The many tar pits · 10:26pm Mar 6th, 2020
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~.
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~.
As storm clouds loom ahead, I upon my bed, and knit a pouch or sorrows, to carry for tomorrow. I line the piping in dread, and thread the warp with fear, and once the pouch is woven, I wash it out with tears.
Come bright morrow I step outside, bag of mine in hand,
It is filled with bright thoughts and fantasies, I carry across the land.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
This week we have a new story to share, one involving The Orchard, a pleasant bar where like minded pony folk can relax and indulge in some depravity. And sometimes, a mutt or two.
Struggles harden the mind, through the weight of hardship the body molds.
Stress toughens the body, through the pressure of failure the mind buffs.
Both follow a pattern, weaving through one another, to craft the felt of consciousness.
We trap ourselves in a cycle, it goes commitment, that reaches deep into the night, and to then rest the brief amount of time I have, to wake up and realise there is more commitment. At which point, instinct delays it, and becomes pushed forward, down the day, into the afternoon. And then work begins again....
Happy Filthy Friday~.
Thoughts of snow. Of the pleasant chill that invades your veins, chains your nerves to the whims of winter and sends your spine rattling. It rouses a heat. The throes of your body engaged to keep you warm, to keep living. A visceral experience of your essence clinging to life... made tactile. You cannot just feel it, you are beset to feel it...
Few, though, desire to dance with their own mortality.
They are a rough partner.
Present, or not.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
5 steps away, I didn't give the time of day.
4 steps away, I had nothing to say.
3 steps away, I attempted to delay.
4 steps past... I hadn't expected it would move so fast.
Happy Clean Friday~.
There once, was a creature, from the wilds,
Its apperance, it used, to beguile,
but with claws like knives, and a breath so vile,
its reception, was cheritably, quite mild.
So it found new ways of entry,
Its apperance, quite elementary,
For isn't it so, a single thought is quite strong,
and can dig deep into your memory.
Happy Filthy Friday~.
Welcome to the second week of "Change, is in July".
The series of stories of changelings continue this week, with a new victim in line, and trans formative deception ahoof in the little town of ponyville. Give it a look for this week's story upload, linked in this blogpost.
Be careful which house you enter this month, some might not be what you expect.
If you want to know more of this month's event then head over to my Eka's or furaffinity profiles, good luck on the hunt~.
Today we have the continuation of last weeks story, the second chapter to tie it all together.
The story ramps up a bit, going away from some of the calmer slice of life themes to some naughty and lewd slice of life themes.
Pinkie pie plumps up her pudgy plumbings~.
and a naughty way to complete the ribbon on this series.
It gets naughty, it gets foul, pinkie gets nessy, celebratory howl~.
So, hope you enjoy, have a wonderfully Filthy Friday and a fantastic Weekened~.
Darkness. We attribute it to the dangers of this world. For true, on the highway of life, if you cannot see, then how can you follow the road? How do you know who walks among you, and who can be trusted?
In light, it is made clear, but light alone blinds, it stings, and can as darkness would, cause a crash.
Then is it not favorable, that we share a blend of the two? both in life, and those around us. We can never know all of them, there is always blinding light, and gentle darkness.
Oh to fly as the paper in the wind, carried to your destination, though said location remains unknown. A paper seldom considers its situation, but would it ever wonder where it is going? That this method of progression is not of its own accord, but drawn by outside forces? Will it wish to have the freedom in forsook in this path? At the whims of the unknown, lacking any agency to propose.
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~.
Whatever dreams can we form in the wake of daylight? The moments before we can absorb sunlight and merely wallow in the dusk of our rest? In that moment, when reality seems as nothing more than part of our dream, it is then we remember our escapdes of the night the strongest. And yet, they are dismissed. Our minds realising there is nothing of value to be found there. And thus, one wonders, what truly separates dusk from dawn?
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~.
I dug three feet into the ground,
three feet and nothing more.
Had I went all four foot down,
There'd be gold and treasure galore.
And while some think, that fact is sad,
truth do be told,
three feet was all I had.
Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.
Weirduary is still in full swing on my other profiles at Eka's portal and Furaffinity, but you'll have to find that yourself if you are interested~.
(I'll even give you a clue, a keyword even to traverse the interwebs... Septia.)
there are some fun pony projects I have in the works as well, but those should be coming first after Weirduary has passed. After that, who knows, I'll be open for more commissions.
Our minds like to work in extremes, it is easier to handle and sort that way. but our mind is also crafted by our own perspectives. Thus if we think of situations ad black and white, we might find another conundrum whose black option is much deeper than anything we had imagined, and whose white is blinding.
are then the previous options still black and white? Thought exists between those extremes, for the road of life is as black as the night sky.
Happy 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~.
Does a skeleton live inside each and every one of us? Or is the skeleton itself a slave to the whims of flesh? Bound by sinew to carry out the impulses of electricity shocked through canals of tissue and blood? Or were we the skeleton all along.
Aging like the rings of a tree trunk.
Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.