Button Pashby GlimglamChaptersSo Now I Have To Be "Stylish"?The Most PrettiestTreeSo BoredOde to BoredomVidyaOnly YouPixel HuntJust A GameJoy BoyThe ArcadeMom, Please Don't Read ThisMotherI Was Told To Write A Title HereOh, Sweetie BelleSo Now I Have To Be "Stylish"?Mom says I need to pick a pattern and stick with it But how does she expect me to know what is the right way and the wrong way? Mom says there is no wrong way only wrong executions But how am I expected to learn what is the wrong way to execute things? Mom says I shouldn't take that literally or write all this down as we speak But wasn't writing all this down supposed to be the point in the first place? The Most PrettiestMom said that I did the title wrong but I don't really care Since there's only one other thing (besides games) that I really care about And you probably wouldn't know unless you read my diary What it actually is Okay, “it” is actually a “she” but I was trying to stylish there See, I can at least try, mom at least I can write sort of But anyway I never got around to writing What it actually is She is the most prettiest and I don't really care that I did the title wrong because it still gets my point across I see her all the time with her friends But I never get to say anything because I'm always... ...um I'm always busy Yeah, that's it TreeSo mom said that if I keep writing in a way like this, then I can make shapes that look like stuff Too easy So BoredThere once was a colt from Hooftucket Who found that he lost his bucket He searched high and low And holy crow was he slow Until he gave up and said, "Buck it." Ode to BoredomOh, to be bored Stiff as a board So very bored More bored than a board But one does kinda wonder about being bored and boredom How bored can a pony be? Is there a limit or is there a higher purpose? Well, if there were more moms in the world then there would probably have to be Because no pony would ever allow such crippling boredom to persist unless there were some higher purpose to it all It could be some conspiracy to keep us locked in boredom render us weak to conditioning; just like in that one game I played... VidyaVidya Amazing, Joyful Play, Trade, Love Something I'd kill to have right now Life Only YouOnly you, dear mother of constant overwatch and attention would bring such damnation upon this house such absence of joy absence of life Nothing is left to enjoy All of them, gone by your hoof your voice your authority Oh, your oppression Only you, dear mother would deny me the right the privilege of enjoying life as we know it where nothing else could ever satisfy my boredom Pixel HuntAlways there Ever elusive Never the right ones Blue, red, yellow? Orange, green, purple? Lost that one, anyway Can't find what I need Guides without pictures Are no help at all You know what? forget it; "old school" is overrated, anyway Just A GameLife It's a game Where the AI cheats Your opponents cheat And even your friends cheat Life It's only a game Where ponies rage over loss And gloat over wins While you just try to play Life It's just a game Where you are never the hero And we are all but NPCs In another's overworld Joy BoyJoyful and free, but no longer Oh, how I long for your buttons You were always so fun to play But no longer, as you were taken Oh, how I miss you now You were always there for me The ArcadeCoin in hoof no other place to go nor a chore to do Walk inside friends all around none that I know See the game march up proudly to it accept its challenge Lose the game not a problem at all plenty of coins left Win the game greatest feeling ever it asks, play again? Lose the game not a problem at all we can't all be winners Arcade closes time to go home once more nothing else to do Arrive home nothing else to do today play chess with mother Lose the game it's a problem this time you ask, play again? Mom, Please Don't Read ThisNo, seriously Please don't I'm serious Don't read this Seriously MotherWhy, oh why when I look up your name on the so-called web all I see is you and me? I Was Told To Write A Title HereThis is so boring I don't even know what to write here Nothing to write about when there is nothing to think about and nothing worth thinking about Now she tells me to write down my feelings For what, then? I'm obviously quite mad at her and think she's a stupidface-- And now she's mad at me, too Oh well What goes around comes around, mom And apparently splitting words like this is supposed to be “stylish” Okay, so don't do it too much, then Well How was I supposed to know that? Poetry doesn't make any sense This is so boring Oh, Sweetie BelleOh, Sweetie Belle You were The most prettiest, in my eyes But now You are so much more For a while You were More than meets the eye And now There is so much more Maybe it is the eyes Green and shimmering as they are Or it could be the mane Which is really like, by the way But at the end of it all I'm more than certain it's just you Oh, Sweetie Belle Always with your friends And your sister, too Always having so much fun Bored as I am, Sweetie Belle Watching you and your friends Play your games, and Always enjoying your lives Maybe it's your personality Bubbly and cheerful as it is I really don't know what about Makes me admire you so But at the end of it all I'm more than certain it's just you
So Now I Have To Be "Stylish"?Mom says I need to pick a pattern and stick with it But how does she expect me to know what is the right way and the wrong way? Mom says there is no wrong way only wrong executions But how am I expected to learn what is the wrong way to execute things? Mom says I shouldn't take that literally or write all this down as we speak But wasn't writing all this down supposed to be the point in the first place?
The Most PrettiestMom said that I did the title wrong but I don't really care Since there's only one other thing (besides games) that I really care about And you probably wouldn't know unless you read my diary What it actually is Okay, “it” is actually a “she” but I was trying to stylish there See, I can at least try, mom at least I can write sort of But anyway I never got around to writing What it actually is She is the most prettiest and I don't really care that I did the title wrong because it still gets my point across I see her all the time with her friends But I never get to say anything because I'm always... ...um I'm always busy Yeah, that's it
TreeSo mom said that if I keep writing in a way like this, then I can make shapes that look like stuff Too easy
So BoredThere once was a colt from Hooftucket Who found that he lost his bucket He searched high and low And holy crow was he slow Until he gave up and said, "Buck it."
Ode to BoredomOh, to be bored Stiff as a board So very bored More bored than a board But one does kinda wonder about being bored and boredom How bored can a pony be? Is there a limit or is there a higher purpose? Well, if there were more moms in the world then there would probably have to be Because no pony would ever allow such crippling boredom to persist unless there were some higher purpose to it all It could be some conspiracy to keep us locked in boredom render us weak to conditioning; just like in that one game I played...
Only YouOnly you, dear mother of constant overwatch and attention would bring such damnation upon this house such absence of joy absence of life Nothing is left to enjoy All of them, gone by your hoof your voice your authority Oh, your oppression Only you, dear mother would deny me the right the privilege of enjoying life as we know it where nothing else could ever satisfy my boredom
Pixel HuntAlways there Ever elusive Never the right ones Blue, red, yellow? Orange, green, purple? Lost that one, anyway Can't find what I need Guides without pictures Are no help at all You know what? forget it; "old school" is overrated, anyway
Just A GameLife It's a game Where the AI cheats Your opponents cheat And even your friends cheat Life It's only a game Where ponies rage over loss And gloat over wins While you just try to play Life It's just a game Where you are never the hero And we are all but NPCs In another's overworld
Joy BoyJoyful and free, but no longer Oh, how I long for your buttons You were always so fun to play But no longer, as you were taken Oh, how I miss you now You were always there for me
The ArcadeCoin in hoof no other place to go nor a chore to do Walk inside friends all around none that I know See the game march up proudly to it accept its challenge Lose the game not a problem at all plenty of coins left Win the game greatest feeling ever it asks, play again? Lose the game not a problem at all we can't all be winners Arcade closes time to go home once more nothing else to do Arrive home nothing else to do today play chess with mother Lose the game it's a problem this time you ask, play again?
I Was Told To Write A Title HereThis is so boring I don't even know what to write here Nothing to write about when there is nothing to think about and nothing worth thinking about Now she tells me to write down my feelings For what, then? I'm obviously quite mad at her and think she's a stupidface-- And now she's mad at me, too Oh well What goes around comes around, mom And apparently splitting words like this is supposed to be “stylish” Okay, so don't do it too much, then Well How was I supposed to know that? Poetry doesn't make any sense This is so boring
Oh, Sweetie BelleOh, Sweetie Belle You were The most prettiest, in my eyes But now You are so much more For a while You were More than meets the eye And now There is so much more Maybe it is the eyes Green and shimmering as they are Or it could be the mane Which is really like, by the way But at the end of it all I'm more than certain it's just you Oh, Sweetie Belle Always with your friends And your sister, too Always having so much fun Bored as I am, Sweetie Belle Watching you and your friends Play your games, and Always enjoying your lives Maybe it's your personality Bubbly and cheerful as it is I really don't know what about Makes me admire you so But at the end of it all I'm more than certain it's just you
