Nightmares can haunt you forever. And sometimes they don't have to come at night. I'm starting to have trouble having my delusions not affecting me in real life. I don't think I'll ever be free from them- daytime shit involves me slitting my wrists and dying. Nighttime shit involves me getting raped.

I can flip on a word. Sometimes less than that. I flinch around anything that triggers my memories. Memories bring pain. Dreams bring pain.

I used to have a dream where I dreamed I could see everyone's naked bodies and know what they looked like excited. Blame my thirteen year old brain and porn but my imagination got so good that I could jack off without anybody being near me. It gave me something to look forward to.You know between the rape and all.

One of those dreams I saw the perfect version of me. With wings and a horn and looked like an angel- except it was a demon.

It said so.

I wrote a lot of poetry in my emo stage where I used our talks as inspiration. Dreams are a form of safety. That whole bullshit about dying in dreams is just that- bullshit. I've had sex with a lot of weird shit in my dreams and only some of them being ponies. You can get away with anything in dreams. You can be free from anyone. Be yourself.

But you know, sometimes fears can get in. It's getting harder to actually be happy anymore. My mood can shift on a bit if somepony says something, I have so much anxiety I can barely respond to letters urging me to get back in touch with the government social security place, I can't speak on the phone all that well, and thanks to my continued delusion that a cart crash that was really simple and stupid equals a pole impaling my whole family-

I don't do a lot.

Don't worry, this story might have some followers. I, the totally humble, Dinky Hooves see you. Or I think I might. I dunno.

I don't mind hate, I just want peace.

But do I deserve something like that? I messed up so many times before and thanks to me blanking out and losing time- I don't know when it is some days. Dreams are powerful. Nightmares are even worse.

I've died so many times in my dreams that I lost count, It really puts a damper on living.

Well don't worry. I'm still here and kicking. Am I really enjoying myself here at the college or whatever? Nah. But I want to be happy later. College isn't for me, it's to show that I'm not a failure.

I'm not. Even though my dreams, my family, my friends- I think they all hate me.

I'm used to it. I've always been different.

Author's Note

It does repulse me- it makes me sick.