Thursday, January 31st, 1003 A.B.

I don’t know how much longer I can go. For the past three days I have been in a state of constant physical and mental anguish, all because of this Tartarus-damned Itch! I want to write paragraph upon paragraph of the frustrations and pains it has brought upon me, but any phrase I attempt to concoct cannot fully describe the true force and torment this psychosis has brought upon me! At least, I think it’s a psychosis. It's not like I have sufficient data to support that claim under any sort of scientific scrutiny. Most of the “research” I do is just speculation, all because of the Itch's chemical contradictions and electrical implausibilities! Even trying to psychoanalyze this blasted malady usually leaves me frustrated over labyrinthine-circular pseudo-logic. My attempts to delve into this blasted mystery in my head are nowhere close to satisfying my personal scientific standards nor those of the scientific method. I don’t even have anypony to vet my research for crying out loud!

But I can’t let anypony else see what I’ve written, why I’ve researched. It would be the end of my life here in Ponyville. I would lose all the friends I’ve made here, break all of the close ties I’ve gained in this community. I love it here. I don’t want to leave. And that’ll be the first thing that anypony would do if they discovered the Itch - make me leave.

But I’m starting to fear that I can’t keep up this charade of normalicy much longer. Even before Monday, rumors had been going around that I was being “weirder” than usual, but the scene I made when trying to escape from Rarity no doubt cemented the idea that something’s off with me to the town’s denizens. Already over the past few days I’ve had multiple of my friends from around town show up at my door asking what’s the matter. I hate having to be evasive and close the door on them, but I don’t want them to discover the horrid truth about me. But I fear that they, and the rest of the town, just might find out soon enough.

I feel like I’m going to burst, like I’m a balloon filled with fiery hot air, and I’m about to pop. Every single second of every day and every night (for sleep is impossible for me in this state) I have been fighting to remain in control of my faculties whilst under the unpausing siege of the Itch. I can feel it chipping away at my mental fortifications, driving me mad with its agonizing echoes. I’ve tried to calm it down by consciously imagining myself violently killing ponies. I’ve spent hours looking out the window, trying to gain the slightest amount of relief with the horrid daydreams I’ve envisioned upon those I see out it, but nothing I’ve thought up works. It feels… inadequate, unreal. I couldn’t distinguish the visions from actual reality - I even believed that what was happening during them was real! - but all my tries just seem like fake fantasy, the vain tries of a deranged mare.

Deranged… I guess I can really call myself that now. First I just imagined horrible deaths without any control over them, now I consciously imaging ponies I know dying painfully just to titillate myself! What kind of sick buck am I?!?

I hate it i hate it i hate itihateitihateitihateihateihatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate I HATE IT

Graaaaaghhh! I’m about to burst under this pressure, and I don’t know what I’ll do when it happens!

...I fear what I will do when it happens.

All this time I’ve spent fighting to rid myself of this mental monstrosity afflicting my mind, one that gave me visions of myself as a killer, a deranged mare, a monster, and now… I fear I may become them.

I can’t. I can’t. I’m the personal student of Princess Celestia. I’m a hero of Equestria. I’m the Element of Magic. I’m not a monster.

I’m not a monster…

I don’t want to be a monster, but I fear I don’t have long before I do…

Signing off,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

And so, now we have Journal Entry #9. I know, it's a little bit on the short side, but it's all for dramatic effect, as you youngsters would say. Anyway, I do hope you all have enjoyed this latest, albeit pitifully short entry, and thank you for sticking with my little monstrosity of a fanfic for so long.
And of course, thank you all for liking, favoriting, commenting, disliking, skimming over, and so on and so forth. I do hope you all have a wonderful day/evening/existence.
Au revoir,
The Fruity Cousin