I find myself falling and we will die
Friends are the special ponies that make your guts smile. Equestria is gifted to know these benefits for it is what Celestia told them from the ivory tower. This love will go one until the sun sets its last evening.
Twilight and friends in the library probably gathered around a table. It is day and the light rays make it through the windows. Twilight looks over to the closest friend for convenience, Applejack.
“Well girls thank you for coming today and I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you here.”
“No,” Fkuttershy says and shifts a little, “I wasn’t.”
Rainbow Dash ignores her. “Yeah, come on I gotta go fast, spit it out.”
“Well hold your horses cowpoke,” snorts Applejack while adjusting her fedora with a hoof.
“Thanks, Applejack,” says Twilight looking at the farm mare again. She grabs the paper out of her pocket. “This is why I gathered you.” She unfolds the paper from her pocket. “I have been feeling some bad vibes lately, and they inspired me to dredge out my inner poet in response.”
“What does that have to do with books,” says one of them with a minimal annoyance.
“I swear dear, it’s like you’re a walking pigeonhole,” says Rarity. The air is scented like heavy dreams. “Anyways dear, go on with your little composition.”
“Compost,” thinks Pinkie Pie.
“Yes and now I will read it,” declares Twilight with a smile of eagerness. The heads draw near. She clears her throat as if lighting a candle. They then move away from the table during a small delay. Then Twilight Sparkle looks at each and proceeds. Then Twilight Sparkle proceeds.
“This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Nothing.
It
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.”
“Orange you glad I didn’t say Banana!” shouts Pinkie Pie. It was her reaction to the lyrics.
“Pinkie!” This is serious,” says the lavender mare.
Daylight is fading and dust motes clutter the crisp air as the girls share a moment. Rarity turns to her and smiloes. “Ooh darling, that is absolutely fabulous.”
"Goshdarn inspiring, I tell you what."
“Oh Twilight. That is so good. You should put it on Kickstarter.”
“Hubba-whah?” Twilight Sparkle does a double-take.
Rainbow Dash explains (the internet nerd) “Kickstarter is an American-based private for-profit company founded in 2009 that provides tools to raise funds for creative projects via crowd funding through its website. Kickstarter has funded a diverse array of endeavors, such as films, music, stage shows, comics, journalism, video games, and food-related projects.”
"America."
The five other ponies crowd around the speaking pony in awe and fascination. Backing a project is more than just giving money. Each and every Kickstarter project is the independent creation of somepony like you.
“Wow there is an internet website for funding?” Asks Pinkie Pie witch a scratch of her fuzzy mane. If she had a beard she would probably stroke it.
“Yes, it is what I just said,” replies Rainbow Dash as she smirks.
“Yes, this is perfect. Excellent. I can see the ideas flowing now for my designs,” says Rarity. In front of her, almost as a hallucination, she can see many different plans and dress sketches and business strategies and profits floating around the air before her. “I will, with the help of the internet, launch a new line of surely fabulous dresses.”
“Splendind,” announces Twilight. “And this is just what I need for my project of poetry.”
“Be careful not to be scammed though. That is always a danger, when on the internet.”
Applejack nods her head in agreement, “Yeppi-spaggetti, you will need your ace-high lawyers for this one. And other assorted legal varmints where necessary.”
“Cool. Then maybe you can be the one scamming for free money,” sneakily suggests Rainbow Dash.
Rarity narrows her eyes. “No, Kickstarter does not allow that in their terms of use. They will hunt you down and blow the heads off your family and your dog and squash you like a bug.”
“Then I will not do that,” explains Twilight. She takes a moment to consider the dreams of published poetry. Rarity bows her head in concession at the dreams.
Rainbow Dash looks up. “But Kickstarter is still a good source for proper funding.”
“Yes, I will get my computer and set up one and then publish twenty of my best poetics.”
“Oh my, this sounds like it calls for a celebration,” says Fluttershy, not Pinkie Pie. Pinkie Pie is quiet and busy eating a bug.
“Yes,” Twilight hugs the girls close, “In celebration I shall read another of my heartfelt poems.”
“Mommy gave me one last worm,
And pushed me from the nest.
I flapped me widdle wings
As hard as I could,
And fell down on me chest.
I see the kitty coming now,
He's ready to digest.
So I'll see you in heaven, mommy,
I know you did your best.”
A dream cannot be that which has been broken on the backs of peasants or pheasants. Always home is the bitter heart, never near heaven. And running with the wind is how Twilight began.
Beata Maria, bring me deliverance.
“A terrific bookend, says I,” says Rarity.
So the girls look at each other in rememberance of this moment, of all beautiful moments, of their ancestry, and what it means to be friends on a Sunday before the workweek starts. Still clustered, light still showing the dust motes, they smile.
“There is a bitter penguin in the crowd tonight who wants my skin on a rug in the different multi-hued shades and vibrants of the worn bearskin heart. This will surely be the tragic final reckoning of our kind.” Announces Pinkie Pie (Apparently, that never happened)
