Treading towards the end, watching the cobble of the path fall apart, but the rocks staple together beneath my feet, each step progressing as if nothing happened, as if everything was right. But then, before the fall, new pathways converge, cobble clatter together, and before I have a chance to look down, the path is the same as it ever was.
And so it will be, until that fateful day.

Happy new Year~.

How much longer will it take to complete this task?
How often do I think about that? How often is the question not, what am I doing? Why am I doing it? But: When am I done?
Yet, sometimes, for very few tasks, this melts away. Everything revolves around the what, how, and why. And in those rare moments, if the question of when comes up... the answer is the same: There is no after, there is only this.

Happy Filthy Friday~, and Happy Darkest night.

We have a new entry in the Lustbound Chronicle today, one that is technically out of order. A look into what the future might hold for the stallion of the hour~.

Precipice of action, a weight towards stagnation and an abyss of possibility. Picking specks of sand from the broken hourglass suspended above me.
Picking, picking, picking.
The same grain appears again, again, again.
it calls, more friends come ticking.
And the balance continues ever onwards.

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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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~.

I prefer to measure success against myself, rather than others. That way, it ensures that I am evaluating my own abilities and growth, rather than the hum of our species pooled talent.

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Closure is, perhaps, only a word.
One which is brought up and spoken to highly,
for the merits it provide is lauded as the sole justice.
But in the end, closure brings little joy.
It is a word, that has to exist.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There is so much to do, and yet I choose to do nothing. It pains me not to work, and yet I leave it be. Days are fallen leaves, and autumn's clutches firm. Auburn crumbles through my fingers, the dust of time's allure.
Yet staring down will only fill the mind with a carpet of tree's veil, but looking up gives me a chance, to catch one by the tail.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Relief is said to come when you alleviate your ties, the tension eases and your mind unwinds. Perhaps that is so, but were I to listen, I would relinquish all that my mind is tied to. If I untie one know, who is to say it won't undo them all? And if not, who's the say the next knot won't? Or the next? Or the next?

Perhaps I have already sunken too deep. Perhaps I have made it unattainable to myself, perhaps it doesn't matter.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Time goes by too quickly, and time speeds by to fast, while I sit back into my couch and pack on cushion ass.
Light now withdrawing, and nights growing... roaming, that could have been anything.
You just, have to keep out of its sight.
As long as you stay moving, you fade from its bright. So do not just stand there, with robe unveiled, while there is lot else worth exploring.

Happy nightmare night~.