Milestone 10: Seven Years

... of Fimfiction.

A little over that, considering I missed my account's birthday by two days, and that I was using Fimfiction for at least three months before my account's creation. But still, it warrants something; I'm still reading here after seven years, and come this October, I'll have been watching MLP:FIM for nine years.

Preposterously enough, that means that I've been watching a show about some ponies for half my life... because this year, I turned 18.

I won't lie to you, the reader, as I am wanton to do among my family and friends, not simply because I feel more comfortable with the internet and its aliases, but more so because I am a very personal and empathetic person who has the very difficult and obnoxious conundrum of finding the time and place to share my inner-reflections. And I feel now is an actually appropriate time to show that.

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Mentally, I feel fine. But I know I haven't always been; my personal life has slipped through the gaps and entered the irremovable annals of internet history more than once through the opening that this site's blogs system presents. Sometimes I realize the truth that I am free to come and go as I please on this site—but at most points I've found myself apologizing for matters that I know many people on this site are capable of empathizing with, but not interested in reading into; we're here for the fanfiction, aren't we?

So I don't want to bore you any further with the same-old nonsense—hell, if this pops into your feed and you happen to read or skim this far into my god-forsaken blog, I really hope you're actually interested. Allonsy...!

I've always been interested with the social interactions that many characters encourage with one another, be their lives real or imaginary; there is a complexity in accurately portraying a living being's soul and personality through text, and ever since I picked up on the fad of posting my writings I have been in love... but it is ever-increasingly difficult to find the desire to pick through the minefield of publishing fanfiction and push some life back into what has become a slog of a hobby.

Like my mindset of prior years—that lingers even now—I am very picky on what I do, and it is why I staunchly refuse to allow someone to edit my work; I am not a perfectionist, but I am someone who likes to have complete control over my work, and subsequently be the one to accept each failure as a failing of my own rather than a shared blame. And writing has been one of my greatest successes, but also overwhelmingly my greatest failure.

... But if you've read any of my blogs before, then you know that I've always faced the oppressive nature of being an author and shown it to you, and I am absolutely sick of telling that same old story! So with the obligated acknowledgement of my human qualities accomplished for this blog post, let's get a pony in here to break up the mood and bring us forward into a more positive light.

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I think I've never had a real point when I've written these kinds of blogs in the past; they are what they're advertised as: a blog! But I still find it ever peculiar how much the human mind can do and imagine... especially when it comes to pastel ponies. I guess, really, that I'm just surprised I've made it nine years in both a fandom and series without ever unabashedly thinking "I want to stop this and go back to what I used to do."

This show and writing have been with me for so long now that I can't imagine what it would be like to live 'normally.' This is the norm: I can't forget the walks to the bus stop in the morning a few years ago, contemplating where my story (At the time, Bushkeeper, Twilight the Great Gray, Cold Currents) could go; the constant inner squabbling over whether or not I should get up from bed and write, only to inevitably do something else; the debates over whether or not a chapter should go up, whether it's long enough, whether or not I should change my strategy, what I should write...

And as masochistic as it sounds, I like this. Every day needs a kick of stress to get you moving into action, and that could be anything from the need for a cup of coffee to the pay of a job. Even if it's not every day, writing and reading has always been my primary motivator for living day-to-day, to 'work for that weekend' so I might sit down with a drink and write till daybreak, for the glorious 'ole sun to breach through the cracks of the blinds, and for me to crawl into bed with dreams of ponies.

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That might sound a bit obsessed, but at this point, I really could care less. I'm happy with what I've done, even if I hate how meager a measure my fifteen published stories amount to. As one friend with the last name 'Small' once told me, "Remember the small people!"

And at this point, everyone here should agree that ponies are people, and despite how small they may be, they are something ever-difficult to leave behind or forget. Thank you all so very much for your kind words and time over the years, and here's hoping you've enjoyed the life you may have lived here as much as I have!

College-bound!
Odd_Shot