How we look ahead affects our actions in the now. What do you see? Do you see a straight path? Do you see twists? Is your gaze aimed skywards, or dug beneath the roots of trees?
Could one see what is ahead, as no mere path at all, but a bend, a curve we close towards, or long since past the reaches of its clutches.
Do we turn away, or move to embrace it?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

With one side in darkness, and struggles in tow,
each vary step, is a challenge to swallow.
To give up ones baggage, and stride without weight,
leaves open your body, for the darkness to sate.
Giving in to the shade, as some see them do,
makes the baggage fade, but so do they too.
In the end we must balance, perception and mind,
keeping sights honed ahead, and vary of our hind.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Perseverance. A word which contains the essence of life. Life is but perseverance against the end, foiled by decay.For whatever may fuel a being to wake up each day, and go on as it has all the days prior, it personifies Perseverance.

Happy nightmare night~

Time flows, a river by the road. Though it is never seen, to stop and turn our head towards it, interrupts its flow. We experience it only as we continue to stride, without seeing time itself, we bare witness to all it affects. With every step, time has altered the road, and woven new life into our surroundings. What is then the point of looking for time, when we'll be the closest to its majesty, every moment, of every step, of our journey.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today's story is classified at the highest level ... of enjoyable.

Mr. and Mrs. S.M.I.L.E.
[Equestria Girls] [Adventure] [Comedy] [Drama] • 10,530 words

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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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Once I had thought the road of life to be solid ground, only to be shaken when it gave out beneath me.

We have a story today~. The Chronicles of the royal flush continue this week with a rather reluctant contributor. Be warned of filthy content, as always~.

Times come and times go, opportunities present themselves and are grasped or ignored as they flow by. But time and opportunity wait for no one, there come other hands to snatch up what is forgotten, and other ideas to sit in the past's chair. If the time we live in slows for no one, why should we give it any other treatment?

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Today we have a big camping trip story, Twilight, Applejack, and even Rainbow Dash enter the realm of the humanoids, where one dare leads to another, which leads to a ton of messy situations~.

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

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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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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~.

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~.

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~.

What is a sandwhich other than a vessel? A fluffy, spongy coating sealing an amalgamation of meat and fillings within, squishy materials who on their own is lesser than the sum of their parts. There are no two sandwhiches laying equal, only those alike, and there is infinite potential for how it can be arranged and enjoyed. All sandwiches are not to the taste of every eater, yet who can say a sandwich is inherently poor or tasteless? It is true we tend to group those alike into a group, by

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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~.