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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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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There are few's judgement which affects me more than my own. In the moment, that feels odd to claim. To some extent, the judgement imposed on me from others shapes the person that I am, to whatever extent I deem to listen to it. Though, that is just it, isn't it? In the end I am arbiter of my own judgement, of what I take to heart. What sticks. In addition, it is responsible for how I weigh my own shortcomings, and how long they remain, and remind. I have the greatest effect on myself, for in

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How much excitement is your time worth? If an experience brought you less excitement than it has done in the past, is it worth less to you? What if you did it with someone else? How much is their excitement, worth in terms of your time? Had you spent your resources elsewhere, and gained further satisfaction and excitement alone, was your time better spent? Each other person, surely does the same, so should each care only for their own investments?

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Long nights and cool stars, the sounds of road frogs croaking, time passes us by and through it we venture. Some steps you have cherish, the ones you enjoyed the most, for their mark on you is fleeting, and on the road even more so.
It is the memory that entertains the goodwill of those steps, even if by time the memories erode and reshape. It does not matter if the step you remember were in reality as great as you conceived, all that matters is what it means to you.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

What trouble us can easily stack up, and when you have your gaze aimed forwards, you miss the luggage which weigh you down. However, many of us know it is there, we simply tell ourselves that we can handle it.
For some weights this is true, but if we use the excuse enough, soon we pick up and carry everything, unable to leave any worries behind us.
Acknowledge your weights, and they can be lifted.

Wish you all a Fun Filthy Friday~.

An oknytt stands by the edge of your door, an ear lent to hear the building speak, it sees the lone light through the glass pane, a flicker that means ill.
An oknytt through the gaps does soar, the untended flame it seeks, once found extinguished by a slap of its winding tail, a silent sigh as all fall still.
An oknytt wanders through the rooms, observing the slumbering gathering, spent it reckons.
An oknytt, satisfied, departs to snowy looms, Wanders homewards, through starlight's beckons.

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