Sitting in the Shower with Bottles of Cider

by Tezz LaCoil

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 8405

The musings of a half-drunk pony who thinks relatively clear despite the slight inebriation.

The musings of a half-drunk pony who thinks relatively clear despite the slight inebriation. All while in the shower. The world's a strange place. These are his personal writings, unscripted, unedited in most cases, and completely his own. The opinions therein are not up for discussion with the writer.

Published 2014-01-29 14:50:05 UTC
Last updated 2017-12-12 23:15:43 UTC

Faceless

Faceless.

I am figuratively... faceless. Just another pony who is stuck in a world where everything that's amazing happens to ponies other than myself. Even little things. Things like love. Things like living. I am boring, but not because I want to be. No, I'd be spontaneous, fun, and adventurous if I weren't afraid of losing everything and ending up with nothing at all.

It's just so easy for everypony to say: Go out and follow your dreams without planning, without making sure you HAVE a future when you get back from whatever soul searching you plan to do.

I'd rather not come back to nothing at all.

Though my situation is not much better. I go to work, pull the nine-to-five, and come home to an empty house with barely enough bits to keep the small apartment I live in under lease. I suppose it could be worse, right? There are some ponies out there who have no homes, or have spent the past thousand years or so in slavery, spirited away from the world. Even then, though... somepony went out and saved them from a low life of servitude and disharmony.

Where's my saving grace?

I've worked hard too! My home was a broken one and my grades were good... up until that last year in school. Nothing challenged me there, so I slacked. It didn't do me any good in the long run. Still, I went off and joined the Equestrian Royal Guard, so I could find something that could challenge me... which... didn't go to well. I was a smart pony in a world where ponies aren't the type to revere intelligence. So... obviously that went just great.

Eventually I quit, went out and got a job at the train station, moving cargo around. I didn't have any skills from my time in that translated to something that could be useful on the outside world, away from the regimented lifestyle of a Royal Guard. I kind of wish I were like that one fella... what was his name? Shining Armor? Everything just seemed to fall in place for him, the lucky sod. Even got himself a pretty little wife. I hear they rule that kingdom I mentioned earlier somewhere way up north.

So I've come home... Again. Same time as always after the same kind of work every day with the same jerk of a supervisor looming over me like an insurmountable obstacle. I always do my best, but... bad things always seem to happen around me, or I just get caught up in picking up everypony else's slack that I forget some of my own duties.

I work hard, okay? I just... I don't know how NOT to work hard. How to relax and not try to do EVERYTHING if I know nopony else is going to step up to the plate if I don't. The new stallions are mostly lazy, with the exception of one or two. The ones that aren't completely lazy don't have the motivation or drive to meet the standard, but we're so short on ponypower that we can't afford to get rid of them! So I'm stuck picking up the slack and trying to teach them things over and over again that they have already been taught. Meanwhile, because somepony decided not to close a boxcar before it went off to the next station, a certain pony who just HAPPENED to be under my hoof as a trainee, I get yelled at and told to 'shut the buck up' by a supervisor when I try to explain that I did a follow up and none of the cargo, by some miracle, had been lost on the way to the station. I'm not supposed to have to BABYSIT these stallions! They're old enough to remember the basics of their job. For Celestia's sake, they've been at it for a MONTH now.

Just close the Moon-damned door when you get done with inventory! It's STANDARD. PROCEDURE. Taught from DAY. ONE!

But I got blamed for it. And it's always like that.

But it's okay. The jerks that hired me know they can yell and bluster all they want, but they can't fire me. They don't document anything properly anyways, and even if they did, they'd be screwed without me and they know it.

Not only that, but I finally got home. I said that already... didn't I? Did I?

Whatever... I'm happy. I'm in the shower... the warm, almost scalding water flowing over me, a bottle of cider in one hand... and another bottle of cider in the other. The only thing that could make it better would be a sweet-smelling cigar.

Oh... did I mention? I'm pretty young for a stallion... and life's taken a turn like this already. I figured this kind of unhappiness only happened to older ponies, but now I'm guessing that it just starts here.

... and just never stops.

I could probably do better for myself. In fact I know I could, but I just don't have the motivation after work. After working hard and being mentally beaten down for my efforts every day, it just takes the energy out of me. I have a huge aptitude for magical matrices... and I could probably get a job maintaining the spell matrix that protects the sewers, residents' locks, power systems, and other things in Ponyville if I really got into studying... I mean, I even have a book about that! A whole book, and it covers absolutely everything a pony could want to know about the subject! I could learn it... but... I don't know... I'd rather just sit around and stare at the sky after work...

But you know what? Thank Celestia for the little things. Sweet Apple Cider is really the only thing I have in life any more to make things seem not so bad.

I'm gonna rest for a while now. Maybe write some more later... sure glad I bought this waterproof booklet. Didn't even know they existed until I stumbled on a crate of them at a Winter-Wrap-Up after-season sale a few months back.

Poverty Lines

Ah, another day of tasteless, stale-cracker-like work complete.

Another day of wasted time, earning pay that barely allows me to scrape above the "poverty line" of Ponyville. With the places I've been and the things I've seen though... I don't think "poverty" is the proper word. To me, poverty means wondering if you'll have food tomorrow, clean water the next. Sometimes it means wondering if you'll have any of that at all.

The water is nice and warm again... I had to wait earlier. The dishes needed to be cleaned and I had to use most of my undersized water heater's warm water to clean them. So I felt a bit agitated needless to say. How dare a lack of hot water prevent me from the one true solace I have in this miserable little world with its droll, adventureless happenings? How dare it? At least I have warm water now, though.

I'd rather sit here instead focusing on a possible adventure... because, like I said, money builds adventure these days. Bits. Bits. Bits. It's all anypony talks about. I make enough to live comfortably compared to some of the griffons and zebras to the north and east of Equestria. Life there is so much worse, and nopony here even really comprehends it. Daddy and Mommy don't send your happy little flank through college or give you that toy you wanted for Christmas and immediately "life sucks."

I know I sound oxymoronic. Here I am complaining about not having any adventure in my life, and at the same time griping about how much ponies don't really GET what poverty is. What a mess I've become. What a mess I am. Oh well, it's not as if there's anypony relying on me for support. Morally or financially. Thank Luna's Moon.

Speaking of dependency... what the tartarus is up with couples...? They always start of slobbering all over each other and saying that "we'll always work through this... it's just money right?"

Bah.

It's just money...

Money makes the damned bucking world go round. Charity or War. Business or Pleasure. Lovers or Friends. It's gonna start looking REAAAAL nice when there's no food on the table for that hungry marefriend or stallionfriend's tummy and you look like a sap because your job doesn't pay jack-squat because YOU didn't put YOURSELF through college by taking the initiative and reaching out for those free programs that Celestia keeps yammering on about every time I see her with young ponies at the university or when she's outside at the schoolhouse.

Not only that, but ponies don't 'work things out' anymore. There's just so many options, so many ponies to choose from. If you're 'too good' for 'this treatment' or 'this level of living' you just trot off and find somepony else. It ain't hard.

But it's damn shallow.

I'm getting worked up over nothing though... you know?

Sweet Celestia this cider tastes great... I'm glad I bought a whole bunch before the season was over. It's just a tart, sweet flavor that Sweet Apple Acres crate has in it.

It'd be ironic if I drowned in the shower.

"I drank myself to death" and other lines come to mind. It's kind of funny really.

"He drowned his troubles in cider!"

That's a good one. I'll have to save it for when some poor shmuck does exactly that, just to be a smartflank.

I know what you're thinking though... "If you're so poor, then why did you buy all that cider? You could have spent it on something else, something that you needed!"

Got two words for you: Buck. Off. I'm not poor, I was just using that as a springboard for this writing. If you didn't catch that, then shove off and go catch a disease or something.

I'm sour and don't care.

Poverty is relative. Ponies here in Ponyville, and most of Equestria have food, water, safety. They can go to school, read, write, and play in the sun. I've been places where you can't. Places where little fillies and colts get whisked away in the night to unspeakable horrors and places. Places the average pony'd never even know was a place. Places that everypony talks about, but has never been to, never experienced. It's all just so INFURIATING. Here I've got the truth, but everypony's so blind that it doesn't even matter. Any Royal Guard who's been sent "on an away trip" can tell you.

But they probably won't. And neither will I, even if you ask. In fact, unless you're reading this... you probably won't even know what to ask or how!

And here's why: Ponies like me gave up our veil for the truth, so we could protect that lie that keeps everypony safe and happy back home. We swore not to bring that truth back with us too.

But that's for another time.

My point is, as this wonderful and amazing water splashes down on my face and muddles my ability to write by getting in my eyes, that life in Equestria ain't bad. There's no such thing as the kind of poverty I've seen, the kind of hopelessness I've witnessed.

And don't go around asking why we didn't help them... because if we did, your happy little world wouldn't be able to exist, 'cause the resources just aren't there. Trust me, I wanted to, we wanted to. One nation cannot support two. It just doesn't work!

But... it's so important... You gotta know: Your own people always come first, 'cause you don't know what those other people are gonna do when they aren't focused on being unhappy. They might want more, and then keep taking when it ain't their turn or when they become too lazy to want to earn it, shamelessly, like leeches from Froggy Bottom Bog.

This is depressing. But you know, it's also kinda liberating... admitting you know what's going on, and not giving a buck about it one way or another. Cause you know... you can know all the truths in the world, but unless you got somepony else who believes... well...

... it might as well be a lie.

Father

Sitting in the Shower, With Bottles of Cider

'

"Father"

It's hard to make this stuff interesting, and I don't even know why I bother. Nopony's gonna read this. I don't want anypony to read this. Water flows, tubs drain, and sister... I drink cider.

Heh.

Anyways...

When I was born, I was the problem. Mother and Father, as I look back now on my own life, were not ready for a child. They also weren't ready for the strain it would put on their finances and relationship.

Funny, my last rant was about money.

And I'm proof.

But it gets so much better. SO much better!

Not only were they not ready financially, nor was their relationship ready, but I was born... different. My brain was... broken, so to speak. I wasn't the child my mother was hoping for, and I wasn't the child my father was ready to raise. I was angry, just being born. I was sick and unhappy even as a baby. It's like I knew that I was being dragged into Tartarus right out of the gate and didn't want to be a part of it. There was just something wrong with me that made me different as I grew up. I was smarter than many of my peers, but I was also more awkward, because I knew things that they didn't care about and I didn't care for the things that the average foal did.

But you know, my mother loved me anyways, insisting that I be kept and loved and cared for.

For this, I am, or should be, eternally grateful.

My father, however... he didn't want much to do with me. His father was similar, but much more harsh. As a result, my father raised me the way he knew, which was to say from a distance. Or not at all. He was either always working, or always sleeping. The few times I can remember him actually engaging me were not bad, except when I was doing something wrong (which was almost always.), but they were so few and far between that I almost feel like it would have been better to have had him never even looked in my direction at all. At least then I could hate him wholeheartedly.

Sounds harsh, doesn't it?

You know, it is, but that's just how I am. If you don't like it, you can quite literally eat dirt for all I care. You probably shouldn't be reading this anyways, because nopony should be able to read this. Nopony.

I know I shouldn't hate him... but I...

That'll come later...

But you know, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up? I wanted to be a Royal Guard. I wanted so much to be a Royal Guard that up until the last year of my basic schooling, I had my hair cut Guardpony style. Short, in other words. Against my mother's wishes, I went immediately into the Royal Guard. I wanted to be a scout. So I became one. And I failed. Miserably.

I don't want to remember that anymore, though. I want it to go away, and leave me alone so I can move on and forget. It's why I sit here in the shower, and drink. So I can forget and maybe some day move on and do better things.

I'm being constructive with my destruction.

Anyways... up until I was fifteen, my father barely even paid attention to me, and then left my mother for another mare. Walked away from me and my little brother when we needed him most. Gone. Just like that. Sure, we were made to go visit him every weekend in some flank-buck part of Equestria, but he was always working, or busy, or sleeping. And he was single. There's no excuse for that. There's no excuse for ignoring my brother and I!

And two years later, he married.

To his highschool sweetheart.

Essentially, he took on a new family, and replaced me and my mother with a daughter and a new wife.

I love my stepsister.

But whatever. I don't see them anymore. I do my best to not bother with them. My father has... suddenly, taken an interest in my life.

And you know what he tells me? How I'm failing constantly, how it's his JOB to raise me.

I'm twenty. Bucking. Three. I served my time in the Guard, I've moved out of his home, I've left him behind, and all of a sudden, it's his JOB to make sure that I have all the knowledge I need to succeed?

I don't even have words to describe my rage.

I'm doing better than HE was at my age. I've already exceeded him, moved past him!

Buck him! Buck him and his new family! Except my sister...

I can't say I blame my father... though... the stallion was young and stupid. He didn't want a problem child. He wanted to pretend like I didn't exist, and that's the natural reaction. In the wild, those who stand out die, or are eaten or abandoned. We ponies are no better, difference scares us, change boggles our minds.

And those who aren't like everyone else are left alone, to fend for themselves.

Equestria be damned and my father with it.

I'll be better than him, given the chance. I'll be a damn good father... if I ever get the chance. I won't hide like he did.

I'm going to rest now... I'm just so tired of it all. Tired of being accused of being a failure when nearly everypony around me has so many more issues and has made so many more mistakes than I have. I've been careful. I've changed who I was to survive in this society. All the things that the docs told my parents as I was growing up, all the things they said I'd have trouble with... they were right. Except... I have a job, and I keep it. I hate it, and I hate those who I work with and I hate all the ponies I see on the street...

...but can I really be blamed when being different was the only crime I've ever committed and I've been punished for it since day one by my own family, then my peers, and finally my co-workers?

Can I even blame myself?

I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest... and while it doesn't make me feel any better now, I just know that some day I won't have to answer to him ever again about success. Someday I'll be able to tell him to buck off and leave me alone so I can actually enjoy existing.

I guess I don't really hate him... I just don't think he deserves my love as a son. I hope... I hope that he learns from what I'm trying to teach him so that he can make up for the time he lost avoiding me with my little brother... If anything, my brother deserves that much. To have a real father...

... I want more cider...

Island

Sitting in the Shower, With Bottles of Cider

"Island"

Sometimes... I like to plug up the drain and let the hot shower water pool so I can lay down in it like a bath, while taking a shower. There's really nothing else like it, but it's a big, massive waste of water...

I'd suppose this is the part where I should care, right?

I don't, and I'll tell you why.

Because I'm a motherbuckin' ISLAND. I float in this stuff and don't even care.

Lemme' explain. Know that old saying: No stallion is an island of himself? I call that a misunderstood lie. Sure, no stallion is an island upon himself initially, and maybe not completely... but that's kind of what happens when somepony says something that sounds wise but really, actually is just a blanket statement for describing the average.

But what if somepony isn't average? What if they're different?

I'll say this... I'm an island of myself. I don't rely on anypony else for my food, water, moral support, love, happiness, or anything else. Everything that I am, is my own doing. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I support myself in every way. When things get down and dirty, I have to deal with it without a shoulder to cry on, without anyone I can actually talk to. There's nopony at home waiting for me when I get there, and there's no Celestia that I can pray to.

Some ponies are just meant to be examples. Some ponies are just meant for other ponies to learn from, then be discarded by life as their own life comes to an end. It's been called an empty existence by many.

But in emptiness comes revelation, and contention.

And I am content.

If somepony can learn how not to have lived, in the event that I fail my own goals, then at least it all meant something.

I don't need anypony else. I don't need them to live or survive.

But it'd sure be nice.

Mares

Mares

Y'know... It's been a while since I sat here in this tub with my bottles of cider... but after today, I think it's just as well that I do. It's the only place I can really hear myself think anymore.

Somepony might ask why. I'll tell ya' why...

Mares.

It's always mares, though ain't it? It's always mares... And that's the most untrue statement I've ever written. 'Cause y'know what? It's NEVER mares. Lemme explain.

I'm a 23 year old stallion with a good head on my shoulders, a wagon, a home, and a future ahead of me. I don't look half bad, I know it! I've got a few scars 'cause life wasn't so easy on me sure, but they aren't exactly BAD. I mean... I'm no Blueblood, sure... but I've got that rustic charm of an adventurer. Right?
Right.

Well then, shouldn't it be easy for a stallion like me to get a pretty little mare friend to spend his time with? To dote on just a little? To cuddle with on cold nights? Yeah! It should be.... but it ain't...

Everypony says... just be yourself. Just be who you are and somepony will come along and make things all better. In my 23 years there has never been a point that I wasn't myself. I feel like life's too short to be anypony I'm not. The problem is... that I AM myself. Even when I'm calm, I give off this vibe, I think. I speak my mind and don't often care about the consequences. Whoever's reading this has probably heard that before. It's a sign of something or other, and I really don't care. I hold a steady job and am a functioning member of society, dammit. That's better than some ponies can say! I even do my job WELL, and I hate it! What's that say about me?

I dunno.

But I do know it isn't FAIR. I work hard and try to get my mane cut real nice, brush my coat and teeth, and do all the things that I should do to attract a pretty mare... and I ask them out too! They give me their number, tell me to call 'em, or whatever... and I do...

... and then nothing. They never answer or call back... it's that way every time. Like bein' slapped in the face after bein' smiled at real nice. It's like they can tell that something just isn't right, so they give me the number to make me go away... that's just not fair. I really want to find a special somepony. I really do. Somepony to share the adventures I'm sure to have with. Maybe even settle down with some day. But I can't even get past step one, so who am I kiddin'... It's always gonna be this way.

Normally I'm fine with that... you know? Normally I can go about my life and revel in the fact that I've just got SO MUCH money laying around that I can't even spend it all on things I want... I've got all the newest stuff, except for my wagon, it's a bit beat up... but it's paid off, you know? Got new wheels and axles and everything... just a little beat up. I've got no debts either... just bits, bits, bits. So I know I've got a good head on my shoulders... at least financially.

And I care about ponies... I'm just not a bleeding heart that doesn't believe in hardship. I've had my fair share and it's made me the stallion I am today. Successful, financially stable, and moving forward in life. I'm even heading to university soon!

So why is it that scummy stallions from downtown can just pull smart, pretty mares off the street and instantly ruin their lives with a foal they don't even claim as their own or a bad relationship that'll leave them a shell of their former selves...?

... and is there gonna be anypony left for me when they're through...?

Sometimes I think I should just go to bars and solicit myself to random mares... it works for so many other ponies, and at least then I can pretend like I've got a loving partner... for the hour or two she sticks around. But then I might catch something ill from them and be stuck with it for the rest of my life, or create a life in one of those mares that I'm not ready to handle...

... I just want somepony to care about and be cared about in return...

... maybe this is just the way it's supposed to be... Maybe this is my lot in life... to learn how to be loveless and to... to what? That's the real question...

Maybe I'll just drown in this bathtub some day and it'll be like that one mare they found in a shed who disappeared for six years and noponyy knew she was gone. Found her all mummified in her shed and stuff, totally undisturbed. Bills paid, lawn kept up by neighbors. But so alone and efficient that no one even knew she was gone....

... maybe that'll be me. At least then I'll have some peace at last, I hope.

...'course, I'd never let that happen intentionally... I'm too much of an ornery bastard to go the easy way out... I'll stay alive until something kills me the third time... just to spite Equestria and everypony who ever discounted me for less than I'm really worth.

Death and Afterlife

Death and Afterlife

(While listening to 'Carribean Blue' and 'Pax Deorum' by Enya)

Last time I drank in the shower... I remember saying something about dying. I wanna set something straight...

I don't wanna die. But I don't think I'd fight it if I found myself mortally wounded. It's not that I don't like livin'... I do. There's a lot to do here, bein' alive and stuff, but... I guess I'm interested in what comes after it all.

Some ponies say nothing comes after this. Sometimes I'd like to side with them. If there's nothing after this... then it makes it so much easier to just do whatever I want, you know? I could just do anything I wanted to. But when I think about it... I don't know what I'd do if I did whatever I wanted... I don't think I'd do anything differently. I'd still work hard.... help ponies when I could... I'd still have joined the Equestrian Guard...

And I'd still view sex as an act of intimacy and trust. It's the only reason I don't just go out and put my flare in whatever moves or has a heartbeat. It's something special... I feel.

So... I don't think I'd be any more free if I didn't believe in some sort of deity that's floating around up there somewhere, past the moon and the clouds.

But then... what do I believe?

I've thought about it a lot... sometimes in bed, cold and alone. Sometimes here, in the shower, under the warm embrace of magically heated waters. Sometimes when I'm at work, sitting around with nothing to do. What do I believe...? Why do things keep happening in a way that prevents me from doing the things I want to when other ponies are just given whatever they need to accomplish their goals, or are set up in a way to do it as if out of a film or a book?

Often I've come to the conclusion that it really IS just about me. Through some twist of celestial circumstance, I'm the butt of a cosmic joke, or some kind of sitcom. Or maybe I'm being punished for some kind of crime, and living in this life is the sentence. Maybe I have to find some way to learn a lesson about something I did or didn't do, should or shouldn't have done. But I don't get any clues because I have to figure it out by myself... maybe because whatever powers that be are trying to figure out if I'm worth saving, or if I'm just innately and evil, broken pony. Maybe I'm alone because I betrayed my loved one. Maybe I'm not successful because I WAS at one point and used it in a way that hurt other ponies. Maybe if I can find out what I did wrong and prove I can do better next time, I'll be set free from these ridiculous bonds and allowed to truly live again...

But that's egocentric.

So... I've also thought to myself... what if it's all a test... some sort of admission price for getting a chance to really live after I'm dead? Do I have to believe in Celestia and Luna as goddesses... or can I just be a good pony and do my best in the best way I can?

But then... I've come to the conclusion that there's something even bigger than they are.

I believe... in a creator, or creators... something that's there that made everything we see. Not because I WANT to believe it, but because the evidence is compelling, and to have conscious beings even exist would be a waste if not to catalogue them and utilize their experiences beyond some simplistic 80 year lifespan. It just seems like a massive waste for this to be 'it.'

But I'll write about that later... I want to write about the big-creature-upstairs right now.

When I look around... I start seeing things that don't make sense. Everything's just all to convenient. I mean.... if I were the universe, I'd probably just be like... squares? Why squares? Buck that... everything is now round! Why? Most efficient shape. There wouldn't be any of this chaos-theory stuff. The universe probably wouldn't have set itself up to allow life to begin with because its inefficient. At least, it probably wouldn't have done it on its own. There's evidence of direction everywhere... from the trees to the way clouds float. It all seems to have an order usually, but then something freakish happens to make you reconsider that order. You might say "chaos theory" but... why? Where did that chaos come from? And what about when stuff's NOT doing something freaky? What then?

I'm just saying... it's something to consider... I know I have...

But then... nopony should be reading this... so I guess nopony will be considering it on my account.

Then what do I think comes after everything is over? Again, it's something I've thought about... a lot. I like to think that it's a place where we're finally in control of who we are... really. Like... if we want to change something about ourselves, it's as simple as clapping our hooves together. That's what I think the afterlife must be. A world where... or a place where... you can be as awesome or as relaxed as you like. A place where love never grows old or stale... where the possibilities are as endless as your imagination. But then... I also think it's a place where it's easy to learn everything, but you still have to learn... you know... so you don't get bored by suddenly knowing everything. I like to think also... that it's a place of endless wonder, where you can travel in any direction and never see it all and never cease to be amazed. A place where adventure is around every corner if you want it to be, and those adventures are as marvelous as any we could have here in Equestria.

Finally... I have a few thoughts on death itself...

It's not a big deal to me. I've already been dead twice. No kidding. I've experienced clinical death twice. My heart stopped and my lungs ceased, and I was there for it. I remember it. I was... terrifying the first time. Kinda painful... but it didn't last long. I don't remember what happened when I was dead, though... I remember the world melting away... but I'm not sure what I saw after that. The second time it happened, I fought off the blackness... stayed awake. I thought... I though to myself that I wouldn't let it take me so easily this time. I fought it off. Since then... I've never been knocked out, even after serious beatings or being hit by things on accident. I've nearly drowned three times, even, on a side note.

I don't know what to make of it. But... I guess death doesn't scare me so much. I know what's coming. I know what to expect.

I'm starting to sober up... I should... Maybe I should go to bed... But I do so love the water... It's strange that I've had such terrible experiences with it... but I feel so safe within the depths, especially swimming under it all at a lake or a pool. I think I'll stay here a little while more...

Author's Note

Had to fix an error. Ponies don't have fingers. Derp.

First Rain

Sitting in the Shower, With Bottles of Cider

First Rain

I'm not in the shower today. I'm in the rain... which is technically a shower.

I smelled rain for the first time in months. Heavy, wonderful rain. Snow has a smell too, but nothing like rain.

Nothing like the first rain of the season.

Spring is here at last.

Most ponies ran inside, taking cover from the wet... but my job has me outside all the time... so any coldness that I might have felt... I was prepared for it. As I stared up at the sky, I... felt content for the first time in a long time. Drops landed on my snout... and I didn't care. For once, all was just... as it should have been. Rain has an indescribable smell... It's almost sweet. Like sugar.

Rain must be the tears of happiness of an Equestria that is ravaged by harsh winters, for this winter was particularly so.

I...

You can't see my tears here, in this rain. I am so... content... it's wonderful.

For once I... I'm at peace. It doesn't even matter that I've spent my life alone. I'm just here... with the ground and the earth. The sky, clouds and the rain.

I just... am.

And that's alright.

I think I'll sit here a little longer... close my eyes... and let it fall.

Friendship?

Sitting in the Shower with Bottles of Cider

Friendship?

It is not raining, instead the sky has taken on a sunny perspective. I don't particularly like it, but the air sure is warm and pleasant. There are many smells that I haven't experienced before as well... they must be pretty strong too... since my sense of smell freaking sucks.

I quit my job a few days back... I've saved up enough money to go to school, at least until the Equestrian Service Mandate kicks in. It'll pay for 36 months worth of school, allowing me to do a job like... say... be an engineer? I think that's what I want to do. I want to work outside and make things, so I figure being an engineer is one way to do that and still make decent bits.

But that's not why I'm writing today...

As you probably know... if you're reading this, that is... and pray I don't find you, I spent a lot of my life moving around... so I don't make friends easily, nor is my trust freely given. What was the point in making friends if they were going to disappear into the sands of time right after you made them? Rarely did I have time to make the good memories that so many ponies tell their foals about. So I never bothered, especially since when I did, I was often betrayed or used. That doesn't happen any more, though. I just don't let it happen. I demand respect before friendship.

Anyways... while I was at my job, unloading cargo, loading cargo, making sure everything was in order, I met a plethora of varying personalities, most of which I at least founded an amicably neutral co-existence with. That being said, we didn't get along all the time, but always found enough in common to finish the job and forget any transgressions to be replaced with laughter and jokes shortly thereafter. I even found a few whom I looked up to for their life experience and, despite some of their revealed history, outlook on life after having survived their trials.

I had thought I would be happy to be free of the job, considering some of the ponies working there were particularly lazy.

But I'm not.

I mean, I'm not happy, that is.

Not only am I now bored as all Tartarus, but I'm missing the daily company of those whom I worked with. The hoofbumps and greetings, the different personalities and experiences. It bothers me that I do miss them, but it also doesn't. One might ask why... and I'll tell you.

I used to pride myself on self-sufficiency. I still do, but it was ingrained in all aspects of my life. Even the social ones. Now that I've had a taste of what... friendship... might actually be... I kind of want more.

So is it friendship? Is that really what I was experiencing? I guess I figured that the guard life was how things were supposed to be, with ponies hating each other, but working together any ways because that's what was required to survive. It's all I've ever known. Growing up, it was the same way because I was always the new foal on the block, except without as much 'jolly cooperation.'

What changed? Was it the ponies? Was it me?

IS this friendship?

Dog Tags

It has been a very long time... since I last in this basin with a cold cider in hoof. I have been gone for so long, I don't even remember who I was back then. I dare not open the book to old pages, lest I be reminded.

I remember not liking who I was, not liking the hooves I was assigned. I remember my mane being shaggy, dirty, my eyes dark with weariness. These things are kept in the pages before the one I write now. Locked away.

Where they belong.

I have since been on a long journey. I have crossed mountains. I have trekked fields. I have loved. Lost. Loved again. I have muddied my hooves with new jobs... been hungry, been thirsty... But the one thing I cannot forget, cannot let go of... is my dog tags. You see...

I was a Royal Guardsman. Not a particularly good one. Just... adequate. Banged up, mistreated by fellows. It's in the past. But still, the dog tags around my neck remind me of who I was, and who I'm not. They jingle as I walk, they sway in time with me, always keeping up. My lover has worn them, and I can smell her perfume on their surface sometimes, when she deigns to wear some. Those tags have my name on them... they contain the scars of a life ill-lived. They have seen me drink, be horrible, and stare down the cliffside as I prepared to jump.

But then... they reminded me not to jump. The wind jangled them just enough to remind me of where I had come from, what I stood for. I backed away. Since, I went back to work. Many places hired, but none felt right. I got stuck, and there they were again to remind me that I was worth more than just to be another Mercenary. So I left that life again. The hours of staring at parking lots, looking out for trouble. Gone. A new life presented itself to me.

I became a worker. A laborer. My hooves are dusty today, and muddy on rainy days. My eyes sting with sweat every day, and my mane is matted from my helmet and the perspiration from beneath. It is similar to being a Guard, Royal or otherwise... But here I am free. I am outside of a box, and the place I chose to work is that which *I* myself chose. Not out of necessity, but out of whim. The dog tags still accompany me.

There are few things quite so precious.

And few things have ever made me happier.

Talk Too Much

It has been three years.

Three years since I last wrote in this mini diary. About which I cannot even remember, and do not care to. Three years since I last sat in the shower with a bottle of cider in hoof, only to stare pensively at the inside edge of the tub as the water collected around me.

Three years since I fell in love.

And one month since I fell out again.

A lot has changed, but much has remained the same. I dropped out of Canterlot University. I left being a Security Guard for private interests. I became a 'technician' for the new and old magio-electric lines that run underground beneath most major towns and cities.

Or rather, I've become an apprentice.

Like most of the jobs I have chosen, like most of the lives I have lived, this one is difficult. Filled with difficult ponies who don't really have the capability to be either empathetic, nor understand that which is beyond their own snouts. I have made every effort to the best of my ability to do as they desire. To follow in their hoofsteps. The more I try, it seems, the worse I fail.

"Lighten up." They said. So I did, and they were displeased by the result.

"You speak too much." they then told me, and so I spoke less, and they could not understand.

So I went silent, and the cycle repeats. One might think: "Perhaps you should seek middle ground."

Ah, but there is none. There is no middle ground. They wish to banter AT you, but not with you. They wish you to be HAPPY, and show it, but never express it. To be mindlessly 'happy' with your lot, and to fight without fighting. To be a circular being upon which they can dump their waste and distaste for their own lives and the lives of others.

It is ridiculous.

They are ridiculous.

I am ridiculous.

Clearly it is 'I' who do the wrong thing. Everypony else gets the picture. Everypony else understands. Everypony else is in harmony.

Except. Me.

It is no coincidence that I keep a 'defensive spell of immolation' near my desk, where I spend much of my time after slaving away in pits, and beneath basements and crawlspaces. That after a day of being told that 'I lack common sense,' when I did not grow up doing this job, nor jobs like it, I stare at it, wondering if I should activate it. Speak those words, and...

... Be gone forever.

You cannot be unhappy if you are not here. You cannot speak if you are always out of earshot.

It is a powerful spell. Quick. Nearly painless. Almost always fatal. Meant to take out an aggressor. However, it is equally as good at destruction of an enemy... as it is in the injury, maiming, and purging... of one's self.

It is not a spell to be considered lightly under any circumstance.

This is not a plea for assistance. This is not a cry for help. I do not want pity.

I just want someone to hear. To consider their actions the next time they have to deal with a person such as myself. To perhaps consider that there is more to the picture than a stallion...

...who talks too much.

Ah, but who am I kidding? No one will ever hear. No one will ever care. We are all but one drop amidst a sea of anguish...

... and we will be swept away by the roaring tide, into silence.

Always Different Ways

Sitting in the Shower, With Bottles of Cider

Walks

I went out today. I wasn't working, so I decided to go for a walk, even though I could have gone by Auto-Carriage. Everyone has one nowadays. Didn't you know? Powered by magical fire and steam or something.

Who cares?

I like walking. If only there were more time in a day, I'd walk everywhere. Sure... I have to walk alone, but it's peaceful. Even more so since there are no ponies walking around anywhere most of the time these days. I walk for miles, usually with a backpack one. Sometimes I imagine that I'll meet a lover that way some day... but the strangest thing always happens.

Wherever I walk... everypony else is always going the other way, if I see anypony at all.

I mean, not always... but when somepony DOES happen to be going my way, the either turn away, or turn down another path. It's so strange.

It's also typically mares who do this.

Are they afraid of me?

Are ponies afraid of me because I have a pack on and a hat, and am trotting down the road?

How am I supposed to meet a special somepony if they always run the other way?

I don't look at them in any special way. Sometimes I smile, just as a friendly greeting, raise my hoof to my hat, and keep moving. They pass on by, usually. Nopony's ever talked with me, really after that. But the strangest thing always happens. They look over their shoulder and disappear down the nearest road. Every time. I know this is true partly because I've looked over my shoulder too... but part of the time I don't bother until I'm sure they're passed the next available road...

...And you know what?

... almost 90% of the time, they're gone by the time I look back.

What's a stallion supposed to do for meeting somepony if he can't even pass by a mare without her taking off for the hills in the most non-insulting way possible?

I really should just give up, shouldn't I?

Love and Worry

It's been a long time, hasn't it?

The last time I wrote in this waterproof journal... I was a very different pony. The alcohol hasn't changed, but a lot of other things have.

I found a marefriend. A special somepony. She's wonderful, beautiful. Quirky. Perfect. Except... one thing. And it isn't that she cleans dishes with wubs, either. It's her confidence. She's an Earth pony in a family of Unicorns... so she's got this confidence issue. Sweet Luna, do I love her... but she's got not an original thought in her skull sometimes, and insists that mares are supposed to be submissive to stallions, and defer to their judgement, even when teaching!

Are we not ruled by our matriarchs? Even outside the capitol, who raises the young fillies and colts? The mother does. She puts her values into them, while the father keeps them in line so they might learn. If anything, she is more qualified to teach and to lead than any stallion I know in the field she so desires to be in! She's certainly smart enough to do so! But then... she doesn't have the confidence, and I'm trying so hard to give her that, to lend her mine. I know she can be so much more than she is, if only she had enough happiness and support in her life from someone like her... an outcast.

From me...

And I've given her that. And I'll keep giving her that until I have no more left to give!

But horses' hooves! What if she never gets it? What if my lovely little mare just... doesn't understand, no matter how much I love her and support her? What if she never gains that confidence...? That fire of spirit that I can barely see flickering, threatening to go out? I won't be able to put up with that...

Not when she gallops through the brambles and cuts herself up on purpose for only Celestia knows what reason...! I worry she's going to get cut too deep one day and loose a hoof to infection! I keep trying to tell her not to do it... but she came crying to me today, saying she might go running again! I think I stopped her... there were no new wounds on her hooves today when she visited.

I'm trying so very hard... I love her so very much... but today drove me to drink... weak as I am.

Perhaps that's why I cannot convince her to stop, to be confident... because both run through brambles in different ways... because I am the same.

I think I'll sit here... in the steam for a while, to clear my head of these thoughts, and hope that Luna invades my dreams to give me the answers I could not find at the bottom of a bottle.