Lucky And The Search For Friends.

June 1 2015

Dear Diary

Hello there diary, my name is Lucky Raindrops, and I'm writing in this sweet new journal diary I found! It looks like someone's already written in this, but there's still plenty of empty pages, so I still have plenty of room left to write down all of my wonderful insights of life in the pages remaining! So a pleasure to meet you diary, and I hope we become good friends!

Ha! Had you all there for a second didn't I? For a second it seemed like I was a completely different pony, didn't it? Well it’s still technically me Lucas Tracy. But at the same time it is a different person pony writing in this journal now. Kinda.

I'm making the effort to change, mostly, and I'm not sure if I should be happy or not that I'm adapting to changing as well as I am. I guess you could think about it in a metaphorical sense, ya know like a drowning man mare clinging to a piece of driftwood, or something like that but I've never been the most poetic of people ponies. But ya know I'm not gonna dwell on it, cause I've resolved to not worry about things so much, which is probably the only way I'm gonna get through any of this sane. Embrace your new nature I guess. And in case you're wondering Diary, yes I am now going by the name Lucky Raindrops. I know it sounds stupid to you, but for me it just feels. . . appropriate? It’s kinda like how certain words just work better for certain things, like they were meant to be or something.

Writing this early in the day so nothing exciting has happened yet, but I have big plans for today. Today I'm gonna learn how to fly! How you may ask? Well I remember how birds are said to throw their young out of the nest when there wings are developed enough, in a flight or fright like scenario? Well I'm gonna pull off something like that, and throw myself off of higher elevations, not big ones mind you, but enough so that I have some distant between the ground and the air when I do jump. Is this risky? Probably, but it’s something I gotta do, cause I gotta learn how to fly. I just gotta. . .

Something feels missing, and I don’t know what.

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Pawing at the swing unsteadily, Lucky Raindrops took in her surroundings. A small park bench, a simple set of swings (one flat board like swing, one baby seat swing), a teeter totter, some monkey bars, a garbage bin, a bike path, some trees, the gravel pit, and of course some pillows to catch her if she fell. gravel hurt, and Lucky was never quite sure why people liked to put it into their playgrounds, where kids (foals?) played and got hurt, it just didn't seem very safe.

Perhaps being alone for a week and a few days had made her reckless, perhaps the emotional roller coaster she had been on for the past week and 2 days had made it difficult for her to really care, whatever the reason Lucky stood at the top of a relatively high children's slide (oh my god she was so high up) preparing to do something that, in the right state of mind, seemed perfectly rational and efficient. Mind you this was not the right state of mind to have at any time, but it was her current state of mind regardless.

She kicked at the slide a little, creating a small dust cloud, and gave a small snort. her hoodie had been taken off for this particular experiment, as she needed her wings if she ever wanted to fly. she backed up on what little flat space the slide had, and steeled her nerves. A bead of sweat trailed down the right side of her face at an agonizingly slow pace. All sounds in the general vicinity seemed to stop in silent anticipation of the approaching moment. The wind shifted in a dramatic flourish, to create the perfect conditions for flying. The sun shined on happily ignoring every second of the current scene. A pair of eyes watched silently from an overgrown hedge. A flower wilted. A cloud moved. A nerve twitched. A gulp forced it’s way down Lucky’s throat. She licked her lips, as they felt dry.

She gave as much speed as she possibly could, and lept into the air in a dramatic bound, left front leg outstretched, right held tightly to the side, both rear legs stretched out as far as they could, wings spread out in preparation for lift off, a steely eyed look on her face, the look of a champion, the look of an explorer, the look that all great men and women have when they are about to achieve the impossible, her mane and tail blew back from the force, and served almost as a cape, the classic superman pose in all it’s glory, be used for what it was always meant to be used for (aside from not being done by a human), the power of unaided flight, the power humans had searched for since time began!

Lucky promptly fell to the ground like a rock, with her front half just barely missing the pillows (a mere two cm) and landing rather painfully on the ground (even the part with pillows), a pair of eyes in the overgrown bush winced. She lay there in a bit of a daze. She got up. Lucky sighed, and proceeded to go find more pillows. She did however pause for a few seconds to examine a bush that. . . had simply felt suspicious to her. A squirrel scampered out from underneath the bush, and hurriedly went on its way. Lucky gave a small sigh (of relief or disappointment, she didn't really know) and carried on to find more pillows.

A few bushes down, unseen or heard by Lucky, something scampered out as fast as it’s four legs could carry it, making for a location a fair distance away from lucky. It needed time to think. Time to plan.

A flower perked up. Lucky quietly hummed a little tune.

“I believe I can fly. . . I believe I can touch the sky. . .”

today was going to be a long day.

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