School Daze

Sanity:

You could say that life is a happy place full of rainbows and glitter. Life is sane and easy. Us ponies hate war and conflict because it is so out of the sane experience of cutie marks and puke inducing colors. But I think you ponies have something with that sane explanation. I’ve been stuck up in this mental hospital long enough to see. I always come back to Cheerilee’s final sentence like a drug. ‘...so class, see you next Monday and  I hope you have a great weekend.’ I love that.

I have a cutie mark; so I am a pony. I need a wax; therefore I wax. Ponies are dying; therefore we pray to the Princesses. Its a carnival ride set up with unchanging variables of speed and danger. We live in the happiest world possible, so roll a blunt, drench my worries away in vodka, turn on a movie, and hear that singing of the celestial spheres up in that logical Elysium that we call that upward space that Luna calls. Or maybe I’m a bucking poet.

But living in Ponyville has given me the real view of the world. Applejack being a workaholic, Pinkie being a friend-obsessed crazy mare, Twilight having severe OCD- oh wait- for her it is CDO, Fluttershy having anger issues, Rarity being a drama queen, and Rainbow Dash having an extreme need for attention. And that’s just the Bearers of the Elements. Faust, was that a pile of crap. Everypony was bucking insane. Just ask Discord and his fun rule of Ponyville. From stories told by the other Cutie Mark Crusaders, it was a crazy time. Applebloom being turned into a dragon, Sweetie Belle becoming a doll, and Scootaloo being a doppelganger of Rainbow Dash. And craziness ensued- but that’s not my story to tell just yet.

The dark side is a colt blinded by his own abusive mother. Its a mare raped by her own father. Its where your sister drinks herself into a coma to deal with the pain of her multiple organ failures, which were her own fault. Its where zebras are seen as different and are lynched with the whole town participating. This logic says that life is up to chance and that we are dancing to the screams of the dying.

You are forced to look at it when you are drunkenly walking through town and you are reevaluating your entire life; you look at it if your sister gets shot in the back and becomes bedridden; you look at it if a serial killer murders little colts and fillies. You look at it when your father wants to slit notches in your mother’s ears.

Chance is the name of the game and its all so logical. Science bucking backs me up. Just ask our newest bucking Princess- Twilight “no shit” Sparkle.

And its not just outside your window now. Its running in your brain right now. Its the Dark Thing, the Loony Bin, the Creepy Crawlies, the Demon. Its my own personal pet crawling through my inner darkness.

But that’s little old me. And I was talking about the society as a whole. Those Canterlot U students that were killed when they got too close to a drug deal. They got to see their lives run out between their fingers, their drug-addled minds making the experience a psychedelic mess that made this place look normal by comparison. I am a warning to the parents. I was in the Pony Press, Celestial Enquirer, and Epoch. And I plead my case before you loonies (kinda) and say that I’m a healthy piece of ass and just have a little bit wrong with me.

So how do you understand Them? That’s the million dollar question.

“Babs, do you have a office pass?”

“Yeah, here it is.” I opened my saddlebags, pulled out the gun and pulled the trigger. I forgot that I did load the thing and its bullet exploded out of the chamber and Cheerilee’s head exploded. Brain matter littered the floor and blood gushed out of her mortal wound. Her remaining eye rolled up into its socket and she slumped in her desk. She never knew what hit her. She had a smile on her face and it never left her. At least she died with a smile on her face. I already died and I remember that I wasn’t smiling. Good for her.

I’m the sane one; the drug dealer. I peddle my wares on the street corner and everypony that replies to my calling card learns a bit about themselves. Now we get to the real fun. I got to play teacher for a few hours and it was a fun little bonding experience for my classmates. Now what you have read on the news has been skewed- I had only killed two ponies, not ten as the Enquirer tried to pin me with. I know that happened cause my shit doctors like torturing me for their sick pleasure. But I learned abuse from my father so my life hasn’t changed much.

Time has slowed since I entered this Tartarus and I just replay those three seconds in my head to know it isn’t a dream. The brain is a great place. I just shut it off and go to the bucking Moon Theater and see the double feature of MY REASONS and MY ANGER up in that place, eating popcorn and chatting with the players in the play.

I just wish that straitjacket wasn’t on me now. I could finally end my suffering. From rumors between the doctors, the Princesses have disappeared after that surprise attack the Gryphons did on Canterlot. I had wondered why there had been that big explosion that woke me up a month ago. Wonder if my cousin’s ok. I guess I can’t fuck the Princesses anymore then. Here cums the Sun and all that. Haha, double entendre. Or not I really can’t fucking tell anymore. How long has it been?