At times, there is a certain relief in letting go. I get used to burdens as they accumulate, as their compile and insinuate their presence in my life. Despite the loss and pain of letting them go, despite the agony of what I fear life would be without it, there is a wonderful sensation in being able to take deep, long, breaths.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

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To push oneself has a negative connotation. If you required pushing, then you probably didn't want to do it, why would it have been required to exert addition force otherwise? When tasks come simply, without question or resistance, we see it as positive, handled without a worry or stress, without a push.
It follows the philosophy of the path of least resistance. However, sometimes, a mere nudge is all a river requires to stretch into a new avenue, and flow farther, faster, than ever before.

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I remain alive, and as of June 13th am now the number of symmetries in a cube.

I will be at Trotcon.

Please contact me if you're there! (Or even if not, that's okay too.)

I might do an author party. I'll announce it with another post. Signal boost would be useful.

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Yeah, so, been a while, huh?

I'm pleased to let you know that the next chapter for Rebirth of the Damned is finished, finally. Aaaaand so is another one. Yep, got 2 chapters ready, the second one just needs my editing team to finish going over it.

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Is art, without observer? Is, any work, without a beneficiary? Is there creation, without a creator?

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For all the planning, for all the emphasis, for all the time laid down to perfect a single moment, that moment as all others will pass. I can tell myself that it was different, I can value that one moment higher than a hundred others. And perhaps, at certain times, I should.
At other times, I will put the weight towards who those moments were spent with, rather than what I was doing.

Happy birthday to me.

Happy Filthy Friday to you~.

Relapse. Rejuvenating a behavior you had long since hoped would be buried in your footprints. Have you stepped back on yourself? Tread ground you have been at before, knowing there is no grace hidden in that path? Or are your steps merely betraying you, likening one mistake to another, one fall for the next? What if they represented the same events? A life is riddled with woe, and we remain as the one we always are, an mistake in the present, is the same as the mistakes of the past.

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...while I'm still surprised that one of my stories appeared on TV Tropes, I did not expect for another one of mine to appear on that site again!

This time, it's my holiday story, Sunset's Wonderful Life back in the year 2019-20. Check it out if anyone's interested:

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/SunsetsWonderfulLife

Thank you so much to whoever made a web page of my story on that site. I'm honored!

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What wonders awaits us, none. As simple as that, for nothing waits for those walking, all that is we have now, and nothing more can be created from nothing. Withing ourselves, it is what we think that becomes a reality, how we act and how we portray ourselves is what matters for the world. If you strive to be responsible, then you will forever strive.
You are what you are, and all that matters is what you are now. For what you are now, you will be for the rest of your life.

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Time goes by too quickly, and time speeds by to fast, while I sit back into my couch and pack on cushion ass.
Light now withdrawing, and nights growing... roaming, that could have been anything.
You just, have to keep out of its sight.
As long as you stay moving, you fade from its bright. So do not just stand there, with robe unveiled, while there is lot else worth exploring.

Happy nightmare night~.

Wash your hands for 30 seconds.

How easy our mind shifts from one to the next, even what we appreciate makes up not but a fraction of all that goes on within us, connections crafted and paths forged, walkways ready for us to tread them, and yet we can only strive so far away from the main road.
Are the additional thoughts wasted effort? Or what makes us living?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

I sit on a beach, a bit mellow and sad,
when out from a burrow, scuttles a crab.
The shelled critter stares, across the sand it zooms,
it hasn't seen anyone, beset by this gloom.
It is there for a moment, then fades out of sight,
The shelled critter has no input, on my weary plight.
When out from my sorrow, bemused and, glad?
I sit on the beach, an monument to a crab.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

This week the life lessons we learned are:

-Do not impersonate cops, they don't like it and will arrest you.

-You could be minding your own business going to the store or walking down the street or whatever and suddenly naked stranger...and you know it's never going to be someone you want to see naked.

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Almost a year ago now, I took part in the Lustful Lent Pony Artpack, and today I'll start posting the story submitted for it. It has been a lot of fun, and I am eager to work with them more~.

At times, when walking down the road of life, I see some in trouble. I see those with legs in poor condition, their pace rickety as their osseotissue clockwork grinds ever onward. Some can be helped. Yet the road is wide. Densely populated. Perhaps I am just scared.

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There is so much to do, and yet I choose to do nothing. It pains me not to work, and yet I leave it be. Days are fallen leaves, and autumn's clutches firm. Auburn crumbles through my fingers, the dust of time's allure.
Yet staring down will only fill the mind with a carpet of tree's veil, but looking up gives me a chance, to catch one by the tail.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

So, first off, I’m not dead. I’m lurking and getting ready to begin writing on the story for October, but I wanted to give a general update and a few other things.

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How much longer will it take to complete this task?
How often do I think about that? How often is the question not, what am I doing? Why am I doing it? But: When am I done?
Yet, sometimes, for very few tasks, this melts away. Everything revolves around the what, how, and why. And in those rare moments, if the question of when comes up... the answer is the same: There is no after, there is only this.

Happy Filthy Friday~, and Happy Darkest night.

Time stretches on, with you in tow or not. It asks not to keep up pace, merely to stay on the path. Each a step, after another.
But what if, there really was something beyond?
Beyond the veil of the route that engraves existence, beyond our grasp of life?
Is that a place we can walk to, or do we simply fall over the edge?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Treading towards the end, watching the cobble of the path fall apart, but the rocks staple together beneath my feet, each step progressing as if nothing happened, as if everything was right. But then, before the fall, new pathways converge, cobble clatter together, and before I have a chance to look down, the path is the same as it ever was.
And so it will be, until that fateful day.

Happy new Year~.