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~.

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.

Read More

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~.

Hello, everypony. It would be really nice if a few of you joined one of my first groups that I joined, Princess Luna Fans! Thank you all, every pony!
-My Sister Tia

As close as you want it to be, you cannot create ten artworks without one being dis-satisfactory. You cannot say a hundred sentences without being unsatisfied with one. For some the ratio is slanted in or against their favour. Perhaps half your sentences come out garbled, or perhaps only 1 in 10 artworks becomes something you are proud of.
So then, the more you try, the more results you will achieve.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Hidden at the edge of society, along the road to a field, follow the path beyond the premises, and cross the water on the ancient bridge. There, in a hidden house, packed under the worry of clothes, something lies waiting, something without a home.

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...

Read More

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~.

Read it here!

Read More

I can emulate a sense of home, but only to the eye of my mind. The most potent medium to craft and recollect the past, could craft the uttermost detailed and spectacular view of that nostalgia from my past. And yet it is also what will stop me from ever reaching the past, because it lets me know it isn't real.

Happy First Filthy Friday of the year~.

Times appears to move slower when there is nothing to spend it on. An observation made my many, though why? is it a phenomenon of coincidence, or or deliberation. Perhaps it is far more distant and ethereal. For you see, time as we perceive it exists only when we measure it. Until we observe it, its existence remains in flux, or perhaps entirely in-existent.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Greetings, and welcome to Filthy Friday~.

Today we have a tale that has been marinating and brewing for a while, ready to pounce when you least expect it... A situation the story's protagonist is all too familiar with, as it turns out his step mother is a-...

Commission slot Status:
The queue is still full. If you have interest in a commission, follow this blog to get weekly updates. Or send me a private message.

Spotlight Friday~

Read More

It's here.

New chapters will be posted as they happen.

Buckle up kids, because no one gets off Ms. Dash's Wild Ride.

At times I remember how out of phase I am. It can come as a shock, though it rarely arrives. Once I have lived under a rock for enough time, I stop consider what lies beyond the rock, or see it as merely an extension of its solidity; Shadows on walls of granite.
Repressed, but known, there is always something casting the shadow.

If you finished reading Secondhand Laughter, then you're probably wondering what's next? Or maybe you're not. Maybe you read it and you're about ready for me to stop writing.

Well, this blog post has something to make either of you happy.

Read More

Long we await, in times passing where not experienced. I would dread, turning back on my road, and getting a glimpse of my footprints, seeing how many of them were spent in the emptiness of unaction. Yet, it is with these moment we can create, express, and live. Without them, there would be no live. Without negative space, there is no road.

Wishing you all a Happy Filthy Friday~.