Lucky And The Search For Friends.

June 3 2015

Dear Diary

Another pretty good day today. Even managed to have a shower (it rained, and I had shampoo on hoof), I even got to say hello to a nice dog, he looked pretty ragged and wild, but he was pleasant regardless, all in all it was a good day. still not getting anywhere on flying but I'm gonna guess that you knew that already. . .

Errr, anyways, I’ll just remember to update on the whole flying thing when I actually do make some progress, so in the meantime here’s simply hoping that tomorrow goes better!

wow what a short entry.

-Lucky Raindrops

--*--

A small candle flickered quietly in the darkness, illuminating the wood paneled flooring, the limestone fireplace that had been left unused, an old fashioned checkered felt couch, the plain copper coloured carpet, and, to complete the older feeling of the house, a record player. All in all it looked like a snapshot out of an older time, or at least what lucky assumed was a snapshot out of an older time. If people had still decorated so. . . old fashionably, she would be very surprised.

All in all though it was a very nice house, and an unlocked one at that. They weren't loaded up on supplies or anything, but they had enough around for Lucky to be comfortable. Besides if she was running low on anything she could always just take it from a neighbouring house. The light of the flames of the candle flickered across her current page, bringing the words into focus in the oppressive night. She was currently reading a strangely fascinating, though rather morbid, book about a man who woke up one day as a cockroach.

Metamorphosis.

She couldn't help but grit her teeth at the family the poor man, Gregor, and their treatment towards him. His situation was unfortunate, and so was the families, but family simply didn't treat each other like that. Family didn't betray each other.

She felt her teeth clench even more, so tightly they might break.

Lucky put the book away, and instead picked up a book called ‘The Hitch Hiker's Guide to The Galaxy.’

She had no idea what the book was about, but just from the title alone it looked like a fascinating read. Turning to the first page she started to read out loud, a strange habit she had picked up from Lucas, and began to lose herself within the pages of the book.

“Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.”

As she continued to read, lucky found herself consciously omitting human prefixes, and replacing them with pony ones.

--*--

June 4 2015

Dear Diary

Nothing new to report. Had a bit of trouble finding more matches, but I managed. . . I have a personal project in mind but I'm not entirely sure I should do it. . . maybe I’ll just sleep on it and decide in the morning!

conflicted but still happy

-Lucky Raindrops

--*--

A small pile that was mostly wood sat lamely in the middle of the yard. Harmless in its appearance and function, but infinitely malicious in its innocence. Not one of the objects in the pile were quite the same, but to lucky they all blended together into a maelstrom of hatred and despair.

“they’re nothing but photos. . .” she murmured, and proceeded to trot back into the house.

--*--

June 5 2015

Dear Diary

I'm writing this early in the morning, so I actually haven’t done anything yet. However I have decided it might help me write down what I plan to do tonight. Because you see tonight I plan to gather as many photos in the neighbourhood that have humans in them, and then I plan to burn them.

So far the day has started off pretty good, breakfast was simple, some stale cereal, water, and a couple of daisies. I’ll be starting with my morning exercise routine after writing this entry, and all in all I've been feeling especially chipper today. I'm expecting the feeling to carry on to the end of the day, so all in all today seems to be shaping up to being a pretty good day!

Feeling great

-Lucky Raindrops

--*--

Tearing down the past is a frighteningly easy thing to do. The past relays on memory, and memory is temporary. The past in that regard is much like a basic sand-castle, simple in appearance, an easy thing to visualize (the future), but it never quite works out how you want it to, due to hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions, of microscopic variables (the present). And like a basic sandcastle, a simple push or pull  of a wave, whether it be change, stagnation, chaos, order, fear, chance, bravery, or whatever else, comes along to wash it away. However the sand still remains, what was used to construct the past still persists, these events still happened. It is the recognizable landmarks, the sandcastles sticking up all over the horizon, that are so easily washed away, so easily destroyed. Not all sandcastles are simple to build, just as not all pasts are simple in their design, but in the end they still share this same weakness.

Perhaps this is something that all sapient species recognize instinctively, that the past is fragile and easily destroyed, and as such they go through great lengths to preserve the past, because it is a testament to their achievements, and without achievements, without the check-boxes that are already marked, there is nothing to justify saying ‘okay what's next on the list?’, nothing to justify looking towards the future. The question inadvertently arises however of whether this is a good thing or not. Is it better to maniacally looking towards the future, always asking questions, always double checking and second guessing, simply to smooth out the rough edges, to answer all the questions out of some perverse fear of the unknown, and the lingering bitterness of not having reached perfection, all in the name of bettering who we will be? Or is it better to stop, to stagnate, all in the name of enjoying what we are, to lay of future worries, to gorge on the ecstasy of the moment, even when better opportunities are desperately trying to garner our attention? This is something that will always plague sapient life at one point or another, and all for one very simple goal.

How, and when, can we be happy? Conflict will always arise from this goal, as no one being can best decide on the route they want to take. Some want this happiness now, some are willing to wait. The two major poles are driven by imagination, and practicality. What can we be in the future and how do we get there. What we are right now and what's are immediate need.

The past plays a very important in this conflict. Without the past we can be more secure in what we are right now, no mistakes to worry about repeating, no new people to remember, a constant blank page we can draw a new Mona Lisa on over and over again. With the past we have the power to better ourselves for tomorrow, lessons we can learn from, people we can learn from, a structurally sound wire frame, of which a thousand Mona Lisa's all wrapped into one can be drawn from. Both have their advantages and disadvantages, and both are at their most extreme, most sapient beings get by with mixing elements of the two, and never bother to think about the conflict again.

Lucky Raindrops is such a being and what she wanted was not happiness tomorrow, she wanted happiness right now. And the easiest way to get happiness is to destroy the past.

lighting the match was tricky. She eventually got it though, and a small flame flickered on the match head, dancing away in perfect innocence. Just like how the wood pile sat there with perfect innocence. Not doing anything, but equally destructive in power. Only one was destructive emotionally, the other was destructive much more literally.

Could she do this? Yes. Did she want to do this? Yes. Was anything stopping her? Yes. Was anything physical stopping her? No. Lucas hadn't been terribly inclined to making choices against his better judgement, or his gut feeling (he always felt there was a lot of weight in what your instincts told you, after all they were there for a reason). However there was one crucial difference between Lucas and Lucky.

“What have I got to lose?”

She tossed the match into the pile of photos. At first nothing happened, and the only sign that the match had landed in the pile at all, was a small orange glow. Then slowly, very slowly, the pile began to catch fire. Lucky watched the fire with entranced eyes, watching in that particularly human like way, with fascination as the fire danced around the pile in its unique, random dance, that only nature could produce. She was so entranced she didn't even notice a white coated, butter yellow maned, wingless, hornless, ordinary pony, come over with a fire extinguisher and aim at her burning wooden pile.

She did however, notice all the foam start covering her burning pile of framed photos, and in the brief span of time of watching her fire die, and registering what just happened, Lucky felt a sharp spike of anger start to course through her. She hadn't seen any signs of other ponies (or people) at all these last two weeks, and when she finally met another pony (or person), they try to dictate her life choices to her?

“What the hell are you doing!” and to Lucky's surprise both she and this mysterious newcomer (who was wearing a red sun dress, and was also a pony, yay!) yelled at the same time. The newcomer seemed just as surprised as lucky however, and jumped ever so slightly. a few seconds of tense silence passed, and then the white (as in snow white, wow that coat was kinda pretty. . .) newcomer shyly pawed at the ground, and hung her head ever so slightly (her gorgeous yellow mane hanging almost entirely on the left side of her face, even covering her left eye, and seemingly quite long in length for her new body). She chuckled nervously and, still looking down, offered a sheepish grin.

“Hehe. . . sorry. . .” she said in a very quiet, very nervous, almost singsong, voice. Lucky gulped, desperately fighting the need to blush (whether from nervousness or. . . something else entirely, she wasn't sure), and finding that words were failing her at the moment, offered a sheepish (though surprisingly more bold than the strangers) grin in response.

years later, looking back on the past, lucky would say that this was how she and her first friend ever met.

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