Days pass as footsteps, the prints on the road below us, those we never get to see, which we never experience fully. Each step precedes another, always a focus on the new, yet all we see of the days are the diffuse outlines we entertain within our recollection. Even if we were to turn, the past of the road is shrouded, cast in dusk of neglect. Yet, many spends their days marveling at this very abyss, while others could care less, for the road is unending, and there are always more steps to be

Read More

What is dance? A celebration of life and togetherness? A gesture to the elements? A distraction? It functions this way, as many tasks do. The practitioner is engulfed in the act, disappearing into their focus. At the same time, they rob the focus from the watcher, interlocking them in a chain of distractive influence, allowing the world around them to fade away. To dance then, is meaningless.
However, the first interpretation was right on the money.

Read More

Today comes the first of a 2 parter, a treacherously lewd and filthy combat contest between griffons. You could say it is a cockfight. With slightly higher stakes, and more actual cocks.

Why. Because?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Today we have a warm, comfortable tale brewing, one only coming round every once in a while. To cherish and care and for.

What is lost won't leave our side. Transient encounters leave n impact, and what we attribute a short length in reality has sown its root within our minds and beings long before. Some see clouds of greed, othes see a flurry of opportunity.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

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.

Read More

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.

Read More

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

Read More

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 ___!"

Read More

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.

Read More

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.

Read More

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.

Read More

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

Read More

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~.