My note (mind the swearing)
Not an author's note, this is my note.
I truly have no idea if this will turn out to be any good. I have tried to write countless stories and have failed. Most I haven't even published. I don't even know if I will be publishing this one. But I'll be damned if I don't try. I feel something for Scootaloo, other than pity. Lauren Faust had once said that little Scootaloo was supposed to be handicapped, and can't fly, but I say that not being able to fly doesn't make you handicapped.
It can make you extraordinary. Maybe this Author's note will count towards a story I truly want to write, and is not some random spur of the moment shit I'll never touch again. I don't care who reads this, I don't care if you hate it or love it. I don't give a fucking shit about comments, I don't care about likes, or favorites, or feedback, or anything. This story comes from somewhere inside of me I had no idea I had. I'm not even sure if I'll publish it at all, whether I finish it or not. For once in my life, it feels like I have to write something, all because of something somebody said, even if that something was said by one of my heroes.
The hardest thing about everybody doubting someone because of a title, the worst pain, doesn't come from those who are mean, or those who mean to harm us, but those who have pity, when none is needed. I do not pity Scootaloo, I don't see her as disabled, or handicapped. I see greatness.
