The Silence of Gossamer Wings - by Twifight Flippant Measure Treasured Guardian. · 7:38am Apr 20th, 2017
There is no surprise amongst the revered when their dear mother takes a long hiatus.
In fact, it has nearly become a celebrated holiday; I am either present and woefully accountable for tiresome ages, or gone from any social view without a hint nor excuse as to why. There are no excuses in life, children.
Better to just shrug your shoulders and accept that what is will be, opposed to fighting against that which you cannot devour. I cannot devour my ails, as my influence only carries so much weight. It makes me angry, tired, and a bit miserable, to be honest.
I find that my dreams are an escape these days - those colourful, complex semi-conscious masterpieces that leave your mind wholly engrossed despite the absurdity depicted within, mm? I have these recurring fancies that are firmly rooted in complex architecture; unbelievably realistic impossibilities that require investigation for months at a time, though taking about five minutes of REM sleep. Chemicals are good, yes.
My woes are no deterrent from my resolve. I remain staunch, stoically and VIOLENTLY opposed the the popular political views, and until the roads are paved in the crimson innards of my opposition, I cannot rest. Even after an evening of Netflix and chilling.
MOTHER IS A VOLATILE SUBSTANCE THAT EXPLODES WHEN EXPOSED TO ... ANYTHNG ELSE! BE IT AIR, WATER, EMOTIONAL STRESS, DETRIMENTAL REMARKS... WHATEVER! Sadly, that means it takes her a long while to recover, and it hurts us all. It hurts us. It hurts. Hurt.
How selfish. How can I call myself a parent when I am so easily derailed and bamboozled by paltry circumstances? How can I ask you to let me love you when I can't love myself as much?
Howl with me. Let us raise our monstrous voices against all the things that hurt us and defy the poisonous things that bury our innocence! HOWOO-OOOL! BURN TO ASH, HATEFUL SPITE! CARRY YOUR ACRID PLUMES OF DOUBT TO THE WINDS, WHERE THEY'LL BE DISPERSED AND DIFFUSED PROPERLY!
... please die on the winds. I need you to die. We all do.
"Hello! It has been a while, my pets."
... literally how every blog I've written in the last few years has ever started. Wow, redundant much?
This is a message to the faithful that remain despite my long absences - I am still here, still dreaming, and DETERMINED to finish what I've started. I still hold you hard against my heart, and that will never change. I have stories to write, comic strips to reveal, bad ideas to bestow upon the masses... YES. I AM STILL HERE!
Here's a link to PresentPerfect's review of Intransigence: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/728825/fic-recs-april-12th
... I don't have enough to say beyond this. So let's have a cool image, shall we? Yes, let's do that:
We all win, TheRedBrony.
*Bark, Bark!*
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Your moon song touches my heart.
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It's way more Scientology than Russia. It's actually not even remotely communist.
You have returned. Hail the Mother
Glad to see that you're still around Oh Purple One.
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I'm not sure what surprises me more, that PresentPerfect bothered to review Intransigence or that you paid attention. Also, I don't think he's ever had a nice thing to say about your stories. Remember his comment on Misinterpreted?
Being flippant is fun.
I wanna play hide n seek at the newly burned down lot that might've been a food bank. I forget. Maybe it was a Goodwill store. Or an office. Maybe it was a homeless shelter. Or an orphanage. Whatever it is, it is now filled with burned ash, crumbly wooden beams, and hide n seeks. Wanna join in, Momma? :3
Just mind the police tape. Oh, and the police wanna play hide n seek, too. Actually, I think they wanna play tag. They're "it".
We will always be here for you mother dearest.
Mer?
Long time, no headache voice! Speaking of dreams, I had a weird one last night. I was in this shithole house (where I am currently) and I walked outside and saw that every single house on the block had a flagpole with the US flag hoisted. And all but one were filthy, torn, and tattered. That might sound poetic or like it has some deeper meaning - and hey maybe it does - but in the moment, it was more like 'hey you fucktards, fix your shitty flags.' I'm pretty flippant in dreams... and perhaps in the waking realm as well.
Oh, also, I vote Soviet Russia. I mean, that whole thing definitely draws parallels to kool-aid-drinkers, but yeah.