Sometimes days take too long to process. And I start going over it in my head again and again, until it is long into the next day, and there is even more to digest. Eventually there is so much I power down, and reset to a blank slate to catch up with myself. But then it happens again.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Once devoted, now deceased. And yet devotion outlives the devoted, as it does the cause. There is safety in the sensation, the belief of purpose and belonging, stronger than that of words or motivation.
It forges and tempers effort, though has long since lost the control over its subjects.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

I like today's story. It has a buffalo in it.
And was part of an early Pony Vore art pack, which is now made available.

Loss can take away more than what was ever there, a it makes you see what was always there, and how much more of it you could be bereft of. It feels like nothing can add to what was erased. And in a way it true. You can only fit so much through a square hole.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There are some people with which there is no compromise. Your reason or logic incompatible with theirs. Where every word lies upon a golsilver scale, and as soon as it begins to tip against them, they accuse you. At times, I have to remind myself, of how much I a relationshi weighs on me, and if I should leave the scale unattended, to gather dust.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Passion demands sacrifice. Sacrifice which makes itself known in time, investments, or devotion. They are core to passion, for passion is not static, passion exists in the moment it is paid tribute to.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Thoughts malign affect those close,
expression wry and worries rose.
Infectious is the thought of ill,
inviting by mystery and promise of thrill.
Soon one thought has turned for the worst,
and the subject in question, afflicted and cursed.

Wishing you all a Happy Filthy Friday~.

I don't like measuring my progress in years, because it starts to feel too short, a year is such a large span of time, we have a double digit of them in a life, and to think I spent so much of that without a clear purpose, is scary. Thankfully, it is easier to forget than to think.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Will a scrape heal has it still a scab? Certainly so. The scab can shield the wounded area as it mends. And yet, scabs have a ceratin odd air to them, and many rather have it removed. Without the scab, a scrape still heals. At times exposure to the outside elements is what mends, in others the clear seclusion protects. It depends how deep the issues go.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There was a little circuit man,
Welded from the scraps of cards.
They built up themselves as a handy man,
Improving to escape the junkyard.

But all time spent upgrading,
oblivious to his trading,
the times which he could cherish,
for the date to which he'd perish.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Where does everything go when there is too much of it?
Some articles of life appears easier to ignore the larger of a quantity there is. Perhaps it relates to the forest, stocked with trees and yet we rarely pay attention to particular trunks. Would then the best way to ignore something, to expose yourself to it, until it was no longer part of your conscious intake?
Perhaps that is a way addiction starts.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Keep on the lookout for a new artpack.

Pony month was casual fun. There will still be pony content, especially when it is commissioned.
I have gone back to look through several stories, and each time I see someone sharing their joy about my stories, I feel that much happier to continue writing.

~ ~ ~

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When do trees become a forest? Can we put it to a number? Perhaps it i when they stop being individuals and start to become a pattern. Patterns we intersexual, we interpret, we match and decipher, though we just as easily look past it. When the chaos grows too strong, we ignore it.
Until such a time, we find ourselves lost in a forest, unable to recall the trees we passed on the way in.

Happy clean Filthy Friday~.

Once I asked where the wind blow, where it carries its call and force through the lands and across the sea, where it leads the currents of air that brush through my hair. Though as I grew, I realized that there is nowhere the wind blows, but one continuous wind, there is no destination, there is just a pattern, a whole o be acknowledged.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

It arrived on my doorstep a few nights ago. I have yet to touch it, yet to acknowledge. It is easier for me to let it lie, let all take its course, to step around the threshold when I am needed outside. Or, to simply stay home, to stay away from the world it came from. Perhaps it is best to leave it be.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

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~.

Wayward soul who seeks solace, find your way to me, find your way through cold and sorrows, find your way to me. Find your way through dreadful waters, find your way to me.
Find the path that few have tread, find your way to me. Find your way through your own strength, find your way to me. Find companions to share the journey, find your way to me.
And if your weary bones should waiver, find your way to thé.

Happy 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~.

Always comfortable to know that I have access to the backdoor. That whatever dreadful occasions take place in the bow, there remains an alternative, a space of safety to indulge in when all goes poorly. As long as I don't lose the key, that is.

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~.