Time draws close to all, a string of events as beads on a chain, the further we draw it the more beads correlate throughout our vision, we make beads every moment, but never to see the chain we've made, or where this chain will lead.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Fortune is in high demand, though they stopped making it years ago. With only so much to go around, the one reliable way of acquisition is to pilfer from others. Some who has fortune to spare, for others it is all they have. There is a balance, equilibrium can be achieved, though this would not benefit those who carries the largest fortune.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

As easy as it flies in our grasp, it flutters forth into the abyss. Who is to say they have any grip on this world? Every moment is fleeting, every action meant for not. Time mends suffering, the only way it can.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

I rest in the shadow of a young, sprig tree. Its branches reach just past the tip of my boot. The air here is crisp, freshly brewed and vented, by the same aamaritan providing cloak from the sun. Yet all around it stand grander trees, with grander branches, soaking up sun, sighing cool air. My tree is dwarfed, in the company of the ageless, those who savour the same world, drink the same atmosphere, and yet are a distance away, greater than any journey. I may never know the experiences of a

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Two brothers quarrel to split their family asunder,
one side grows strong while the other goes under.
Together sparks fly and the tension grows high,
but neither brother bid the other goodbye.
In but one frail moment, all was lost,
the brothers left to lament the cost.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Wash your hands.

A branch knocked onto the explorer's head,
they thought nothing of it, and went on instead.
A branch knocked onto the explorer's chest,
they thought nothing of it, ill time for a rest.
A branch knocked onto the explorer's neck,
they thought nothing of it, and continued their trek.
they paid no attention to what latched onto their nape,
for while out exploring, every branch looks like a snake.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Sweet summer sun and the taste of oranges underneath the calming winds beneath a tall tree. I can taste the citrus nectar on my lips, the brisk air, and shadows of rustling leaves. Were I close my eyes, I would be there once more. Though, there is no time to shut them, there is work to be done, and when it slips my memory, it will never exist again.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Fester, thoughts believed banished, rising foam of doubt and terror sprawling through our mind. A call of falsehood only fuels them, the more we think of them, the more life they are granted. The past is only real because we recall it, our memory dictates what remains in our reality, and what falls by the wayside. Despite being selective, there can always be the hermit thoughts, those too deep to pluck, who foament doubt and sorrow, we believed to have banished. A hole in a puzzle, is as much

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As nature iterates it divides, branches spreading ad finding their niche, burrowing through the grounds and soils of life to approach its place in the whole. Some branches fall short, and yet they still nourish the whole of the tree, allowing the others ones to reach further than they ever could hope to achieve alone. Together, whole.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

One mushroom, a foot in a cap lounging in place, defying expectation in shying away from sunlight, towards the crannies of comfortable darkness where other plants stray far from. Course, they are not flora. They feed elseway, they drain their nourishment, cleaning the underbelly of nature of the sickened, or create the cause of the sickness. So inconspicuous, so small, creatures of the dark need not impress with their volume, their size is as their preference: secluded in darkness.

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It is the second week of Twin Month 2022, and we are releasing the other half of last week's story, which fittingly contains the "conclusion" to the happy twins therein~.

There once was a crab on the beach, it polished its scale on a smooth rock.
It wondered, "how come my shell is rigid, yet the stone here's a polished block?"
The tides answered. First one wave, then another. Washing over crab and rock, a briny breeze of the ocean.

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Poison and medicine overlap. A poison, in a small dose, functions as a medicine. Whilst a medicine, in a large dose, functions as a poison. Do you see it? In a sense, a factor of whether a substance qualifies as poison or medicine, lies in its amount. It is said not to take too much of a good thing, in the same vein, a small amount of poison, need not necessarily cause harm.

Happy Twin Month, and happy Filthy Friday~.

Sleep as you would under the stars, with body bare and legs apart.
hang if you will by the worlds handlebars, away from influences that would impart.
But wake each moment,
the world's not patient,
it comes to you with judgement insistent.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There is a new pony artpack, summer edition, which I can not link to here, but if you find my other Septia accounts then you can find a link to the artpack~. A lot of artists making some fun content for it.

Sometimes, it does not go the way I wanted it to.
It still goes.
And while I can, it is how I react to the changes that determine my path. The path has but one end, until then, it only forks.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

I was thinking now,
That I would write a poem,
But this is ramble.

Poeticism,
is rarely what we write here,
Potassium, yum.

Wishing you a happy Filthy Friday, and a Wholesome Weekend.

To understand something, I tend to turn towards the moments that something breaks. Breaking points teach a lot: you get a grasp of its limits, and in turn what it can do; how each parts fit together, grasping what makes it click; and it is easier to peer past the exterior, in order to observe the machinations inside.

I have learned a lot about myself, this way.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Days pass, the campfire is lit. Sparks fly and stories are told, knowledge shared and wisdom grows. Age and knowledge cultivates into the cornerstone of civilization. Despite the stories being told, for the most parts, were those unconcerned with worldly events. All were important, both in their own way and their contribution, yet at the moment it was a way of spreading joy between neighbors.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Relief is said to come when you alleviate your ties, the tension eases and your mind unwinds. Perhaps that is so, but were I to listen, I would relinquish all that my mind is tied to. If I untie one know, who is to say it won't undo them all? And if not, who's the say the next knot won't? Or the next? Or the next?

Perhaps I have already sunken too deep. Perhaps I have made it unattainable to myself, perhaps it doesn't matter.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Floating in silence. There is no embrace to catch you, nor bottom to reach. Falling was lost on you long ago, the sense integrating to your thoughts, your sensations, to your routine. Perpetual. That is how your mind sees it. That is how you make your mind see it. The thing with falls. Is that there is always a bottom.

Happy Filthy Black Friday~.

When time slows to a crawl,
where to can you go at all?
If every moments last a life,
when is there time for fun and vice?
Whence hours die and seconds come to rest,
You will discover your patience put to the test.

Happy Vore Day~.