Time slows, the seat carries us upwards towards the stars, past the vail of grease that swathes the heaven in clouds and into the stuffed nothingness. Here there is peace. For a moment, there is respite and relaxation. Imagination, the place of escape, the place we dare thread, away from our own existance. Yet, imagination is branded with more than just escape. It is where our lives lead, it is where we envision the path.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Duality. Such is the way of perception. We perceive the world according to our own perspective, tailored by thoughts, emotions, and experiences. Our way of viewing is our own alone, and with others we craft shared viewing. Two people seeing an art piece experience two different sensation. Yet, as soon as they discuss and share, they can form a common ground. Which is then, the correct way to view the world? Or do we see in numerous ways, and become selective in the ones which we follow?

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Will I spiral into nothingness, were I to find the depths of the mind? Beyond the drain of thought and sanity, a veil immeasurable and insignificant. There are those who claim to have seen before it, some for a cause, some without. But how much does one have to believe, to claim the unknowable for no purpose other than an unachievable self satisfaction?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Fun little Pinkie Story to come today~.
Be on the lookout in your gardens.

When the darkest nights are coming, when the sun breathes a sigh of relief,
how the spirits are ever longing, though their visit might be brief.
Masks are brought and placed upon, ripped from many mannequin,
they take the streets to roam thereon, the mask unveiling what's therein.
all year they play a masquerade, until late in fall they're free,

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When we let our mind wander, is it taking its own journey?
Considering how it steers us down the path of the conscious, is it then free when we allow it to saunter as it pleases? Or is the lack of connection and influence eon the rest of our body in fact depriving our mind of its impact in our lives? Is it locked in a cage of its own design?
If so, it is quite a relaxing experience, to be caged in yourself.

Happy Clean Friday~.

Whether it comes by bird, post, smoke, sound, or light, all communication is tainted by people. Both directions, in every exchange, recipient and orator engaging in a melding of perspectives, a filter unique to not only each individual, but each exchange. Time and effort is required to clarify ideas between the parties. That is to say, if each party does not intend to influence the other...

Happy Filthy Friday~.

We have a new story today, one of Princess Celestia Indulging in a Taboo feast, and later paying the price.

Choice is a powerful concept, it implies a certainty of power, in what lies behind the right choice. If I am offered choice, and I choose to do nothing, it is powerful. It lets me have a kind of peace, it puts me in a spot where I have something I can do, I am wanted, and I choose to do nothing. Resting, while you are wanted, it a delicacy.

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I have a lot of little things, it is how i keep myself occupied:
Wherever my eye lands there is a place of intrigue, of comfort, of stimulation,
and it gives me no hope to rest.
I have a lot of little things, It is how I keep my memory intact:
Each object imbued with energy, past experiences and emotions that remain through time,
and it lets my mind wander forever.
I have a lot of little things, it is how I judge my value:

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The chase makes the prize all the sweeter, but perhaps even the chase itself is what some people seek, the thrill and joy of locomotion and action. This locomotion, is all that keeps the path going, in the end. Some chose to embrace it.
Some Choo choo choose it.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Prisms reflect the skies ahead, marking shards of possibility through the the darkness. The streak through the canvas of creation, falling towards the abyss. In its moment of fall, the dreams turn tangible, moments before impact, closest to the hands wishing to hold them close, the desire to believe. A transient visit from the ethereal, and even among those who try, few grasp these shards, and those that do might hold so hard it rends their hands.

Happy Filthy Friday~

Worry melts away with time, when we realise there is no one who knows the ins and outs of everything. The most comfortable plunge off of a cliff, is the one of accepting the world bigger than any person can fathom. Made comforting, by the fact, that you join everyone in the fall.

Happy Filthy Friday~

There are too many ethereal wasps drilling through my head to process what you just said? Could you take it from the top? You said something about a warning not adhered to? I am uncertain what the bull squid would have to say about that.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

To split a worm I have done it a disservice. Though some consider it a boon. A worm should function still, with all its necessities nested along the body. So, who is to say that cleaving it caused the worm any misfortune?
Shared joy is joy doubled. Shared sorrow is sorrow halved.
Yet the worm, is no more.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Wash your hands for 30 seconds.

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Reclined, relaxed, with the world floating by outside the window, the safety of dullness, of oblivious meandering through thoughtscapes and mirage. Lacking in excitement, though one is cursed to live in interesting time.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There is no time.

Wish you all a filthy week in the great pastures of FIm~.

Results are often the boring part of an endeavor: they signify an end. The culmination of work, time, effort, and planning. Yet, once you arrive at the results it is over. What do you do next? Listen to the world provide you feedback? What for? So you can begin your next journey towards a result.
Another Journey.
Another Wait.
Another one.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

We bounce, between the real and the unreal, between the worlds nourished by unconcsious and those fed the impressions we decypher from the world at large. Clockworks threading towards their chime, is never heard. Every other tick, is mystery, every other tock, is waking. A blend of the natural and unreal. Yet, to a clock, all seconds chime the same.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Tens of times have we met on the road,
each time we averted our gaze,
who has eyes for those going backwards?

Wish you a Happy Filthy Friday.

Life is not a road. It is not a linear path to travel down, despite an uncountable myriad possibilities lay nestled between each edge of the path. We do not walk the road, we have been to every part of it, and yet experiencing it for the first time. We craft our own understating of reality through the lens of our ones perspective, a perspective molded by ourselves, and tinted by communion, relations, experiencing, the collective minds blotting out enough of the world that the negative space

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