Twas so long ago now, since I knew true peace, the kind which frees one from all obligations. I recall those moments fondly, yet know they cannot come again. Obligations, are healthy. The ones I set for myself aids me through each and every day, despite them perhaps, greedily devouring my time. If they were not spent on my obligations, I would have wasted them elsewhere.
The greatest part of the obligations.

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Morbid curiosity has gotten me further than I would like to admit, times I prod past the veil of taboo and work my way into someone's deb. There is only so much to a person's physical form, and the grander your understanding of it, the closer you get to the spirit. For if you can understand its control scheme, the way it has to puppeteer this meat suit, the more your grasp its limits the further defined the negative space of the ethereal creature becomes.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

As days blends into months, our perception picks up speed, as years go by each day becomes an ever diminishing part of our lives. What was once a week feels as but a day, and hours shave as minutes once did.
And yet, some days lasts, if we make it so.

Happy Filthy Friday, and a Happy Vore Day~.

We have a new story out this week, where the human Rarity and Applejack (also human) have been together for a whole year, and that simply has to be celebrated.
Find the story below, but know it is quite filthy~.

Sometimes it is just sad. Sometimes you just want to hurt people, as if it would sate the cosmic balance. Sometimes everything falls apart around you, despite your words, despite your struggle, despite you.
We try to keep that a "Sometimes".

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Sometimes I just want to bake bread. What kind? One I can knead, one which I can force all the thoughts and distresses of the day to day into, one that not only is capable of taking the force, but will grow from it, will mature and develop until it is presentable. I strive to do the same.
One day I will develop gluten.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

July, what a wondrous month, so similar to June, with barely anything to mark they difference in the slew of summer and delight of free weeks spent with those cherished.

Such a deceptive time of year. The prime time for the hive of impersonation critters to spread their influence over the land.

In July, we have an event going on focused on change and trickery, going along with that is a series about changelings, with a story uploaded every week in July.

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Thus we rise once more, stand to the sound of the becoking call of the unknown we cannot but fear and revear equally, the fuel which propells us into vast stretches of never before experienced moments. The roads trails ever forwards, and who are we to deny its lustre?

Happy new year everyone, and I wish you a Fantastic Filthy Friday~.

I move too slow for time. It will not listen, it will not yield
My feet drag behind me in the cleft of weaving moments. Time can not listen, Time cannot yield.
I shout my frustration, condemning each future or past moment with one of my present.
Time has no ears. Time has no blame.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today, I am launching my patreon, with methods added to earn commissions overtime and look behind the scene.
you can find it if you write /septia after the Patreon web address.
Be aware, it will contain naughty contents in the future.

Give it a glance when you have a chance.

But for now, have a wondrous week and a Festive Filthy Friday~.

Rainfall reaches far, stretching beyond one person, one understanding, one experience. It cannot be taken and contained, not shaped and crafted to give a whole of its event experienced through a single pair of eyes. Who is to say what pespective, time, or length a rainfall truly is? When it is all a collective of numerous opinions, of subjective experiences.

Have a Fantastic Filthy Friday, and a Wonderful Week~.

How deep does the worm burrow? Far enough to escape the light, far enough to escape the dry, far enough to be safe from the surface. Striaghtforwad, it seems. Yet why is the answer so clear, how do we know?
For the worm in the light shrivells, the word in torrid earth withers, the worm on the surface gets caught. Thus, they are no longer worms.
Thus we know, what the worm is.
Except, for those who dig far enough, those distant to our sight.

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Steps merge into one as we journey, one to the next, so that there is no longer any one, and the steps taken are long gone. There is just the next, for life does not slow down, and each action is in preparation to a future event.

Wishing you all a Fantastic Filthy Friday.

A rush of adrenaline gets a human being through a lot more than they would expect. Limitations broken, and new horizons located in those brief glimpses of time. To reach beyond the possible.
Of course, such acts carry a price, an overdose of the impossible sends shock waves through the material, and can leave ones strong bones brittle, and wills reduced to rubble. There is a price to reach the impossible, but how far we need to reach, lessens gradually.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~

Wash your hands for 30 seconds.

Sleep is dangerous. It is a threat to creativity and progress. We bow to it for our biology deems it so, and yet moments of grand inspiration and energy to work comes just during the small hours of the night where our body urges us to rest. Why this torment, why this torture? Why must we be besieged by the horrors of sleep?

Or. Mayhaps it is an illusion, of our own grandeur.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Trade up. A progression of profit for oneself and the craft one partakes in, experience is gained for the craft, whilst nothing visible is given.
To trade up is an exchange of good, whereby the goods you offer provides you with a benefit, as what you gain has a higher worth attached to it. Yet, two objects are merely that, the benefit is the implied, unseen force weighing down the scale.

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Today we are having a new story uploaded~

This one involving some ponies being hypnotized and some filthy, naughty situations brought on by a large predatory pony. Who is to say which pony is willing or not?

The story can be found uploaded right on the profile.

while this is not the full sunrise we are seeing on the horizon of what is to come, it is a peek.

Have a delightfully Filthy Weekend~.

How many years old am I, if we disregard hours slept?
Would you consider yourself alive in your sleep? You are only so many steps removed from the alternative. What constitutes as an active-life age? Perhaps it does not matter. We have all lived as many days as our age shows. Then again, days is a concept, a dream we share together. Our life, is what we do. Perhaps some who sleep less, have more experience, or would their opposites, be able to use their energy in more elegant manners.

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Time goes by, hands turn wrinkled with experience. What do we see in those wrinkles? Seldom clean, as they forge they open the gates for dust, dirt, and grime to nestle their way inside and clog every crack. It goes too far to wash out completely, yet without the dirt, the wrinkles themselves would be made harder to distinguish. Through hardship, our experiences are defined.

Happy FIlthy Friday~.

Can progress stand as a function of effort and fuel? There are more variables, certainly. Though despite how much effort you might have, without fuel there is nothing. Then again, if there is an abundance of fuel, far above that of the effort, then we run into diminishing returns. One can only expend so much, and one can only consume so much.
So then it is again a balance, a tug of how much one can achieve, and the resources needed to accomplish one's goals.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

I have collaborated with some great artists to bring out another pony artpack.

Anal vore Autumn

It contains animations, over 30 illustrations, and a new story of mine that has a tie in comic by Dendollae.
Blazeblue, Augustbebel, Crazy Water, novaspark, Ladytechna and more are all involved.

Head to Derpibooru or Eka's portal for the announcement, since I cannot post links to it.

The artpack itself is on E-junkie.

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