The Unseeing

If I were to have all the time in the world, I'd have the luxury of telling you about why I choose to keep my sight. The reason why so many give themselves the pleasure, only to spend the rest of their lives longing for it, and why so many others want to take it away from us. Too bad Mr. Sahale "sensed" my thoughts as disrespectful, because I'll give you three guesses as whose two hooves were smacked with a ruler.

"Ether!" He yelled, jerking me from my lulled state in my seat, "why are you sitting there like a useless mule and not working diligently alongside your classmates!" The old Stallion loomed next to my desk in a semi threatening fashion.

Giving a wince from rubbing my newly smacked hoof I told him I was in deep thought, as I usually was whenever I became extremely bored of school lessons. The loss of concentration wasn't a new habit for me, so I suspected he would shrug it off and leave me be with my subconscious. Unluckily for me, he chose that time to embarrass me with a lecture.

"Now now young one, how many times must I ridicule you for your attention to not stay fixed in its wonderland of happy endings and childish desires?" Said Mr. Sahale. "Maybe I should have your parents take out your eyes foolish boy, and save the suffering!" He shouted, his sudden rage spiking.

I guess I should explain that last sentence.

Every single adult in Equestria, is blind. Some say it's the loss of innocence that one experiences is what causes it, but the less philosophical ponies say it has to do with Celestia's radiant sun blinding us slowly. Some have tried becoming hermits, living in the shadows, and disown Celestia's sun. Other, more creative ponies, experiment in some magics or potions, event to the extent of witchcraft, blaming her majesty's sun as a curse. For Equestrian society, blindness has become an indisputable part of life, as unavoidable as your own funeral.

My friend Rose told me that I should keep records of my life, a diary of sorts. She wants me write it in the way that I'm explaining my own life, detailing parts of it to someone who has no idea who I or even what ponies are. Her only explanation to this is perspective, and how important it is to know anyone's viewing point, even your own. It can be powerful to know another's thoughts she would tell me, goddesses she's going to be a philosopher someday.

I had been rather shocked by Mr. Shahale's comment. He's usually a strict teacher, but today I assume he's was tense.

"Nothing to say huh, smart kid," he said smugly, knowing he had succeeded in scaring me, "thought I'd have to recommend you to the masked again."

Oh boy culture alert everypony, Rose is making me explain the masked.

The masked are the young who choose at an early age to never see, which I honestly thick is stupid giving them such an important choice at such a young age. The masked probably wouldn't have any other members if parents didn't covince their children that never seeing is better that seeing and then having it taken away forever. The choice is supposed to be completely up to the child, but with parental influence the choice is rather nonexistent. It's rare that someone chooses to become "Masked" after the initial vote of a ridiculous 5 years of age.

The rest of the class passed with my eyes wide open, as if I'd seen a horror movie. The teacher had noticed my newfound diligence, very clearly happy with himself for his scare.

As school began wrapping up, I rushed into the hall to attempt to escape the crowd, but to no avail. The narrow passageway swelled with students, both regular and masked ponies, with the masked flicking their toungs, making a weird noise to "see" using something the teachers called "echo location," which I'm bewildered at how it's even possible. After a boring few minutes going through the crowd I finally made it outside to the sun supposedly dooming my sight.

My eyes adjusting to the brightness, I made my way to a familiar bench next to a dirt walkway leading away from the school. With my eyes finally adjusted I searched for Rose, one of my few friends at the school, who just happened to tolerate me (and walk home with me everyday). She came out a few minutes later, chatting with a masked student, them both laughing about something. "Rose!" I called to her, giving her a moment to turn and find me from the other ponies around. She excused herself from the other student and walked to me.

"Why were you talking to that masked student, wanting to join 'em?" I teased at her.

"Being masked is a serious thing Ether, and the sooner you know that the better off you'll be." She told me

"I know plenty about the masked, but what you don't know, is how to take a joke." I replied boldly

"Oh hush you, we need to head home before dark or we'll be here until Luna makes us sleep, so let's go." She took off towards home, not leaving me with a choice.

The walk home took longer than normal because of my "insensitivity to the masked" as Rose so tells me. She told me I had a small perspective, and didn't bother to look at how the masked rationalize their own choices. Eventually in our discussion of viewpoints, she practically had a light bulb go off above her head.

"You know Ether, I have a perfect idea as to how to get you to agree with me," she stated confidentiality.

"Five bits says you can't," I replied

"Oh you're on thickie," she said, a fire lighting in her eyes as she stopped to search around her bag, uncovering a spiral notebook. "I was going to use this for an agenda, but you'll need it for when I rub that I'm right in your face."

She tossed me the spiral, making me lunge my hoof for it and miss, giving her a giggle as I embarrassingly picked it up.

"So what's this bet about," I ask curiously, "some weird essay?"

"Not exactly," she told me, "your going to keep a diary about today, tomorrow, and every day after that until you can see what you say about others is insensitive, and then give me those bits."

"You're never getting those bits," I replied confidently, "now let's keep walking, or we'll be here until Luna makes us sleep."

Rose gave me a silly look for my mimicry.

When I arrived home she came in with me as she does most nights, to hang out until her mom comes home next door. She had me immediately work on the diary, confident her ways could change me. And as I catch up to the present moment I can agree with one thing, I'm an idiot for agreeing to this.