• Member Since 15th Feb, 2017
  • offline last seen April 13th

Septia


This page is for the lewd and depraved writing concocted by Septia. Naturally, only the pony related gets posted here. For the rest of my work, head to my Eka's or FurAffinity.

More Blog Posts363

  • 1 week
    I dread the Clouds

    As storm clouds loom ahead, I upon my bed, and knit a pouch or sorrows, to carry for tomorrow. I line the piping in dread, and thread the warp with fear, and once the pouch is woven, I wash it out with tears.
    Come bright morrow I step outside, bag of mine in hand,
    It is filled with bright thoughts and fantasies, I carry across the land.

    Happy Filthy Friday~.

    0 comments · 10 views
  • 2 weeks
    Rousing learning

    I look upon the fruit's grandeur: its shell vibrant with a scintilla sheen of its hues. Within housing pods of nourishing, supple syrup. Each pod holds a seed, the intended recipient of the fruit's benefits. Were it not for the seed, there would be no fruit, were it not for the seed, there would be no plant. And yet here I stand, holding the fruit, claimed for my own. What right do I have to it?

    Read More

    0 comments · 8 views
  • 2 weeks
    A kneading Experience

    Sometimes I just want to bake bread. What kind? One I can knead, one which I can force all the thoughts and distresses of the day to day into, one that not only is capable of taking the force, but will grow from it, will mature and develop until it is presentable. I strive to do the same.
    One day I will develop gluten.

    Happy Filthy Friday~.

    0 comments · 12 views
  • 3 weeks
    Curiosity's Call

    Morbid curiosity has gotten me further than I would like to admit, times I prod past the veil of taboo and work my way into someone's deb. There is only so much to a person's physical form, and the grander your understanding of it, the closer you get to the spirit. For if you can understand its control scheme, the way it has to puppeteer this meat suit, the more your grasp its limits the further

    Read More

    0 comments · 18 views
  • 5 weeks
    Too short, but for too long

    I don't like measuring my progress in years, because it starts to feel too short, a year is such a large span of time, we have a double digit of them in a life, and to think I spent so much of that without a clear purpose, is scary. Thankfully, it is easier to forget than to think.

    Happy Filthy Friday~.

    0 comments · 19 views
Nov
10th
2018

Stiny Fishes on the road · 12:09am Nov 10th, 2018

While threading the road of life, whether in the warm or cold grey light, we will pick up luggage; ballast we carry with us, that weigh us down.
As time goes on, it grows. Guilt, anxiety, and other ailments. Carried for too long, and their scent will grow rotten. But by that point we do not notice its smell, we are used to it.
It is only when we acknowledge that we carry this luggage, that we can discard it. While the scent will linger, the journey will be lighter.

Happy stinking Filthy Friday~.

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