There are few's judgement which affects me more than my own. In the moment, that feels odd to claim. To some extent, the judgement imposed on me from others shapes the person that I am, to whatever extent I deem to listen to it. Though, that is just it, isn't it? In the end I am arbiter of my own judgement, of what I take to heart. What sticks. In addition, it is responsible for how I weigh my own shortcomings, and how long they remain, and remind. I have the greatest effect on myself, for in

Read More

How much excitement is your time worth? If an experience brought you less excitement than it has done in the past, is it worth less to you? What if you did it with someone else? How much is their excitement, worth in terms of your time? Had you spent your resources elsewhere, and gained further satisfaction and excitement alone, was your time better spent? Each other person, surely does the same, so should each care only for their own investments?

Read More

Long nights and cool stars, the sounds of road frogs croaking, time passes us by and through it we venture. Some steps you have cherish, the ones you enjoyed the most, for their mark on you is fleeting, and on the road even more so.
It is the memory that entertains the goodwill of those steps, even if by time the memories erode and reshape. It does not matter if the step you remember were in reality as great as you conceived, all that matters is what it means to you.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

What trouble us can easily stack up, and when you have your gaze aimed forwards, you miss the luggage which weigh you down. However, many of us know it is there, we simply tell ourselves that we can handle it.
For some weights this is true, but if we use the excuse enough, soon we pick up and carry everything, unable to leave any worries behind us.
Acknowledge your weights, and they can be lifted.

Wish you all a Fun Filthy Friday~.

An oknytt stands by the edge of your door, an ear lent to hear the building speak, it sees the lone light through the glass pane, a flicker that means ill.
An oknytt through the gaps does soar, the untended flame it seeks, once found extinguished by a slap of its winding tail, a silent sigh as all fall still.
An oknytt wanders through the rooms, observing the slumbering gathering, spent it reckons.
An oknytt, satisfied, departs to snowy looms, Wanders homewards, through starlight's beckons.

Read More

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.

Read More

1, 2. 3, 4. The strands vibrate beneath my touch. 1 rings empty, 2 rings empty, as does 3 and 4. Perhaps, it was the ripples through the rest of my web? Perhaps the rhythm dispersed before it reached the end. Again. 1, 2. 3... was that? 4. Empty. It has been empty, each time I tried. Suppose nothing is coming.
...
1, 2. 3, 4. Empty. 1, 2. 3, 4... Perhaps, I should cease? The night bears down, silence reigns. Better to retire, and rise rejuvenated.

1, 2. 3, 4.
1... got you.

Read More

There is a pleasure to action, a thrill and eager to achieve, doubt and uncertainty in the moment, followed by a grand elation upon its success.
Yet, I find myself treasuring, inaction. There is a luxury to allow yourself respite. Perhaps savouring an anticipation, for something waiting ahead. In those moments, where I have done nothing, and not required to do anything, have I been happy?
Or, do I cherish nothing, all the more, when there is something else, that should be done?

Read More

What if I existed in place of one of my fore mothers? How would the sensations I feel today, translate to that of a creature in the dawn of life? Minds, senses, and out interpretation of ourselves in the whole of the world has changed dramatically again and again. What of me, as I am now, would exist back then? Perhaps, only the basics. Perhaps, some aspects only coincide tangentially to what I might have experienced. Perhaps, nothing.

Read More

I saw them far away, they did not consider me at first. I had seen such many times, and they became but a fleeting image passing the balcony of my senses.
Yet, something curious happened: they saw me.
I wasn't prepared for this, why would I be? I had seen them days on end, and we had both carried on. I still would, if not for the gaze that met me. They made me stop, they made me think, to consider them. As I imagined, they considered me.

Read More

Sometimes, despite doing all I can, the result is the same. Sometimes, despite all the resistance I put up, the opposition makes it through. In those times, my thoughts stray towards capitulation. There is little you can do to resist the forces out of my control.
Or, is there?
Thinking there is nothing one can do, breeds an ill behavior within me. And I think back to what I heard long ago: The bravest are those who know the odds are impossible, and still try.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today's story is chock full of girlfriend boyfriend teasing, and a ton of scat, toilet play, and waterspouts. So keep out, unless you deign to partake~.

Reduction comes for all, over the years, the word entropy rises to the forefront of the mind. Until one day it cannot be ignored. For some it comes faster than others. Those who have experienced it... it is their job to ease that sensations, for all that come after.

Happy Black Friday.

This week, we continue with the chronicles of the unfortunate Changeling, though this time, they are going on new ventures. Another chapter opens, and we will see what fate he shall be lead to.

Read More

We have another story coming up this week, part in a series. Depraved debauchery going down at the Orchard over the new years it seems, in with the old, out with the new?

What is a jelly without the gel? Why, it would be Y. A lonely letter, cold and dry. Least no one is yelling at it anymore.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Years become like days, as we traverse our paths. For each steps allows us to experience, and reflect upon all previous. Our journey becomes longer, and with it, our experience of it shrinks. An hour was a day, but now it is but a minute, a gradual change constant through our existence.
This awareness begets wisdom, a spark we cherish, and pass on for the future travelers.

Happy Filthy Friday, enjoy a scillitant weekend~.

When answering a question, take heed to consider if the answer you are providing is merely a recital, a regurgitation of what you have heard previously, what you have been told previously. And what importance does it serve? What can your personally add to it?
Or, what are you already adding, superfluously...

Happy Filthy Friday the 13th~.

Today we ha a pony story to share, a filthy one locked away in the bathroom, but not for the usual reasons. Turns out a changeling infestation can get you rather woozy. Check it out below.

With time the weather changes. With effort opportunities are made.
With Umbrellas rain is mitigated, with money effort is paid.
With dreams comes aspirations, but hardships they bare intimidated.
What can you solve. Can you solve enough?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Memory of pain differs so from the pain in the moment, a memory can amplify the hurt, can make it more meaningful in the living now. But, as memory fade, so eventually does the pain. We can tell ourselves it still hurts, though at some point, we just have ourselves, telling us we remember it. Those who can get through their pain, that is.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

For how long can you claim a role in the story?
If your significance declines and you see the others carry on, how long do you convince yourself that you are still important. Your presence has value.
For how many times do you see them require less and less, and your arguments fall shallow on ears twisted away from your words.
Surely, your presence has value...
It surely does, but perhaps in your story, instead of theirs.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

We also have a new story going up today, where Pinkie Pie herself appears to rescue a dear friend from the clutches of dreadful bureaucracy. Quite a filthy one this week, but lovely a goofy at the same time~.

Read More