German for "over stallion," and a reference to Nietzsche's "Übermensch," /üb/ - Überhengst is about bettering yourself physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. It is about self-improvement, constructive self-reflection, and seeking advice from others. You may discuss here those personal hobbies through which you develop your creative energies, and the efforts you take to improve your talents, artistic and otherwise. And of course, this is a board for fitness and literature, as they are parts of the backbone of physical and mental wellness. This is also a board where we may discuss Western culture - history, literature, architecture, and philosophy - as when imbibed, culture improves the mind and spirit, sharpening mental faculties, and providing a greater connection to those around you and to civilizations millennia old.
As this is a self-improvement board, discussions of personal problems should be constructive. No wallowing in self-pity. We are here to become better, and while seeking company in misery may be a helpful part of the process, the process does not end there.
Enjoy!
/ub/ - Überhengst
Becoming better
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When you see this thread, do five push ups.
if busy do ten later
if busy do ten later
317 replies and 98 files omitted.
>>8462
You thought it was a joke?
>I have my own routine, which I never deviate from
Fine, be a bitch. 5 more
You thought it was a joke?
>I have my own routine, which I never deviate from
Fine, be a bitch. 5 more
>>8463
Oh no, I deviate from it. I'm always trying to experiment with adjustments and push my limits (as much as I can without interfering with my work). I just don't take prompts from internet autists.
Oh no, I deviate from it. I'm always trying to experiment with adjustments and push my limits (as much as I can without interfering with my work). I just don't take prompts from internet autists.
>>8464
You clearly do, because you opted to engage. Whether you're sporting enough to play along with the thread concept is beyond my concern
You clearly do, because you opted to engage. Whether you're sporting enough to play along with the thread concept is beyond my concern
Today was gym day but I can't say no to this thread
99 replies and 64 files omitted.
>>8979
Very much puts me in mind of this piece
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yaxRl3He7xg
"Woe to the People of Order"
Very much puts me in mind of this piece
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yaxRl3He7xg
"Woe to the People of Order"
Anonymous
No.9103
Anonymous
No.9127
I'm going to do something crazy and make an offer for anons looking to improve. I have 2 bedrooms available $400 a month all bills included. I'm an hour from Chicago and I have workshop in my basement. The house is located in coon town but if you don't go looking for trouble you won't find it. My goal is to help other anons get on their feet. I am pretty good science and math tutor so if you want to go to university I can help with STEM subjects.
This thread is for those who have successfully escaped the system or plan to escape the system with a homestead. Where would you build? How would you make money? How would you get food, power, and water? Is it more feasible to do it alone or with frens?
16 replies and 5 files omitted.
>>9089
i think an rv or something wouldn’t be bad to get started, i dont see the need for needing to hand make a hut to start. my barns could be built up over time but id like somewhere structured to live at first
i think an rv or something wouldn’t be bad to get started, i dont see the need for needing to hand make a hut to start. my barns could be built up over time but id like somewhere structured to live at first
What kind of businesses could work for a homestead. Obviously farming, but what are some other ways to make money off grid?
>>9109
Really anything that would work from an on-grid property that didn't require heeps of electricity. It also depends on your off-grid property's location relative to on-grid customers, because naturally you'd need customers and a handful of far-spread offgridders are probably just going to supply themselves with necessities. This is why the first ticket to becoming self-sustained off the grid is having the ability to make money by offering a service independent of whatever house you may live in. A trade you can operate out of a van to drive to clientele.
As for ways to make money that benefits from being far away from prying eyes, brewing and distilling is the first thing that comes to mind. While still technically farming, growing bait and live feed doesn't take a lot of space. Hell, breed dogs if you have the stomach for it. Also honey:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ItlOFLTUAs
Really anything that would work from an on-grid property that didn't require heeps of electricity. It also depends on your off-grid property's location relative to on-grid customers, because naturally you'd need customers and a handful of far-spread offgridders are probably just going to supply themselves with necessities. This is why the first ticket to becoming self-sustained off the grid is having the ability to make money by offering a service independent of whatever house you may live in. A trade you can operate out of a van to drive to clientele.
As for ways to make money that benefits from being far away from prying eyes, brewing and distilling is the first thing that comes to mind. While still technically farming, growing bait and live feed doesn't take a lot of space. Hell, breed dogs if you have the stomach for it. Also honey:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ItlOFLTUAs
Use this thread to post important questions to ask yourself.
So few people stop to actually question things. Fewer spend time to develop their own answers for themselves. The answers will always be different, but the questions steer our lives.
No answers please, just questions.
So few people stop to actually question things. Fewer spend time to develop their own answers for themselves. The answers will always be different, but the questions steer our lives.
No answers please, just questions.
1 replies and 0 files omitted.
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Why hasn't the media talked about Trump's border wall in so long?
What else are we forgetting about?
What else are we forgetting about?
What can I learn from this?
What are people missing? What have I missed?
What is being overlooked?
Is their ability to convey their idea being compromised by their ability to use the language effectively, if so how can I meet their idea halfway?
Is this a person who can be convinced by evidence, or are they married to their perspective?
What hasnt been attempted?
What is the best/worst possible outcome?
Has the opponent made their counter move yet?
What are people missing? What have I missed?
What is being overlooked?
Is their ability to convey their idea being compromised by their ability to use the language effectively, if so how can I meet their idea halfway?
Is this a person who can be convinced by evidence, or are they married to their perspective?
What hasnt been attempted?
What is the best/worst possible outcome?
Has the opponent made their counter move yet?
Is it Just that I put myself into a demoralising position so someone else might grow?
Why do I exist as this consciousness in this body and not in that body as a different consciousness?
One problem plaguing a lot of people these days, especially burgers like myself, is that many people eat out at restaurants too much instead of preparing home cooked meals. Eating out is frequently both more expensive and less healthy for you than a home cooked meal. Furthermore, many people live with a limited library of meals that they know how to prepare and don't realize the culinary possibilities that are right in front of them.
The purpose of this thread is to try to break that habit of eating out and to make cooking at home become the norm in our lives. Please share meal ideas and how to prepare them here. All meals are welcome, although preferably we should post meals that are easy to prepare so that novice cooks will not be intimidated by the prospect of preparing them for themselves. Even simple sandwiches are fair game. Sometimes that may mean cutting corners with pre-made mixes instead of preparing everything from scratch.
Remember that the goal isn't necessarily to post the most inexpensive meals or the healthiest meals, although those meals are certainly very welcome. The goal is to encourage people to dust off their kitchen appliances and flex their atrophied cooking muscles. I realize that this opens the door to culinary nightmares like /tg/'s infamous meat-bread, but so be it. Let's get cooking!
The purpose of this thread is to try to break that habit of eating out and to make cooking at home become the norm in our lives. Please share meal ideas and how to prepare them here. All meals are welcome, although preferably we should post meals that are easy to prepare so that novice cooks will not be intimidated by the prospect of preparing them for themselves. Even simple sandwiches are fair game. Sometimes that may mean cutting corners with pre-made mixes instead of preparing everything from scratch.
Remember that the goal isn't necessarily to post the most inexpensive meals or the healthiest meals, although those meals are certainly very welcome. The goal is to encourage people to dust off their kitchen appliances and flex their atrophied cooking muscles. I realize that this opens the door to culinary nightmares like /tg/'s infamous meat-bread, but so be it. Let's get cooking!
550 replies and 324 files omitted.
>>8988
>Store bought eggnog is in quart
Way too spendy. Also I can still find it in half-gallon most of the time.
About 15 years ago, maybe more, I looked back after the holiday season was over and realized I must have drank a dozen gallons of eggnog. Because they still sold them in gallon jugs and I was buying at least one every week and the "season" that year was a full three months, from mid-October through mid-January when I finally could no longer find any store that still had eggnog.
>Important thing about cooking is learning by experience, [...] Get messy and make mistakes
Yes.
>>8987
>and what is a quart?
You're a europoor? Google says a quart is 946.4ml
BBCmaestro suggests:
< One large egg weighs around 2 ounces (57 grams)
vs
< Jumbo egg: Roughly 2.5 ounces (71 grams)
good luck! Don't set anything on fire. Which should be especially difficult when mixing liquid (or salad)
>Store bought eggnog is in quart
Way too spendy. Also I can still find it in half-gallon most of the time.
About 15 years ago, maybe more, I looked back after the holiday season was over and realized I must have drank a dozen gallons of eggnog. Because they still sold them in gallon jugs and I was buying at least one every week and the "season" that year was a full three months, from mid-October through mid-January when I finally could no longer find any store that still had eggnog.
>Important thing about cooking is learning by experience, [...] Get messy and make mistakes
Yes.
>>8987
>and what is a quart?
You're a europoor? Google says a quart is 946.4ml
BBCmaestro suggests:
< One large egg weighs around 2 ounces (57 grams)
vs
< Jumbo egg: Roughly 2.5 ounces (71 grams)
good luck! Don't set anything on fire. Which should be especially difficult when mixing liquid (or salad)
>>8931
Possibly I am retarded, but isn't there a bit more to it than that? Like, cloves and allspice? Also, isn't homemade eggnog notoriously difficult to do right? The instructions tend to say things like:
"How to make eggnog:
Start by whisking the egg yolk and sugar together in a small bowl. Then, in a saucepan over medium-high heat, combine cream, milk, salt, and nutmeg and stir the mixture until it just reaches a simmer. Next temper the eggs by adding small spoonfuls of the hot mixture to the egg mixture.
Stir each spoonful and once most of the hot mixture has been added, add the entire mixture back to the saucepan. Continue cooking and whisking for just another minute or two until it barely thickens. It will continue to thicken as it cools. Then remove it from the heat and add the vanilla. Refrigerate the eggnog mixture until chilled.
We like to serve it with a some whipped cream and an extra little dash of cinnamon and nutmeg on top."
I am a cooking hobbyist. I have never tried to make eggnog, but when I read this, I have questions. Does the boiling liquid not instantly cook the egg mixture on contact and create hard little hockey pucks of cooked sugared egg yolk?
I have seen other egg yolk recipes where the egg and milk mixture was warmed slowly in a double boiler and you had to beat it violently with a wire whisk the whole time until it all came to a boil. This seems like a lot of work and very, very easy to get wrong.
But then I have never tried to make homemade eggnog. I know it's sacrilege, but I am not a fan and I actually don't make any kind of sweet stuff very often. When I was a kid I craved sugar. Now, not so much.
Possibly I am retarded, but isn't there a bit more to it than that? Like, cloves and allspice? Also, isn't homemade eggnog notoriously difficult to do right? The instructions tend to say things like:
"How to make eggnog:
Start by whisking the egg yolk and sugar together in a small bowl. Then, in a saucepan over medium-high heat, combine cream, milk, salt, and nutmeg and stir the mixture until it just reaches a simmer. Next temper the eggs by adding small spoonfuls of the hot mixture to the egg mixture.
Stir each spoonful and once most of the hot mixture has been added, add the entire mixture back to the saucepan. Continue cooking and whisking for just another minute or two until it barely thickens. It will continue to thicken as it cools. Then remove it from the heat and add the vanilla. Refrigerate the eggnog mixture until chilled.
We like to serve it with a some whipped cream and an extra little dash of cinnamon and nutmeg on top."
I am a cooking hobbyist. I have never tried to make eggnog, but when I read this, I have questions. Does the boiling liquid not instantly cook the egg mixture on contact and create hard little hockey pucks of cooked sugared egg yolk?
I have seen other egg yolk recipes where the egg and milk mixture was warmed slowly in a double boiler and you had to beat it violently with a wire whisk the whole time until it all came to a boil. This seems like a lot of work and very, very easy to get wrong.
But then I have never tried to make homemade eggnog. I know it's sacrilege, but I am not a fan and I actually don't make any kind of sweet stuff very often. When I was a kid I craved sugar. Now, not so much.
>>9019
>isn't there a bit more to it than that?
No.
>notoriously difficult?
no.
>Then, in a saucepan over medium-high heat
Okay what they're trying to do is 'pasteurizing' the raw eggs - which is unneeded.
Just wash the eggs first if you're worried about germs. The eggs have to be impermeable or the chick will die for being bathed in bird poop. Just wash the eggs first and there's no need for heating and you can stir it together with a large fork.
>I am a cooking hobbyist. I have never tried to make eggnog
Well, you don't cook eggnog.
>I am not a fan
This has been a lot of typing from you, when you don't want the advice or the food anyway.
Make the eggnog or don't. This thread isn't about complaining about how other people say they make food.
Yesterday I made what might get called bell-pepper gumbo.
Thawed a bag of what I thought was soup but it was only beef broth. So I bought a packet of udon noodles, a can of water chestnuts, two jalapenos, and a tray of maybe five bell peppers sliced up, and also a packet of kung-pao sauce mixture.
Threw it all in a pot and thought "I need meat" so I found a discounted pot-roast and cut that into tiny strips and browned in the air-fryer and threw it in too.
Soup was spicy, and tasty.
Stop overthinking things anon - mix the ingredients and eat/drink it!
>isn't there a bit more to it than that?
No.
>notoriously difficult?
no.
>Then, in a saucepan over medium-high heat
Okay what they're trying to do is 'pasteurizing' the raw eggs - which is unneeded.
Just wash the eggs first if you're worried about germs. The eggs have to be impermeable or the chick will die for being bathed in bird poop. Just wash the eggs first and there's no need for heating and you can stir it together with a large fork.
>I am a cooking hobbyist. I have never tried to make eggnog
Well, you don't cook eggnog.
>I am not a fan
This has been a lot of typing from you, when you don't want the advice or the food anyway.
Make the eggnog or don't. This thread isn't about complaining about how other people say they make food.
Yesterday I made what might get called bell-pepper gumbo.
Thawed a bag of what I thought was soup but it was only beef broth. So I bought a packet of udon noodles, a can of water chestnuts, two jalapenos, and a tray of maybe five bell peppers sliced up, and also a packet of kung-pao sauce mixture.
Threw it all in a pot and thought "I need meat" so I found a discounted pot-roast and cut that into tiny strips and browned in the air-fryer and threw it in too.
Soup was spicy, and tasty.
Stop overthinking things anon - mix the ingredients and eat/drink it!
>>9020
Eggs from different places have different levels of 'safety' and mishandling which increase food illness.
The health of the chickens are technically considered to prevent illness spreading.
Depending on country and location some eggs are washed or unwashed.
Unwashed come with the protective coating from the chicken that surrounds the egg meaning nothing is getting in however washing that off does matter.
Washed sometimes applies an industrial coat to 'preserve freshness' as such egg shells are semi-permiable and so is the outer layer of the egg most stuff can't get in or out, but is still able to 'breath' and do various gas exchanges.
>Tasty gumbo
Noice.
>>9019
Cooking is about making things more tasty, and more tasty means more safe to consume and still have the yummy nutrition.
Spices are anti-microbe it's part of why they taste nice and different.
Microbes need two things to survive, water and stuff to eat so most preserving methods are all about water content manipulation.
Spicing stuff tends to make stuff safer, it's why for example celantro is served raw as a garnish on dishes. It's anti-microbe things go away when cooking it.
The next and biggest thing is to purge the food of microbes via applied application of doing stuff to it.
Heat denatures proteins (building blocks) doing so to microbes makes most of them more retarted and helpless. If they can't do anything it's usually safe.
Freezing stuff makes the cell walls pop, if the insides are on the outsides they can't do anything. It's why frozen fish is 'sushi grade' because it's frozen making it extra safe.
Chemicals such as acids do the same thing as the two above, folding or breaking protein or breaking cell walls.
Drying removes water and if there's no water there's no life (usually). Modern ketchup has just enough not water stuff to be inedible to microbes, it's like a desert. It's why dried stuff keeps so long. Alchol isn't water but it's liquid.
>Gots to cooks da egg.
FDA has guidelines for retards and places that serve food.
>Why does egg not scramble?
In this case of wanting to cook the egg but also have it be liquid we need to do two things.
Denature (break down and change) the proteins of microbes.
Keep the egg's proteins from denaturing.
This like your pocket spaghetti is different lengths and shapes and most importantly that determines what happens when and how heat is applied.
Blast it with heat and you get scrambled egg or egg drop soup.
Slowly bring up the egg protein's temperature and it (mostly) won't fold. Yet the microbes are differently shaped and sized and they do denature.
Those techniques are to minimize time wasted doing the above.
Or you raise the temperature even more slowly and it just works.
Chuck everything in as is and heat up even slower. There's a problem with this though more time in 'comfortable' temperatures means microbes wake up and do what microbes do. Eat and replicate.
Which means longer cook times to ensure you get enough of them.
Biggest and most important part is (You).
People have immune systems are it fucks up just about every microbe that goes in. Unless it's got some real nasty stuff in it, such as typhoid. Typhoid Mary on why kitchen prep on washing your hands is important.
Or mix it all together and chug it easy peasy. Sure your egg might be the one in a million chance for you to get sperghetti-itius but then you'll be in some dude's video on sperghetti-itus.
Eggs from different places have different levels of 'safety' and mishandling which increase food illness.
The health of the chickens are technically considered to prevent illness spreading.
Depending on country and location some eggs are washed or unwashed.
Unwashed come with the protective coating from the chicken that surrounds the egg meaning nothing is getting in however washing that off does matter.
Washed sometimes applies an industrial coat to 'preserve freshness' as such egg shells are semi-permiable and so is the outer layer of the egg most stuff can't get in or out, but is still able to 'breath' and do various gas exchanges.
>Tasty gumbo
Noice.
>>9019
Cooking is about making things more tasty, and more tasty means more safe to consume and still have the yummy nutrition.
Spices are anti-microbe it's part of why they taste nice and different.
Microbes need two things to survive, water and stuff to eat so most preserving methods are all about water content manipulation.
Spicing stuff tends to make stuff safer, it's why for example celantro is served raw as a garnish on dishes. It's anti-microbe things go away when cooking it.
The next and biggest thing is to purge the food of microbes via applied application of doing stuff to it.
Heat denatures proteins (building blocks) doing so to microbes makes most of them more retarted and helpless. If they can't do anything it's usually safe.
Freezing stuff makes the cell walls pop, if the insides are on the outsides they can't do anything. It's why frozen fish is 'sushi grade' because it's frozen making it extra safe.
Chemicals such as acids do the same thing as the two above, folding or breaking protein or breaking cell walls.
Drying removes water and if there's no water there's no life (usually). Modern ketchup has just enough not water stuff to be inedible to microbes, it's like a desert. It's why dried stuff keeps so long. Alchol isn't water but it's liquid.
>Gots to cooks da egg.
FDA has guidelines for retards and places that serve food.
>Why does egg not scramble?
In this case of wanting to cook the egg but also have it be liquid we need to do two things.
Denature (break down and change) the proteins of microbes.
Keep the egg's proteins from denaturing.
This like your pocket spaghetti is different lengths and shapes and most importantly that determines what happens when and how heat is applied.
Blast it with heat and you get scrambled egg or egg drop soup.
Slowly bring up the egg protein's temperature and it (mostly) won't fold. Yet the microbes are differently shaped and sized and they do denature.
Those techniques are to minimize time wasted doing the above.
Or you raise the temperature even more slowly and it just works.
Chuck everything in as is and heat up even slower. There's a problem with this though more time in 'comfortable' temperatures means microbes wake up and do what microbes do. Eat and replicate.
Which means longer cook times to ensure you get enough of them.
Biggest and most important part is (You).
People have immune systems are it fucks up just about every microbe that goes in. Unless it's got some real nasty stuff in it, such as typhoid. Typhoid Mary on why kitchen prep on washing your hands is important.
Or mix it all together and chug it easy peasy. Sure your egg might be the one in a million chance for you to get sperghetti-itius but then you'll be in some dude's video on sperghetti-itus.
>violent shaking
https://youtu.be/3BN9pTtACSc?si=cehcx0W6aOxIFCRj&t=1000
This nigger... threw away 18-hour barky/smoky pork fat and drippings...
https://youtu.be/pKkHxAZgFAM?si=wcxNP3Mo8L0rmwJ5&t=59
https://youtu.be/3BN9pTtACSc?si=cehcx0W6aOxIFCRj&t=1000
This nigger... threw away 18-hour barky/smoky pork fat and drippings...
https://youtu.be/pKkHxAZgFAM?si=wcxNP3Mo8L0rmwJ5&t=59
The secret to canned meats is cooking in milk/cream.
The goal is to substitute the dry water voids in the meat with the not-water stuff in the milk.
Once the liquid is gone and you just have the cooked canned food it should be tender and moist to the pallet. You can keep cooking it to brown it if desired.
I suggest flavoring it as well.
The goal is to substitute the dry water voids in the meat with the not-water stuff in the milk.
Once the liquid is gone and you just have the cooked canned food it should be tender and moist to the pallet. You can keep cooking it to brown it if desired.
I suggest flavoring it as well.
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I made this thread for myself, however, you can still use it. This is where I'm gonna put all my random ideas for stories and write them down.
Essentially, my wish is to fill this thread with a bunch of excerpts from different story ideas I have in one place.
I may even post my planning of stories and other random ideas for how to improve my writing process.
So feel free to share you own excerpts of stories, writing advice, or general ideas for stories here if you feel like, otherwise I'll fill this hopefully with my own stuff.
Essentially, my wish is to fill this thread with a bunch of excerpts from different story ideas I have in one place.
I may even post my planning of stories and other random ideas for how to improve my writing process.
So feel free to share you own excerpts of stories, writing advice, or general ideas for stories here if you feel like, otherwise I'll fill this hopefully with my own stuff.
134 replies and 124 files omitted.
>>8595
Under the soft glow of the moon, the party venue shone like a beacon of hope and happiness amidst the quiet of the night. Pinkie Pie, her mane now peppered with streaks of glitter and frosting, moved around the space with a gentle grace, far removed from her usual effervescent bounce. Each step was measured, each decoration placed with a silent wish that it would bring a smile to her friends' faces.
As she hung the last of the handmade streamers, a sigh escaped her lips—a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. Her eyes, reflecting the twinkling lights she'd strung up around the room, drifted to the empty space that would soon, hopefully, be filled with laughter and chatter. In that quiet moment, memories flooded in, each one a precious reminder of the bonds she cherished.
She remembered the laughter that filled the air during their impromptu picnic at Sweet Apple Acres, the warmth of the hugs shared after a successful fashion show at Rarity's boutique, the thrill of adventure from their last-minute trip to the Crystal Empire. Each memory was a snapshot of joy, a testament to the love and friendship that tied their lives together.
With every recollection, her resolve to make this party perfect only grew stronger. "This is more than just a party," Pinkie whispered to herself, her heart swelling with the love she felt for her friends. "It's a 'thank you' for every smile, every hug, and every moment that we've shared."
The final touch was a small, but special addition—a photo booth corner with props and backdrops for capturing the night's memories. "Because every party should be remembered," she thought, a playful grin spreading across her face as she pictured her friends striking silly poses.
Despite the fatigue that clung to her like a persistent shadow, Pinkie Pie's spirit was undeterred. As she looked over her handiwork, her heart hummed with a hopeful melody, one that whispered of reunions and new memories yet to be made. Tonight, she thought, would be a night where the magic of friendship shone brightest, illuminating even the darkest sky with its indomitable light.
With that heartwarming thought, Pinkie Pie settled down to wait, her gaze fixed on the path that would soon, she hoped, bring her friends to her side. The night was still, but her heart was alight with dreams of laughter, love, and a party that would be remembered for all the right reasons.
Under the soft glow of the moon, the party venue shone like a beacon of hope and happiness amidst the quiet of the night. Pinkie Pie, her mane now peppered with streaks of glitter and frosting, moved around the space with a gentle grace, far removed from her usual effervescent bounce. Each step was measured, each decoration placed with a silent wish that it would bring a smile to her friends' faces.
As she hung the last of the handmade streamers, a sigh escaped her lips—a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. Her eyes, reflecting the twinkling lights she'd strung up around the room, drifted to the empty space that would soon, hopefully, be filled with laughter and chatter. In that quiet moment, memories flooded in, each one a precious reminder of the bonds she cherished.
She remembered the laughter that filled the air during their impromptu picnic at Sweet Apple Acres, the warmth of the hugs shared after a successful fashion show at Rarity's boutique, the thrill of adventure from their last-minute trip to the Crystal Empire. Each memory was a snapshot of joy, a testament to the love and friendship that tied their lives together.
With every recollection, her resolve to make this party perfect only grew stronger. "This is more than just a party," Pinkie whispered to herself, her heart swelling with the love she felt for her friends. "It's a 'thank you' for every smile, every hug, and every moment that we've shared."
The final touch was a small, but special addition—a photo booth corner with props and backdrops for capturing the night's memories. "Because every party should be remembered," she thought, a playful grin spreading across her face as she pictured her friends striking silly poses.
Despite the fatigue that clung to her like a persistent shadow, Pinkie Pie's spirit was undeterred. As she looked over her handiwork, her heart hummed with a hopeful melody, one that whispered of reunions and new memories yet to be made. Tonight, she thought, would be a night where the magic of friendship shone brightest, illuminating even the darkest sky with its indomitable light.
With that heartwarming thought, Pinkie Pie settled down to wait, her gaze fixed on the path that would soon, she hoped, bring her friends to her side. The night was still, but her heart was alight with dreams of laughter, love, and a party that would be remembered for all the right reasons.
>>8596
The clock ticked away, echoing through the expanse of the room, each stroke a reminder of the time slipping into the night. Pinkie Pie, positioned by the entrance, wore a smile that flickered as brightly as the party lights strung overhead. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, darting to the door at the slightest sound, her heart a drumbeat of hope and excitement.
But as the night deepened, the vibrant energy that had filled the room seemed to dim, suffused with an air of longing and quietude. The door, which she had imagined would swing open with laughter and cheers, remained still, a silent guardian to the dreams she had woven with such care.
Finally, the soft murmur of conversation announced the arrival of some guests—Fluttershy, her gentle demeanor a balm, and Applejack, whose steady presence was as reassuring as the earth itself. Their smiles, though warm, carried traces of apology, an unspoken understanding of the vision that had yet to fully materialize.
"We wouldn't miss it for the world, sugarcube," Applejack said, her voice laden with sincerity. Fluttershy, nodding in agreement, added, "Your parties always bring so much joy, Pinkie."
The words, meant to comfort, only served to underscore the chasm between expectation and reality. Pinkie Pie, ever the embodiment of joy and resilience, rallied her spirits, pouring her heart into making the evening memorable for those who had come. Games were played, albeit with less vigor than usual; jokes were shared, their laughter not quite reaching the corners of the room; and the dance floor saw shadows more than shapes.
As the night wore on, the atmosphere, though tinged with a subdued warmth, couldn't shake the pall of what might have been. Pinkie Pie's laughter, usually so infectious, now seemed to echo too loudly against the walls, a stark reminder of the empty spaces around them.
In a quiet corner, away from the gentle hum of conversation, Pinkie Pie allowed herself a moment of reflection. The glittering decorations, the carefully curated playlist, the array of treats—all seemed to mock her with their promise of a celebration that fell just short of its mark.
The glow from the festive lights that once seemed to promise a night of unparalleled joy and camaraderie now flickered softly, casting long shadows that mirrored Pinkie Pie's waning spirits. She watched her friends, Fluttershy and Applejack, make the best of the evening, their smiles genuine but occasionally faltering, as if caught between the desire to uplift and the reality that hung heavily in the air.
In these moments, Pinkie's heart felt like a balloon deflated, not by a sudden pop but by a slow, almost imperceptible, leak of hope. The games she had planned with such enthusiasm were met with polite participation, yet the vibrant energy that usually characterized her parties was conspicuously absent. The laughter that did surface was a testament to the enduring bond between them, a bond that Pinkie cherished deeply. However, it was also a bittersweet reminder of the joyous cacophony that could have been, had the room been filled with all her cherished friends.
The music, a playlist curated with each friend's favorite song in mind, now played to an almost empty dance floor. Pinkie herself swayed to the melodies, trying to ignite a spark of festivity, her efforts a vibrant dance in the face of quietude. Applejack joined in, her movements a mix of awkwardness and earnestness, while Fluttershy tapped her hoof in time with the music, her gentle spirit undimmed by the night's turnout.
Even the feast laid out on the table, a colorful array of sweets and treats, each crafted with loving attention to detail, seemed to lose its luster as the night wore on. Pinkie had imagined her friends delighting in the flavors, their faces lit up with joy and surprise. Instead, the dishes were sampled with appreciation but lacked the communal joy of shared discovery.
As Pinkie Pie stood amidst the party she had poured her heart into, a sense of solitude enveloped her, a stark contrast to the loneliness she had sought to banish with this very celebration. The realization that effort and love do not always guarantee success weighed heavily on her, a lesson as profound as it was painful.
The clock ticked away, echoing through the expanse of the room, each stroke a reminder of the time slipping into the night. Pinkie Pie, positioned by the entrance, wore a smile that flickered as brightly as the party lights strung overhead. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, darting to the door at the slightest sound, her heart a drumbeat of hope and excitement.
But as the night deepened, the vibrant energy that had filled the room seemed to dim, suffused with an air of longing and quietude. The door, which she had imagined would swing open with laughter and cheers, remained still, a silent guardian to the dreams she had woven with such care.
Finally, the soft murmur of conversation announced the arrival of some guests—Fluttershy, her gentle demeanor a balm, and Applejack, whose steady presence was as reassuring as the earth itself. Their smiles, though warm, carried traces of apology, an unspoken understanding of the vision that had yet to fully materialize.
"We wouldn't miss it for the world, sugarcube," Applejack said, her voice laden with sincerity. Fluttershy, nodding in agreement, added, "Your parties always bring so much joy, Pinkie."
The words, meant to comfort, only served to underscore the chasm between expectation and reality. Pinkie Pie, ever the embodiment of joy and resilience, rallied her spirits, pouring her heart into making the evening memorable for those who had come. Games were played, albeit with less vigor than usual; jokes were shared, their laughter not quite reaching the corners of the room; and the dance floor saw shadows more than shapes.
As the night wore on, the atmosphere, though tinged with a subdued warmth, couldn't shake the pall of what might have been. Pinkie Pie's laughter, usually so infectious, now seemed to echo too loudly against the walls, a stark reminder of the empty spaces around them.
In a quiet corner, away from the gentle hum of conversation, Pinkie Pie allowed herself a moment of reflection. The glittering decorations, the carefully curated playlist, the array of treats—all seemed to mock her with their promise of a celebration that fell just short of its mark.
The glow from the festive lights that once seemed to promise a night of unparalleled joy and camaraderie now flickered softly, casting long shadows that mirrored Pinkie Pie's waning spirits. She watched her friends, Fluttershy and Applejack, make the best of the evening, their smiles genuine but occasionally faltering, as if caught between the desire to uplift and the reality that hung heavily in the air.
In these moments, Pinkie's heart felt like a balloon deflated, not by a sudden pop but by a slow, almost imperceptible, leak of hope. The games she had planned with such enthusiasm were met with polite participation, yet the vibrant energy that usually characterized her parties was conspicuously absent. The laughter that did surface was a testament to the enduring bond between them, a bond that Pinkie cherished deeply. However, it was also a bittersweet reminder of the joyous cacophony that could have been, had the room been filled with all her cherished friends.
The music, a playlist curated with each friend's favorite song in mind, now played to an almost empty dance floor. Pinkie herself swayed to the melodies, trying to ignite a spark of festivity, her efforts a vibrant dance in the face of quietude. Applejack joined in, her movements a mix of awkwardness and earnestness, while Fluttershy tapped her hoof in time with the music, her gentle spirit undimmed by the night's turnout.
Even the feast laid out on the table, a colorful array of sweets and treats, each crafted with loving attention to detail, seemed to lose its luster as the night wore on. Pinkie had imagined her friends delighting in the flavors, their faces lit up with joy and surprise. Instead, the dishes were sampled with appreciation but lacked the communal joy of shared discovery.
As Pinkie Pie stood amidst the party she had poured her heart into, a sense of solitude enveloped her, a stark contrast to the loneliness she had sought to banish with this very celebration. The realization that effort and love do not always guarantee success weighed heavily on her, a lesson as profound as it was painful.
>>8597
As the last whispers of laughter and the soft shuffle of departing hooves faded into the night, Pinkie Pie found herself enveloped in an almost eerie quiet. The vibrant echoes of what she had hoped would be the best party ever now seemed like distant dreams, carried away on the wind. Left alone amidst the remnants of her carefully planned celebration, Pinkie's heart felt heavy, a myriad of emotions swirling within her like a tempestuous sea.
The glittering decorations that had once promised a night of endless joy now stood as silent witnesses to her disappointment. As she began the solitary task of cleaning up, her movements were slow, reflecting the weight of her thoughts. Each piece of streamer taken down, each plate cleared away, felt like she was also trying to tidy away the feelings of betrayal and sadness that clung to her.
"Why didn't they come?" she whispered to the empty room, the question hanging in the air, unanswered. The silence from her friends, those who hadn't shown up, felt like a gap she couldn't bridge, a chasm too wide to cross with her usual cheer and optimism. In this moment of solitude, Pinkie confronted a truth she had never wanted to face—the fear that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as important to her friends as they were to her.
The quiet of the party room, now stripped of its festive air, served as the backdrop to Pinkie's silent contemplation. With each question she whispered into the stillness, it felt as if the shadows themselves were leaning in, eager yet unable to provide the comfort she sought.
"Did I do something wrong?" The question lingered, floating up to the ceiling where balloons still clung, remnants of her hope. "Was my party not fun enough? Not pink enough?" Her attempt at a joke fell flat, the humor lost in the vast emptiness of the room.
The questions kept coming, each one a gentle probe into her own insecurities, a reflection of the doubts that had started to cloud her usually unshakeable confidence. "Have I been too much? Too loud? Too... Pinkie?" For the first time, she considered the possibility that her boundless energy, her ceaseless joy, might have been overwhelming, even for her closest friends.
She thought about the invitations she had sent out, each one crafted with care and a dash of her signature exuberance. "Did they not feel the love I put into each word? Did they not see how much I wanted to share this happiness with them?"
In a moment of overwhelming sadness, the brightly colored noisemaker she'd been absently twirling between her hooves slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the floor with a sound far too loud in the oppressive silence of the room. Pinkie's gaze followed it down, watching as it rolled away, a vibrant reminder of the joy that had failed to take root. Suddenly, the walls seemed to close in on her, the festive decorations morphing into vivid taunts of her loneliness.
A sob caught in her throat, growing with intensity until it burst forth, a raw expression of her pain. Her hooves moved almost of their own accord, sweeping across the table and sending a cascade of cups and plates crashing to the ground. The sound of shattering hopes was deafening in the serene night, each break a symphony to her breaking heart.
She couldn't stand it anymore—the echoes of her dreams against the reality of her solitude. Turning on her heel, Pinkie dashed from the room, her sobs a tumultuous storm trailing behind her. The party room, once a place of laughter and light, now stood as a monument to her despair, the scattered remnants of her efforts lying in disarray.
Her room offered no solace, the familiar walls watching in silence as she flung herself onto her bed, burying her face into the pillow. The fabric muffled her cries, each tear a testament to the depths of her distress. She cried for the party that wasn't, for the friends who didn't come, for the happiness that seemed just out of reach. The pillow soaked up her tears, the only witness to her vulnerability in this moment of utter desolation.
Exhaustion eventually claimed her, pulling her into a restless sleep, her cheeks still wet with tears. The night passed slowly, the moon casting a gentle glow through her window, a silent sentinel over the pony who had tried so hard to spread joy, only to find herself adrift in sorrow.
As the last whispers of laughter and the soft shuffle of departing hooves faded into the night, Pinkie Pie found herself enveloped in an almost eerie quiet. The vibrant echoes of what she had hoped would be the best party ever now seemed like distant dreams, carried away on the wind. Left alone amidst the remnants of her carefully planned celebration, Pinkie's heart felt heavy, a myriad of emotions swirling within her like a tempestuous sea.
The glittering decorations that had once promised a night of endless joy now stood as silent witnesses to her disappointment. As she began the solitary task of cleaning up, her movements were slow, reflecting the weight of her thoughts. Each piece of streamer taken down, each plate cleared away, felt like she was also trying to tidy away the feelings of betrayal and sadness that clung to her.
"Why didn't they come?" she whispered to the empty room, the question hanging in the air, unanswered. The silence from her friends, those who hadn't shown up, felt like a gap she couldn't bridge, a chasm too wide to cross with her usual cheer and optimism. In this moment of solitude, Pinkie confronted a truth she had never wanted to face—the fear that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as important to her friends as they were to her.
The quiet of the party room, now stripped of its festive air, served as the backdrop to Pinkie's silent contemplation. With each question she whispered into the stillness, it felt as if the shadows themselves were leaning in, eager yet unable to provide the comfort she sought.
"Did I do something wrong?" The question lingered, floating up to the ceiling where balloons still clung, remnants of her hope. "Was my party not fun enough? Not pink enough?" Her attempt at a joke fell flat, the humor lost in the vast emptiness of the room.
The questions kept coming, each one a gentle probe into her own insecurities, a reflection of the doubts that had started to cloud her usually unshakeable confidence. "Have I been too much? Too loud? Too... Pinkie?" For the first time, she considered the possibility that her boundless energy, her ceaseless joy, might have been overwhelming, even for her closest friends.
She thought about the invitations she had sent out, each one crafted with care and a dash of her signature exuberance. "Did they not feel the love I put into each word? Did they not see how much I wanted to share this happiness with them?"
In a moment of overwhelming sadness, the brightly colored noisemaker she'd been absently twirling between her hooves slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the floor with a sound far too loud in the oppressive silence of the room. Pinkie's gaze followed it down, watching as it rolled away, a vibrant reminder of the joy that had failed to take root. Suddenly, the walls seemed to close in on her, the festive decorations morphing into vivid taunts of her loneliness.
A sob caught in her throat, growing with intensity until it burst forth, a raw expression of her pain. Her hooves moved almost of their own accord, sweeping across the table and sending a cascade of cups and plates crashing to the ground. The sound of shattering hopes was deafening in the serene night, each break a symphony to her breaking heart.
She couldn't stand it anymore—the echoes of her dreams against the reality of her solitude. Turning on her heel, Pinkie dashed from the room, her sobs a tumultuous storm trailing behind her. The party room, once a place of laughter and light, now stood as a monument to her despair, the scattered remnants of her efforts lying in disarray.
Her room offered no solace, the familiar walls watching in silence as she flung herself onto her bed, burying her face into the pillow. The fabric muffled her cries, each tear a testament to the depths of her distress. She cried for the party that wasn't, for the friends who didn't come, for the happiness that seemed just out of reach. The pillow soaked up her tears, the only witness to her vulnerability in this moment of utter desolation.
Exhaustion eventually claimed her, pulling her into a restless sleep, her cheeks still wet with tears. The night passed slowly, the moon casting a gentle glow through her window, a silent sentinel over the pony who had tried so hard to spread joy, only to find herself adrift in sorrow.
>>8594
>>8595
>>8596
>>8597
>>8598
I wanted to write this story, and it's been sitting in my 'WIP, to proofread' folder for ages. It has been written with AI-assistance, i wanted to just get it off my chest as soon as possible rather than write, I guess.
I hope at least one of you enjoys it, but I would do appreciate any comments on it. People don't usually comment their thoughts on the stories I write.
It's ok if you hate it, I rather hear hate than nothingness.
>>8595
>>8596
>>8597
>>8598
I wanted to write this story, and it's been sitting in my 'WIP, to proofread' folder for ages. It has been written with AI-assistance, i wanted to just get it off my chest as soon as possible rather than write, I guess.
I hope at least one of you enjoys it, but I would do appreciate any comments on it. People don't usually comment their thoughts on the stories I write.
It's ok if you hate it, I rather hear hate than nothingness.
>>8599
I wanna give your story a chance someday. Hopefully I'll get to it. ^^
Here is something wrote today:
Fluttershy’s day had been strange. It had started awfully. Not only had she been forced to participate with the other fillies in flight-school by her mother, she would have much rather stayed home taking care of her dad’s cloud collection with her father, than show off her mediocre flying skills to the other pegasus fillies, and Gilda, Rainbow Dash’s gryphon friend. Dash, per usual, had been mean to her. However, Rainbow would always hide her bullying behind the veneer of giving Fluttershy tough love. Fluttershhy wasn’t sure how comments like, ”You fly like a colt,” were helpful, but fine.
Rainbow Dash decided to pick on you, however, a nice pair of colts defended you, telling Rainbow off her bullying behvaior. It felt nice, until Dash made fun of you before the other fillies that you were quote, ”Hiding behind colts.”
That one hurt, because you couldn’t deny it. Even the colts defeneding you saw you as weak and challanged Rainbow to a race on your behalf. Insisting that they didn’t need to, was only taken as an insult by them and they told you to sit on a cloud and watch. So Fluttershy did.
As they took off Dash took the lead and the two colts followed closely behind. However, Gilda, who was also part of the race, took off straight at you. Now you remembered, you saw Dash whisper something into her ear before they trotted over the start line. She came over and swiped the underside of your cloud footing and before you knew it, you were falling.
As said, you were a bad flier, a scared flier at the best of time and free falling to the ground from Cloudsdale was not the best of times. You hurt your wing as your flailed around in the air, in panic. Then you rememebered what the instructor told you if you were free falling.
Take a breath, aim your nose to the ground, pull out your wings t othe side, and then slowly, slowly pull your body up and the momentum with you horizontally.
So you tried. You took a breath. Moved into dive position which was easier than you thought as moving limbs behind other body parts as to not hit the air first made them easy to move there.
But it was here the problems started to arise, the upwards wind or rather the air you were crashing through ccould truly be felt on your face. And staring stright down into the ground below was really unnerving.
However, adrenaline override the inital fear of heights as the fear of death loomed over you. You, with some effort especially since one of your wings were already strained, pulled out your wings fully.
You noticed the effect immidately, it almost felt hard to dive completely vertically downards, as the air that got under your wings pulled at them and wanted to right you out. Instead you went down in an oblique manner.
Then as the ground got closer, you still felt as if you hadn’t fully tranformed your falling momentum into a sideways speed yet so you flapped those wings of yours despite the pain that radiated out of your right one as you did so and you mnaged tyo right yourself.
You know how to break you speed while flying but yoou didn’t usualyl have this much speed so sadly you slide across the forrest floor, pulling up moss and weed in your wake.
You felt pain along your hooves and you could see that you got some bruises, however, after a small break of having finally landed, you stood up and nothing was broken and you were alive so really a few brusies was no big deal in the whole.
You peered up and what you saw was both a confidence boost and a fright.
Far above you, you could see the cloudcity of Cloudsdale. So far up, you knew two things: One, if you haven’t manged to break you fall with your wings, you would have died; and two, you weren’t flying back up there again.
You had never flown that long before. You could barely imagine the task of climbing back up to Cloudsdale again. Going down had been easier, because that had mostly been falling but flying up would mean a lot of flaps with her wings. More than she had down before and more than she knew she managed. And flying was a bit like swiming she had heard from more worldly pegasi, if you were planning on pushing yourself to the limit, then it was better to do that near the shore, or in flying’s case, over thick clouds so that crashing from exhaustion wasn’t a big deal.
I wanna give your story a chance someday. Hopefully I'll get to it. ^^
Here is something wrote today:
Fluttershy’s day had been strange. It had started awfully. Not only had she been forced to participate with the other fillies in flight-school by her mother, she would have much rather stayed home taking care of her dad’s cloud collection with her father, than show off her mediocre flying skills to the other pegasus fillies, and Gilda, Rainbow Dash’s gryphon friend. Dash, per usual, had been mean to her. However, Rainbow would always hide her bullying behind the veneer of giving Fluttershy tough love. Fluttershhy wasn’t sure how comments like, ”You fly like a colt,” were helpful, but fine.
Rainbow Dash decided to pick on you, however, a nice pair of colts defended you, telling Rainbow off her bullying behvaior. It felt nice, until Dash made fun of you before the other fillies that you were quote, ”Hiding behind colts.”
That one hurt, because you couldn’t deny it. Even the colts defeneding you saw you as weak and challanged Rainbow to a race on your behalf. Insisting that they didn’t need to, was only taken as an insult by them and they told you to sit on a cloud and watch. So Fluttershy did.
As they took off Dash took the lead and the two colts followed closely behind. However, Gilda, who was also part of the race, took off straight at you. Now you remembered, you saw Dash whisper something into her ear before they trotted over the start line. She came over and swiped the underside of your cloud footing and before you knew it, you were falling.
As said, you were a bad flier, a scared flier at the best of time and free falling to the ground from Cloudsdale was not the best of times. You hurt your wing as your flailed around in the air, in panic. Then you rememebered what the instructor told you if you were free falling.
Take a breath, aim your nose to the ground, pull out your wings t othe side, and then slowly, slowly pull your body up and the momentum with you horizontally.
So you tried. You took a breath. Moved into dive position which was easier than you thought as moving limbs behind other body parts as to not hit the air first made them easy to move there.
But it was here the problems started to arise, the upwards wind or rather the air you were crashing through ccould truly be felt on your face. And staring stright down into the ground below was really unnerving.
However, adrenaline override the inital fear of heights as the fear of death loomed over you. You, with some effort especially since one of your wings were already strained, pulled out your wings fully.
You noticed the effect immidately, it almost felt hard to dive completely vertically downards, as the air that got under your wings pulled at them and wanted to right you out. Instead you went down in an oblique manner.
Then as the ground got closer, you still felt as if you hadn’t fully tranformed your falling momentum into a sideways speed yet so you flapped those wings of yours despite the pain that radiated out of your right one as you did so and you mnaged tyo right yourself.
You know how to break you speed while flying but yoou didn’t usualyl have this much speed so sadly you slide across the forrest floor, pulling up moss and weed in your wake.
You felt pain along your hooves and you could see that you got some bruises, however, after a small break of having finally landed, you stood up and nothing was broken and you were alive so really a few brusies was no big deal in the whole.
You peered up and what you saw was both a confidence boost and a fright.
Far above you, you could see the cloudcity of Cloudsdale. So far up, you knew two things: One, if you haven’t manged to break you fall with your wings, you would have died; and two, you weren’t flying back up there again.
You had never flown that long before. You could barely imagine the task of climbing back up to Cloudsdale again. Going down had been easier, because that had mostly been falling but flying up would mean a lot of flaps with her wings. More than she had down before and more than she knew she managed. And flying was a bit like swiming she had heard from more worldly pegasi, if you were planning on pushing yourself to the limit, then it was better to do that near the shore, or in flying’s case, over thick clouds so that crashing from exhaustion wasn’t a big deal.
>>9053
That’s when she noticed a wood pigeon up ona branch. Then another one. They cooed at her. She blinked. Suddenly a butterfly fluttered passed her vision. It guide her eyes onto some bunnies grazing nearby with some ducks, while a squirrel bounded up a tree trunk.
Suddenly, it was the only animal fleeing as a huge blast of sound tore through the forrest. Fluttershy spun her head up to the sky. There she saw a giant blast in rainbow colors. A disc with the whole spectra of colors hung in the air.
After the explosion, Fluttershy set out to help the animals calm down and that’s when she gained her cutie mark.
Three butterflies, which was both great but also sad. It was always fun to gain your cutie mark but it also made her wonder, was there something wrong with her? After all, what kind of filly felt it was her destiny to nuture animals and had butterflies on her flank?
Dark came faster than she had counted on. The animals had sought out her after the explosion and she couldn’t bear leaving them scared and on attented to. But dusk came soon and eventually the critters left for their own homes, leaving you all by yourself.
Now lost in whatever this place was in the stumbling through a barely lit forrest at night was spooking you real good.
After a while of traveling in the dark, you couldn’t help the feeling that you were watched. You started to trot with a more intense pace, however, not sure where you were going though.
However, your silent prayers were answered as you could see light up ahead. As you pushed through the branches and twigs in your path to the light, you found a cottage.
That’s also when you heard something that made all the hairs on your fur stand up. A powerful howl that sounded like vibrated in a wooden chamber was followed up by more howls of the same type.
You bolted for the cottage. You could hear some growls behind you. You threw a look over your shoulder and saw three pairs of green-yellow glowing and slit eyes in the darkness of the woods as you galloped across a small wooden bridge. You ran up to the cottage door and banged on it.
You heard another growl behidn your and you peeked into the forrest. You could see six of them now. Though some more clear than others, as some stood in the darkness of the forrest while others had stepped outside of the murk and had their silhoutes almost visible. Yet, it seemed odd to you that they hadn’t moved onto the lawn of the cottage and that they basically stood still instead of closing in on her in pursuit.
However, those thoughts were interupted as the door opened.
You had expected a pony, instead you encountered somehting that made you fall on your butt. The creature before you stood upright on it’s hindlegs to a point were it no longer looked like she was stretching to stand in such a manner but instead would seem awkward stnading on all fours. It was a her, Fluttershy could tell, those badonka hips and giant mammaries, what else could it be? It had green skin and wore clothes so it was clearly civilized. On it’s shoulder was a bird(pigeon).
What stood out the most to Flutterhsy though, was its eyes, that reminded her of the creatures behidn her: Predatory eyes.
However, the clothes sealed the deal for her, even if it was a carnivore perhaps she could strike up a deal with it to live like another pet bird which she knew she couldn’t with the wolvess behind her.
”Plea–” You began but was adriptely cut off as the female creature grabbed you with it’s strange, hairless paw by the neckskin and tossed you inside before shutting hte door behind you too.
That’s when she noticed a wood pigeon up ona branch. Then another one. They cooed at her. She blinked. Suddenly a butterfly fluttered passed her vision. It guide her eyes onto some bunnies grazing nearby with some ducks, while a squirrel bounded up a tree trunk.
Suddenly, it was the only animal fleeing as a huge blast of sound tore through the forrest. Fluttershy spun her head up to the sky. There she saw a giant blast in rainbow colors. A disc with the whole spectra of colors hung in the air.
After the explosion, Fluttershy set out to help the animals calm down and that’s when she gained her cutie mark.
Three butterflies, which was both great but also sad. It was always fun to gain your cutie mark but it also made her wonder, was there something wrong with her? After all, what kind of filly felt it was her destiny to nuture animals and had butterflies on her flank?
Dark came faster than she had counted on. The animals had sought out her after the explosion and she couldn’t bear leaving them scared and on attented to. But dusk came soon and eventually the critters left for their own homes, leaving you all by yourself.
Now lost in whatever this place was in the stumbling through a barely lit forrest at night was spooking you real good.
After a while of traveling in the dark, you couldn’t help the feeling that you were watched. You started to trot with a more intense pace, however, not sure where you were going though.
However, your silent prayers were answered as you could see light up ahead. As you pushed through the branches and twigs in your path to the light, you found a cottage.
That’s also when you heard something that made all the hairs on your fur stand up. A powerful howl that sounded like vibrated in a wooden chamber was followed up by more howls of the same type.
You bolted for the cottage. You could hear some growls behind you. You threw a look over your shoulder and saw three pairs of green-yellow glowing and slit eyes in the darkness of the woods as you galloped across a small wooden bridge. You ran up to the cottage door and banged on it.
You heard another growl behidn your and you peeked into the forrest. You could see six of them now. Though some more clear than others, as some stood in the darkness of the forrest while others had stepped outside of the murk and had their silhoutes almost visible. Yet, it seemed odd to you that they hadn’t moved onto the lawn of the cottage and that they basically stood still instead of closing in on her in pursuit.
However, those thoughts were interupted as the door opened.
You had expected a pony, instead you encountered somehting that made you fall on your butt. The creature before you stood upright on it’s hindlegs to a point were it no longer looked like she was stretching to stand in such a manner but instead would seem awkward stnading on all fours. It was a her, Fluttershy could tell, those badonka hips and giant mammaries, what else could it be? It had green skin and wore clothes so it was clearly civilized. On it’s shoulder was a bird(pigeon).
What stood out the most to Flutterhsy though, was its eyes, that reminded her of the creatures behidn her: Predatory eyes.
However, the clothes sealed the deal for her, even if it was a carnivore perhaps she could strike up a deal with it to live like another pet bird which she knew she couldn’t with the wolvess behind her.
”Plea–” You began but was adriptely cut off as the female creature grabbed you with it’s strange, hairless paw by the neckskin and tossed you inside before shutting hte door behind you too.
I need to get a gf. To get a gf, I will drive to a park or a place where cute, non-stacey girls hang out. To do this, I need to learn to drive.
I hate being alive no matter what I do, so tomorrow I will spend three hours practicing driving in the DMV parking lot, even though it says "No practice driving allowed."
I hate being alive no matter what I do, so tomorrow I will spend three hours practicing driving in the DMV parking lot, even though it says "No practice driving allowed."
57 replies and 20 files omitted.
>>8950
There are five billion females on earth. Sounds like a cop-out to preemptively declare that none are suitable without even trying to look.
But again, it's your bloodline. Do what you want.
There are five billion females on earth. Sounds like a cop-out to preemptively declare that none are suitable without even trying to look.
But again, it's your bloodline. Do what you want.
>>8951
>Sounds like a cop-out to preemptively declare that none are suitable without even trying to look.
Suffice to say, I'm tired of deal with them and their non-sense. And for practical purposes, it is more convenient to rent than to buy as the relationship keeps into the professional bounds and you can switch pussy anytime you consider it appropriate. And all this wisdom is coming from an anon who banged married women all his life.
>Sounds like a cop-out to preemptively declare that none are suitable without even trying to look.
Suffice to say, I'm tired of deal with them and their non-sense. And for practical purposes, it is more convenient to rent than to buy as the relationship keeps into the professional bounds and you can switch pussy anytime you consider it appropriate. And all this wisdom is coming from an anon who banged married women all his life.
And the following is an eye opener on the dark psychology of women. A private investigator working for the VIPs spills the beans. He tells about very wealthy and educated married women and girls, from very good families having a double life by regularly exercising prostitution, among a lot of ugly stuff that regular normie men are unable to comprehend.
Shocking indeed.
>Private Eye Russ Joins In Studio to Reveal women's Dark Secrets | The Sitdown
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRsTPmJqCB4
Shocking indeed.
>Private Eye Russ Joins In Studio to Reveal women's Dark Secrets | The Sitdown
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRsTPmJqCB4
1763638661.mp4 (1.7 MB, Resolution:480x854 Length:00:00:20, Nick's Dating Advice.mp4) [play once] [loop]
A wise advise.
>>8956
Isn't Nick Fuentez a queer? Doesn't he have a long history with "catboys?" I am not altogether certain why anyone with three working synapses would take dating advice, or life advice, or political advice, from a rump ranger, but okay.
Isn't Nick Fuentez a queer? Doesn't he have a long history with "catboys?" I am not altogether certain why anyone with three working synapses would take dating advice, or life advice, or political advice, from a rump ranger, but okay.
1557767793.png (106.7 KB, 500x406, my-fap-senses-are-tingling-the-sixth-sense-22116892.png)
I'm coming to my wits end with this shit. I'm getting tired of feeling drained and passionless towards what I used to love. I want to write again. I want to enjoy playing games again. I want to wake up and not feel like I got to fap first just to get out of bed. I want to feel something other then nothing.
The thing is when I try I always fall right back in. I've made it three days and I saw some cleavage and suddenly got horny I thought I would collapse. I left and had to drive home but the urge would go away! I couldn't fight it and I felt so disgusted with myself. The moment I got home, I had to jerk it.
How do you guys deal with these urges? How do I get a life back?
The thing is when I try I always fall right back in. I've made it three days and I saw some cleavage and suddenly got horny I thought I would collapse. I left and had to drive home but the urge would go away! I couldn't fight it and I felt so disgusted with myself. The moment I got home, I had to jerk it.
How do you guys deal with these urges? How do I get a life back?
207 replies and 119 files omitted.
Are people seriously still doing nofap in 2024? Just give it a few years, your overcharged libido will even out. I used to watch porn and beat it constantly, now I jerk it maybe once a week if even. I rarely view porn. Didn’t really take any special effort, I just got bored with it and moved on to other things.
>>7532
>I just got bored with it and moved on to other things.
Glad to read that. Many got disensibilized and in their quest for pleasure fell deeper and deeper into perversion.
Something like: vaginal>anal>BDSM>transvestism>pedophilia>murder
>I just got bored with it and moved on to other things.
Glad to read that. Many got disensibilized and in their quest for pleasure fell deeper and deeper into perversion.
Something like: vaginal>anal>BDSM>transvestism>pedophilia>murder
>>7533
Tbh I probably did get desensitized, but it didn’t really have that pipeline effect on me, it just meant I got bored with it and stopped. When I was a teenager I was like Beavis and Butthead, obsessing over boobs and naked girls and whatever, so as soon as I had access to porn I went crazy with it. After awhile though tits and vaginas and assholes all look the same and there’s no thrill anymore just in seeing that. At the same time that incessant sex drive you have when you’re younger just sort of ebbed off for me. So at this point I just fap occasionally when I need to and otherwise don’t really think about it. If I view porn at all it’s usually just for the duration it takes me to finish, which isn’t long. I honestly can’t imagine just sitting and gooning to it for hours the way some people do.
Tbh I probably did get desensitized, but it didn’t really have that pipeline effect on me, it just meant I got bored with it and stopped. When I was a teenager I was like Beavis and Butthead, obsessing over boobs and naked girls and whatever, so as soon as I had access to porn I went crazy with it. After awhile though tits and vaginas and assholes all look the same and there’s no thrill anymore just in seeing that. At the same time that incessant sex drive you have when you’re younger just sort of ebbed off for me. So at this point I just fap occasionally when I need to and otherwise don’t really think about it. If I view porn at all it’s usually just for the duration it takes me to finish, which isn’t long. I honestly can’t imagine just sitting and gooning to it for hours the way some people do.
1768531051.png (367.8 KB, 1920x1080, 47bd945a3672d0a8396565484c86503c.png)
Bumping to keep the morals.
There are a few things I'd like to do in this thread
- document my soap making process
- document process changes and upgrades to equipment
- detail common problems when making soap
- answer any soap making questions
- eventually let everyone know when and where product can be purchased
Basically everything to do with soap.
I'm not concerned about telling somebody how to make a product that I'm selling either. There are a few reasons for this: Some people won't be able to receive such a product overseas, or it wouldn't be feasible to ship. I'm not so petty to think that trying to conceal information somehow results in "job security". The soap making process is already quite well documented. Finally, I didn't start making soap to make money with, I started because of the memes, but also to have a product to better prepare myself for economic collapse.
I wish to share this with you guys so (you) too can better prepare yourself for whatever is coming.
Lets start with the boring stuff, like what is soap?
I would define soap as a surfactant. A surfactant is a molecule that will bind to water, oil, and particles.
The US legal definition is 'soap made from natural ingredients'. Synthetic soap is often sold as 'beauty bars' or 'body wash' instead of soap, because they are not made with natural ingredients.
Most modern engine and transmission oils, and heavy grease used for equipment will contain detergents. Don't let the word detergent mislead you, it means the same thing as surfacant.
Lye harvested for soap making in ages past is called potash. The potash lye soap making process is a fair bit more involved, and the chemical reactions are a bit different. https://classicbells.com/soap/woodAshLye.asp
Potash soap has been made for a very, very long time. If one of you decides to try this out, please let us know how it goes!
"modern" naturally made soap uses either potassium hydroxide or sodium hydroxide for the lye. Sodium hydroxide is used for making liquid soaps, sodium hydroxide for solid soap bars.
The easiest way to get sodium hydroxide is from a hardware store selling containers of "pure lye" drain unclogger in the plumbing section. For example https://www.homedepot.com/p/Instant-Power-Crystal-Lye-Drain-Cleaner-1650/204374017
Soap made from natural ingredients is a very sloppy chemical reaction. There are untold numbers of different chemicals and compounds found naturally in any given type of oil. Most of those oils will react with the lye to make some rather complex reactions that result in "soap". It is not uncommon for the soap to change color as it cures for this reason.
Oils are typically mixed and matched to make a nice bar of soap, as no single oil has a good mix of the fatty acids necessary for a good bar of soap.
When making your first batch of soap:
Start with solid bars of soap, instead of trying to make liquid soap. Liquid soap is much pickier about what kind of oils you use.
Use an existing recipe for your first batch, then try to make soap using as much local products as possible. When economic collapse happens, getting those foreign oils will be much more difficult or impossible.
Start with a 2:1 water:lye ratio. If your recipe calls for 12 ounces of lye, use 24 ounces of distilled water. Ignore however much water the recipe calls for.
When building your own recipe, or modifying an existing one, use the following two web pages:
http://soapcalc.net/calc/SoapCalcWP.asp
https://classicbells.com/soap/soapCalcNumbers.asp
And when in doubt, ask in here.
This first post is just a boring autistic dump on chunks of important or related information. I'll post a lot more (actual making) soap stuff when I get the chance. I think this is a pretty good start though.
Be sure to ask whatever in here about anything related. Over the last year I've been pretty autistically going over how most people make soap, refining my own process, and doing fairly deep-diving research on the topic and general chemistry.
- document my soap making process
- document process changes and upgrades to equipment
- detail common problems when making soap
- answer any soap making questions
- eventually let everyone know when and where product can be purchased
Basically everything to do with soap.
I'm not concerned about telling somebody how to make a product that I'm selling either. There are a few reasons for this: Some people won't be able to receive such a product overseas, or it wouldn't be feasible to ship. I'm not so petty to think that trying to conceal information somehow results in "job security". The soap making process is already quite well documented. Finally, I didn't start making soap to make money with, I started because of the memes, but also to have a product to better prepare myself for economic collapse.
I wish to share this with you guys so (you) too can better prepare yourself for whatever is coming.
Lets start with the boring stuff, like what is soap?
I would define soap as a surfactant. A surfactant is a molecule that will bind to water, oil, and particles.
The US legal definition is 'soap made from natural ingredients'. Synthetic soap is often sold as 'beauty bars' or 'body wash' instead of soap, because they are not made with natural ingredients.
Most modern engine and transmission oils, and heavy grease used for equipment will contain detergents. Don't let the word detergent mislead you, it means the same thing as surfacant.
Lye harvested for soap making in ages past is called potash. The potash lye soap making process is a fair bit more involved, and the chemical reactions are a bit different. https://classicbells.com/soap/woodAshLye.asp
Potash soap has been made for a very, very long time. If one of you decides to try this out, please let us know how it goes!
"modern" naturally made soap uses either potassium hydroxide or sodium hydroxide for the lye. Sodium hydroxide is used for making liquid soaps, sodium hydroxide for solid soap bars.
The easiest way to get sodium hydroxide is from a hardware store selling containers of "pure lye" drain unclogger in the plumbing section. For example https://www.homedepot.com/p/Instant-Power-Crystal-Lye-Drain-Cleaner-1650/204374017
Soap made from natural ingredients is a very sloppy chemical reaction. There are untold numbers of different chemicals and compounds found naturally in any given type of oil. Most of those oils will react with the lye to make some rather complex reactions that result in "soap". It is not uncommon for the soap to change color as it cures for this reason.
Oils are typically mixed and matched to make a nice bar of soap, as no single oil has a good mix of the fatty acids necessary for a good bar of soap.
When making your first batch of soap:
Start with solid bars of soap, instead of trying to make liquid soap. Liquid soap is much pickier about what kind of oils you use.
Use an existing recipe for your first batch, then try to make soap using as much local products as possible. When economic collapse happens, getting those foreign oils will be much more difficult or impossible.
Start with a 2:1 water:lye ratio. If your recipe calls for 12 ounces of lye, use 24 ounces of distilled water. Ignore however much water the recipe calls for.
When building your own recipe, or modifying an existing one, use the following two web pages:
http://soapcalc.net/calc/SoapCalcWP.asp
https://classicbells.com/soap/soapCalcNumbers.asp
And when in doubt, ask in here.
This first post is just a boring autistic dump on chunks of important or related information. I'll post a lot more (actual making) soap stuff when I get the chance. I think this is a pretty good start though.
Be sure to ask whatever in here about anything related. Over the last year I've been pretty autistically going over how most people make soap, refining my own process, and doing fairly deep-diving research on the topic and general chemistry.
101 replies and 57 files omitted.
>>7382
kek
>>7440
sure
made a batch a couple weekends ago, about 7 gallons. Need to bottle it now. Probably going to try a few different things before getting something good to take to mare fair.
the yeast isn't working too good, mostly because there isn't a way to regulate the brewing temp and the swings tends to kill the yeast.
I want to get a cheap costco chest freezer and put a temp control probe in it to keep the temps around 66F. Or maybe I can find a used chest freezer.
kek
>>7440
sure
made a batch a couple weekends ago, about 7 gallons. Need to bottle it now. Probably going to try a few different things before getting something good to take to mare fair.
the yeast isn't working too good, mostly because there isn't a way to regulate the brewing temp and the swings tends to kill the yeast.
I want to get a cheap costco chest freezer and put a temp control probe in it to keep the temps around 66F. Or maybe I can find a used chest freezer.
>>7441
>>7440
the beer was enh. need to try again but over the winter, bugs and mice got into the grain, so need to get more. did end up getting a chest freezer and it works great at keeping the fermenting the same temp. Very important to keep fermenting at about +- 6 degrees F
It's been a while since I updated soap making stuff. Mostly been keeping the website going and shipping soap orders. I have incense, but its not listed on the website. Been tossing incense in with soap orders as a bonus. Need to make a lot of stuff, until now its been too cold on the weekends to do anything. I'll take pictures of the new stuff as I get to it.
>>7440
the beer was enh. need to try again but over the winter, bugs and mice got into the grain, so need to get more. did end up getting a chest freezer and it works great at keeping the fermenting the same temp. Very important to keep fermenting at about +- 6 degrees F
It's been a while since I updated soap making stuff. Mostly been keeping the website going and shipping soap orders. I have incense, but its not listed on the website. Been tossing incense in with soap orders as a bonus. Need to make a lot of stuff, until now its been too cold on the weekends to do anything. I'll take pictures of the new stuff as I get to it.
1768186172_1.mp4 (11.9 MB, Resolution:480x360 Length:00:02:52, What is Triple milled Soap [CaNWQopo6aY].mp4) [play once] [loop]
![What is Triple milled Soap [CaNWQopo6aY].mp4](/images/thumb/C59D4D7C43F50CAEA0873663686029C9-12476305.png)
Whew, been a hot minute.
I haven't really updated anything because nothing has really changed for soap making, until now.
Got a lot of other important stuff fixed (house, car) that should be good for at least a few years before anything further needs to be done.
That means I get to go back and work on making the soap manufacturing process better \o/
Not that the soap will be "better" really, but the manufacturing process should be faster, soap better looking, and should last a little longer.
>>6194 and >>6725 is the two posts I mentioned soap milling.
Well, now I'm getting the tools needed to make the dies so the soap shreds can compress into a bar. Linked is a little video I found of a hyper-efficient soap milling setup. I'm not going that far, but with the dies I plan on making, such volume should be realistic. That volume of manufacturing will require a lot more supporting equipment than just a die and press.
Regardless, I plan on making a batch of soap, shredding it with a cheese shredder, mixing in some dye and fragrance after its cured, and press it back into a bar of soap. I have everything I need except for the die and press.
The tools in the screenshot should be all the tools I need to make the dies with.
Unrelated project but is relevant to this board is also brewing. If you know me then you might already know what it is. Project will be more impressive than soap making.
Until I get enough progress to start a thread, not saying much else.
I haven't really updated anything because nothing has really changed for soap making, until now.
Got a lot of other important stuff fixed (house, car) that should be good for at least a few years before anything further needs to be done.
That means I get to go back and work on making the soap manufacturing process better \o/
Not that the soap will be "better" really, but the manufacturing process should be faster, soap better looking, and should last a little longer.
>>6194 and >>6725 is the two posts I mentioned soap milling.
Well, now I'm getting the tools needed to make the dies so the soap shreds can compress into a bar. Linked is a little video I found of a hyper-efficient soap milling setup. I'm not going that far, but with the dies I plan on making, such volume should be realistic. That volume of manufacturing will require a lot more supporting equipment than just a die and press.
Regardless, I plan on making a batch of soap, shredding it with a cheese shredder, mixing in some dye and fragrance after its cured, and press it back into a bar of soap. I have everything I need except for the die and press.
The tools in the screenshot should be all the tools I need to make the dies with.
Unrelated project but is relevant to this board is also brewing. If you know me then you might already know what it is. Project will be more impressive than soap making.
Until I get enough progress to start a thread, not saying much else.
>>9037
>Got a lot of other important stuff fixed (house, car) that should be good for at least a few years before anything further needs to be done.
>a few years
I like these kinds of DIY breads, but you've got me intrigued about how to fix a house and especially car so that it lasts a few years before extra work needs to be done. :0 Move over ChrisFix and Scotty Kilmer.
Also, those are eye-watering prices for those fancy drill bits; hoof-made by a secret clan of Japanese Samurai Ponies?
>Got a lot of other important stuff fixed (house, car) that should be good for at least a few years before anything further needs to be done.
>a few years
I like these kinds of DIY breads, but you've got me intrigued about how to fix a house and especially car so that it lasts a few years before extra work needs to be done. :0 Move over ChrisFix and Scotty Kilmer.
Also, those are eye-watering prices for those fancy drill bits; hoof-made by a secret clan of Japanese Samurai Ponies?
>>9039
Now that I'm thinking about it, I lied... maybe. The clutch is close-ish to needing replaced. Could probably go a couple+ years before actually getting replaced though. It's a bit "squishy" due to a failed street race and I burned the clutch a bit, probably took half its life out with a bit of clutch glazing.
The thing I fixed was the timing belt pullies. Stock pullies are made of plastic. I hate plastic. I made my own out of steel with replaceable bearings.
In the picture, those are all endmills, not drill bits. Look up CNC mill videos on youtube or something to see how endmills work. Also refer to the 'mares in manufacturing matter' thread also on this board.
Now that I'm thinking about it, I lied... maybe. The clutch is close-ish to needing replaced. Could probably go a couple+ years before actually getting replaced though. It's a bit "squishy" due to a failed street race and I burned the clutch a bit, probably took half its life out with a bit of clutch glazing.
The thing I fixed was the timing belt pullies. Stock pullies are made of plastic. I hate plastic. I made my own out of steel with replaceable bearings.
In the picture, those are all endmills, not drill bits. Look up CNC mill videos on youtube or something to see how endmills work. Also refer to the 'mares in manufacturing matter' thread also on this board.
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