I wish to remain inside. Inside, this place I have crafted, this state of emotions which I have kept in balance, where I can languish in peace. Though, were I to screen reality out, it would soon come knocking. So I pretend, I appease, and I worry, if reality will remain outside.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

This piece is going to aggravate a few people. I’ll state that up front because I know it’s going to aggravate them because I’ve already expressed this opinion elsewhere and had some people express very much that they disagreed with it.

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Dreary days pass and in their wake leave footprints. Dreary shoes dig down in mud and sculpt their image on the road. Tired legs struggle through their aching muscles, moving forward once and again. For the path their footprints lay, turns solid ground for the next wanderer.

Happy Black Friday~.

Today we have a new story about a changeling, left to their own devices in the aftermath of the canterlot struggle, and the lewd ways he recovers and satisfies their hunger.

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They barely show the characters' redeeming qualities at the start of the arc instead of the end. And they also usually show only the more violent and villainous side of the villain/antagonist instead of showing a more friendly and affable villain that routinely gets along with the heroes. For example, most of the MLP and Steven Universe redeemed villains. We barely get to see them as more than just villains before they get instantly get redeemed at the end through only a sad backstory or noble

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Warning: The following blog will contain spoilers for the current incarnation of my story idea. Please DO read it if you are willing to bear that risk, and offer suggestions for how it may be improved or for things that would fit well. There are a few parts that I feel are a bit too much like crossovers or that might break immersion by being "Look, suddenly a ___!"

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One can strive without strife.
There will be pressure, there will be resistance, though without it, there is stagnation.
Would I wade through the waterfall, were there no current?
Would I rest in a dry valley?
There will come a time, there will require action, though in constant use, it wears thin.
One can strive without strife.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

All I can say is "Why?" and "WTAF?!". Some people took the time to make Pinkie Pie's mentally unhinged personality even worse and over-the-top.

As I've said before in my post about PONY.MOV, ponies and gory stuff such as dismemberment, cutting off cutie marks and wings, corpses, blood, and organs coming out of their mouths absolutely do not go well for me.

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Memory. We talk of our memory, of events in the past, so often with grand words of certainty. I know this happened, that is how it happened, you did this. And yet, our memory is the ghosts of shadows coloured by our own perspectives, beliefs, and moods. Memory and the past, both are representations fabricated within our minds. Fleeting.
If memory is fickle, then what is Knowledge or Wisdom?
Knowledge is the information we known in the know.

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What sort of summer will it be?
Did you ever pay attention to the first butterfly you saw when the first warm days came? Some say it is a preminition of the season.
From its colours you can scry the future, finding purpose.

Butterflies are not inherently magical (at least I believe so). However, it is a reminder of what we do in our world every day: finding purpose.

Have a lovely weekend, and a thoughtful Filthy Friday.

We continue this week with another chapter in the "Of the year" series. Within, we see how the festivities culminates, and if all is going according to plan.

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Sweet memories. What I base my knowledge on, what I base everything on. Everything that colours and warps my perspective, found somewhere in a secluded or pronounced cloud of colours, locations and faces. Without those, there is nothing. There is no path to walk, if I lack the context for walking. But looking back, were I able to see it all, I could surmise where I am going.
In a sense, my past is the map to my future.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

The world is so big, from where were are standing. It stretches out forever, eventually back into itself, though that is far beyond the reach of our sight and comprehension. Instead we stay at the bottom, as an insect peering up at a tower without end. And yet from the top of the tower, soaring above the world, it becomes tiny. A little blue dot, looking up at the vastness of cosmos.
At least the insect can fly for a better view.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Above me rests the sky, and ahead stands a glacier. Am impregnable wall of nature's marble, sailing along at a minuscule pace towards the inevitable. I give it no thought, and stare above once more. Each breath it moves closer, each beat of my heart chokes on worry, and yet my eyes avert towards the serene and beautiful. It will take ages for it to arrive, I tell myself, despite the ice in my lungs. I can mange anything, I claim, with knuckles frozen to ice cubes. And should, against all better

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It takes a long while to process a moment thoroughly, we pass through so many that there is little we can absorb. But when I pause, and consider, every moment is worth so much discussion, so much depiction, so much attention. And yet we leave most of them be.
Terrifying to think, of all those unappreciated out there.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

At certain moments, we wish we could go back, to experience life from a new angle, to take a peek into what was. OR perhaps, to simply slow down our perception, to see what was around us. Those shining little moments of reality that linger in the back of our mind on days bereft of the moments we cannot point to on a map. At those moments, one wishes they could slice time in half, to halt the beginning and end, for but a snapshot of the majesty of one... single.... instant.

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In times where we face ourselves, there is little to exchange. One would believe we have much to say of our own being, yet to ourselves, all is there. All is not known, yet knowing oneself is a sisyphean task, for the process of learning, too, changes our being. Then, instead of talking with ourselves, we merely talk at ourselves, at what we cannot affect grasp, yet our actions can influence, as it always does.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Sometimes I forget how much of our world is run by our own creations. And how much distance that creates between people. A system can handle baseline tasks better than humans, but it can only process numbers, compared to knowing how those numbers feel, understand how one number 2 is different from another 2. But it does everything else with so much efficiency, we consider only that. It becomes worth it.
The rest we can patch up, best we can, and we will have to do so, more and more...

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Inside is warm.
Outside is cold.
When I brave the outside, I dress accordingly. At times I only find my gloves and jacket, at times I dress up too much, but I can always anticipate the cold that is to come.
Unless the cold invites itself inside. Where my fingers freeze before I find gloves, where my toes are ice cubes before I walk to close the door, where my teeth clatter and come to a stop.
So far I remain.
Though I have to fix that door.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

We have a new story coming up this week, and a follow up next week, time for another party.

Silence binds up, and can be a wondrous thing. A time oft neglected or forgotten, but a necessity to function. Yet, so many try to fill it constantly. Bombard themselves with noise, so as to never go a waking moment without it. Then again, perhaps there is no silence for those people. Whatever they hear when all else goes quiet, must be frightening.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.