotes their life to such publicity ultimately destroys themselves. By turning away from this crazy world and knowing love and music, we find solace. This was the moral that was present in both The Snow on Her Cheek and The Sweetest Music. Neither Octavia nor Vinyl seek to become nation-wide famous. They just play their jazz. Octavia sacrifices her position for the love of music - a position that may have brought her even more fame that she already had. Instead, it gathered her certain infamy. And yet, she chose love and music.
Gliss chose publicity and rebellion. Thus, she was crushed under the weight of her own choice, and the choice that even I, as the author, could not prevent her from. Some people are just too stupid to realise the aforementioned morals (*coughAbronyfromitaly*cough*) - and Gliss was one of them. Thus, as all such people, she was morally spent by the mid-story. And she doesn't get her epilogue. Bye, Gliss.
Thus, the Music Trilogy keeps its name, but consists of two stories only. Have some beautiful lyre music that I wrote:
Or, alternatively, have some beatiful cello music that I didn't write:
P.S. I also recommend to listen to Dr Dissonance's "Ink Calligraphy" while writing. Just don't use headphones. The low double bass slices your mind like a knife.