• Member Since 10th Jun, 2013
  • offline last seen Jan 10th, 2021


Just a pony being fabulous. Writer of vignettes, clop, experiments, a great deal of trash and the occasional gem


Here and back again · 10:07pm Dec 16th, 2020

Things are rough my darlings.

Its a cold, rainy morning. My favorite kind. No snow. No slush. I adore this. Even more so that I am under a heavy quilt.

I'll write more when I wake up I think...

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Workin' It

One day....One day darlings...

1: Write a story with over 10 likes.
2: Write a story with over 100 likes.
3: Write a story with over 1000 likes.
4: Write more porn
5: Collab with Neon Lights on a story about Him and Mixtape
6: Write a popular story about Diamond Dancer with more than 10 likes
7: Write a popular story about Diamond Dancer with more than 100 likes
8: Write a story and edit it to perfection yourself.
10: Realize you actually might be a decent writer and actually start a book.
11: Realize you actually need more confidence to get that to happen.
12: Write something to get favorite authors to watch me (Or at least notice me) in hopes of a confidence booster
13: Learn valuable lesson within 30 minutes (22 with commercial breaks) about trusting myself, and not requiring the approval of others for confidence.
14: Write 10 stories
15: Write 100 stories
16: Clear my Queue of stories I've started and never finished.
17: Pay more attention to writing style. Less misplaced punctuation.
18: Make more friends.

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I... I dont know really what to say.

You were a delight to talk with, unbridled warmth just flowed from your personality. You were a good friend to me, your character was indeed something special and unique. I'm delighted you shared her with me, I'm truly sorry to hear you're gone.

I pray you find peace, that you're warmth continues to shine down upon the world. You were a good person, that's all i can say...but i belive might just be enough.

May we meet again one day, to share another delightful conversation.

Bye my friend.

I never knew you'd passed. I wish I'd known.

Even if I barely knew you, and we didn't get on in the best way privately... I will miss you.

Hey Soul Sister,

It's been a while since I've written to you like this for help. I don't suppose there's much help that you can do for me now. But the truth is that when we go to someone for help, it's the talking to them that does the trick. Some people allow you to talk a certain way. You were always so open and caring and accepting. I didn't have to be anything to you.

I think that carries on to death. That what you were people when you were alive, carries on, even though you're gone. I can only write this way when I'm talking to you. I couldn't ever speak like this to myself. It's because you allow me to be this way. You, being you, allowed me to be this me.

Little confusing, right?

I wanted to let you know that I'm going to quit my job soon; I'm going to do it as respectfully as I can. AiDs and I have this crackshot idea that if we write a lot for various sites that, maybe, we can finally make something ourselves as writers. I've never really taken such a risk before in my life. It's not too much of a risk. I'll be okay for a month or so before I would have to go looking for work again. There's a chance I could score a job worse than the one I have—but that's just a chance that I'll have to take.

But a part of me really hopes it works out or, at the very least, works out well enough to give the promise of potential. We could write our hearts out and have it tank. In truth—the idea is a little foolish. But this idea of mine, I've held it for nearly ten years. The other stuff is written so I have backups in case it fails. But this idea is something that I spent a lot of time building and caring for.

The truth of the matter is that I don't have much more left in me when it comes to my job, to the world around me. I'd always felt that, even though I'm not much good at it, that writing would be the thing to save me. Save me from the lack of a future, and the being stuck of where I currently am. I'm always afaird of that quote. "That which looks like distant hope... will lead you to despair."

But you have to take chances in this life. To risk going all in to see what happens. I'll be hurt and sore if I invest myself and come out with nothing. But at least I can be sure, once and for all, that I'll need to find something else in this life to make a living from.

But I more so wanted to write a letter to you because I miss you. Because I'm forgetting about you. That life is going by far too fast, and I've been dealing with so much that I rarely get the chance to think or reflect about you. I'm sure if I read our messages or your stuff, that you would come alive for me again. A few friends have returned in my life, those who felt dead and distant in my head for the longest time, but feel close and real once more.

I hope the same happens when I'm able to visit you again.

I've come to learn it's the connections we form is what causes us to feel alive. That our friendship is what caused me to feel unique, special, where the rest of the world barely even sees me as a drone. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have felt like a younger brother, or known that I had this side to me. This is all selfish talk about myself, I know. You taught me a lot, and there was much about you that I loved.

The problem is that, once someone dies, there's less that you can ask them about.

I miss you, Soul Sister.

I wish we lived in a world where none had to die, where we all expand to beyond the stars, and we create marvellous things to ensure life is something is worth living. But I supposed humanity needs a reset. That by a hundred, we would learn all the morals and stories, progressed as far as someone could, and have nothing else after that. There's a lot of bored millionaires out there.

I don't wished you to have lived forever.

But I do wish that you lived a little longer.

Keep well, Soul Sister.

People still miss you.
~ Yr. Soul Sibling, B

It's been a year since you've left us, Soul Sister.

I haven't used that line in a while. A long, long while. It felt dusted and fake when I started using it again. It's almost as if your death had slipped into the state of an online friend that's faded from one's life. I'm still unsure of what you were to me. How much of a right to what extent I was allowed to feel and mourn for your passing. Close friends have more of a right than people who had drifted.

But that's a shallowly logical way to look at it.

It's weird to think that I drowned myself in Rundown 4 of GTFO when you died; I also got rid of a lot of people, and was by myself for a while. Your death inspired me to do better, to work harder, to work more—because you never know when the next word might be your last. I pushed forward but than burned out. I tried being good but wound up being myself again.

And as I write this a year later, in a drastically different place than I was when it had begun, I wonder how much I've actually changed.

But the truth is that I miss you. That I still care for you. That I read your stories and, when it comes time to become immersed in you again, that I'll feel as strongly about you as I did before. Death is like falling out of touch with a friend. You feel it strongly for months and, after those months, the strength starts to fade. The trials of daily life take their place.

Sometimes you drift to that friend in thought and conversation. Other times, something causes you to revisit your memories of them. Reading old messages and remembering the links that chain a friendship. Once you become immersed in all that you have forgotten, the feelings return strongly, if only for a little, until they are fated to fade.

But you always lurk in my consciousness. You're a subconscious force and perhaps a reason behind some of my few goodnesses. It sucks that you're not here in the world. It sucks that you're no longer writing. I enjoyed your writing. I enjoyed your characters and dialogue and stories. You wrote macro and micro far better than I could better hope. And I wonder if the world would profit more if you were here writing instead of me.

But, in the end, we're forced to be ourselves, and make the best out of whoever that is.

I hope you're well, somehow.

Later, Soul Sister.
~ Yr. Soul Sibling, B

B_25 #220 · Nov 3rd, 2021 · · 2 ·

Be well, Soul Sister.
~ Yr. Pal, B

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