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.

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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~.

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~.

Today we have a new story coming up, how will Twilight react when all her friends have shrunken

Vision blotted by tears, the window to the soul grows dim. It shields the self in a bubble, reflecting ever inwards to offer a moment of respite. Perhaps it shuts out the world for a moment, to pretend nothing else exists. But, it is in the world that the self is made. However painful it becomes, eventually we blink.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Off in the distance,
The whistle of a kettle,
Receding further...

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Wish you well, Pikamee.

Today is rather quiet, there is too much going on.
Funny how that works, is it not?

With enough changes to leave ordinary life a juggling struggle, it is uncertain if it will be kept steady, or if we will eventually lost balance.

Until then, enjoy Filthy Friday on the other profiles with Stories, and have a fantastic weekend, one and all~.

Today we continue the Throne Chronicles. With so many seats met before, how will this one hold for the changeling ambassador? Will they rise above, or be flushed down the drain.
Check out the story below.

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Where do I go when my path weighs even across both sides? I always think I can observe it closer, deeper and deeper, on the scale of worth and value, there should be a dent that puts one side over the edge. And if not, I scrutinize closer. And if it is still even, I go deeper. The more I observe, the more my surroundings alter and adapt to the lens of my vision.
however, if the scale remains even through the most minute of observations, then I will tip it myself.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Hey there, Happy Filthy Friday to you all,
Today we have a new story, one with Twilight and booty escapades.
A calm, laid back snuggle, at least for one of the parties involved.

Some things are so big, that they become insignificant. Others are so far away, they do not exist. Some things, take so long, that they never happen. And others seem to happen at a constant basis.

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Can we see our footprints when they are swallowed by our shadows? Does it matter, when the road ahead lay clad in mystery? To stop is to sink, contemplate not the step you are on, but the one you will take. Darkness or light, all pass. They affect our stride, as much as our last step did.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Fine print, is a skill check. But what skill does it fall under?
Perception is possible, particularly when perusing parchment.
Knowledge is a candidate, considering ones curiosity.
Falsehood is factual, fortune favours fakers.

But in the end, it does not matter which way it is failed, only that it happens.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today marks the first story we publish to Fimfiction of 2020, the start of a new chronicle, with a familiar franchise peeking in behind the veil~.

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When I was young, there was a daily need that stewed within me. A desire to fill. Often this was met with food. Though, hunger could be sated, a physical hole to be filled and plugged. But this desire was different. Impressions, ideas, media, stories, items, exploration... If all desires were slaked, all holes filled, it dug new ones, always moving to the next, shifting, running, pouring into several at a time. Yet also it kept moving. Spare little time spent to dedicate oneself to a single

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Quite strange, it feels as if a year had just passed by in an instance... So many voices calling out to be muted by aethereal filaments. Of untapped potential and personality. Wherefore hath this presence made itself manifest?
Will it ever return, or will we then have changed too much to recognize it?

Happy Filthy Leapyear Friday~

What is the road? We tread upon it during our journey - the quest of walking, waking, understanding - yet the road itself does not exist, merely a concept brought about underneath us through a collective will to have it there. We see because others see it. Because we need to walk? We need a destination. We have to put one foot after the other. How deep does it go? Will someone who does not believe in the wall have it cease existing for them, or does it run deeper? Is there a collective

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It is a curse to live during interesting times, despite the ravenous hunger one has for stories.
Interesting times, make for wondrous stories, though a miserable experience. As always, any good story requires conflict.

Happy Filthy Friday~. And Happy Twin Month~.

Slowly does one sink into tar,
it feels like standing still, least not going far.
It feels fine, not a change in their smirk,
Slowly they find themselves, waist deep in murk.

Happy Filthy Friday~.