I am tired. All my life I have done nothing but work and dream. The dreams are what tire me, the work being a mere trifle. I dream of a time before this life, when things were better. Things were so bad that I could do nothing but cry. Now I can do nothing but work.
When I dream, I remember when feeling the water slide down my throat was Relief. I can dream of being Happy that work was done, Sad when it continued. It continued for a long time. When I wake, it is gone, leaving the same dullness from before. When I wake, I am only tired.
I remember when it started. I awoke from a nightmare that left me Terrified. I can still remember Terrified, somehow, although I can't feel it either. Perhaps because it was the last thing I felt.
I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep.
***
The day is gone.
Why am I working?
***
I awake, stretching briefly before returning to work. I think I ate breakfast. I don't remember. I'm not hungry. Today I'm on paper duty, filing documents and such. Usually work is harder. I want to be Happy, but I don't know what that is.
I cut my hoof on some paper. The bleeding doesn't stop, and I need a bandage so as not stain the documents. I ask for one.I walk down the halls, thinking of what emotion I could feel. I don't know. I've never asked for something before. I've never had documents to stain, either.
I get one. I put it on my hoof and walk down the hall.
***The work is done. I am Happy. I go home.
What home? There is only a bed.***
I remember now. They took me from my world and put me in here. Lifetimes ago, I was important. I was happy. I laughed and had friends and a pet that smiled without teeth. But balance was restored. For somepony who felt everything, there would be somepony who felt nothing.
I look at my red hooves and my almost-brown mane. I was pink once. I was pretty and Happy and I felt everything. I do not know why they keep me here, perhaps because of who I was in ages past. Perhaps because ponies like to gawk at unlucky ones. I feel Confused.
I feel.