And I've Never Felt as Good as How I Do Right Now
View Online

I Feel Fantastic!

And I've Never Felt as Good as How I Do Right Now

I wake up in my gigantic bed. I kick off the covers and hop on the mattress, bouncing, feeling my legs shake and vibrate, my muscles tense and relax as my blood flow livens up.

I turn and send Smarty Pants a smile and light up my horn; an envelope of magic surrounds her and stuffs her into the deepest part of the nearest drawer. Wouldn't want them to see her. Her leg gets caught as my magic slams the drawer shut – so I hop over and apologise profusely before easing her inside with my hooves.

I've been out of practice with my magic: the strength is there but I lack finesse. At least in the moments after waking up. Ah, what does it matter? I rub my horn and run out of the room. I don't think I've woken Spike.

I rush by a mirror on the way to the breakfast room, and I catch myself already grinning. Today's a big day; every day's a big day. Through the gigantic window of my enormous castle, I can see a Ponyville just waking up with the sunrise.

I have to choose breakfast from all my favourite foods: the finest hayburgers, pancakes, muffins, cupcakes, and what have you – just nothing too cheesy! Wouldn't want anything to be too cheesy. I pick up a muffin and sit down, already chewing by the time my bum hits the chair. Something missing, and I cannot tell what. Hot sauce, maybe?

I recall the odes Pinkie sang about how well muffins and hot sauce go together. Classic Pinkie! No, not hot sauce. Something's missing, but what could it be? Doesn't matter, I've finished it already. I could grab another one... but the day is waiting for me, and I'd never leave it hanging.

I run into the bathroom horn aglow, and combs and brushes come to swirl around me in the air. I have one for almost every hair on my body. I brush my teeth and I clean my tongue and I practise my smiling a little bit more. I need to look good for the kids in town; I'm pretty much their idol by now!

I skip out of the castle and take a moment to breathe in the fresh morning air. I can practically feel the corners of my lips at my ears. A shiver runs through me as I prepare to face the day, and I get an urge to shout, to yell, to scream at the top of my lungs because I can't contain it:

“I feel fantastic!”

I gallop by Quills&Sofas and wave to the stallion there. He waves back, as he always does. He's always up and working earlier than I, I wonder how he does that. Does he never sleep? Well, maybe he doesn't stay up so late – the shop closes early evening. I suppose I just have more duties to attend than he does.

I'm not better than him, just busier. Maybe he knows something I don't. How does he finish everything for the day in time to go to bed?

I run into the Everfree, this time with no fear. I've fixed this place already; well, not really, I didn't fix it. I only fixed the magic tree that bears my cutie mark that eventually fixed the forest. Same thing? I wouldn't say so. Lots of ponies say so, but I wouldn't.

I remember I wasn't supposed to come to the Everfree today. Panic hits. I'm already behind schedule. Why did I come here?

I'm always so tight about my schedules. Why am I like that? I learned lots of times not to get like that. Celestia herself told me not to do that. So why do I do that? Oh look, I'm even deeper into the forest now. Well, today is bust. Might as well just enjoy this brisk walk. I should stop galloping.

I'd like to enjoy the little things, but the little things whisk by. They whisk by as quickly as the trees of the forest. Why am I still running? I'm getting tired. Oh, nonsense! Can't be tired. I spend a few moments looking at the rushing trees. It's peaceful, in a way.

I imagine a tiny pony running beside me, beside the beaten path in the bushes, dodging all the little obstacles with expert jumps and rolls. I smile at her and she smiles back. She's funny. I like her. But she overtakes me, and – oh, I lost her.

I'd like to enjoy the little things, but it's like they don't want to be enjoyed.

I arrive at the old castle of Luna and Celestia. Beautiful place; I wished I hadn't seen it before so I could see it for the first time again. But I've seen it so many times. I've seen it as a decrepit old castle; I've been here to repair it and return it to its former glory; my mind's eye has even travelled back in history itself to behold it when it was still new and pristine over a thousand years ago.

I've already looked through every hidden room, and I've pilfered through its secrets chambers. I recall the book incident with Rarity and Spike. What jokers! Had to spend all day cleaning up their mess. I mean, they were sorry, but it wasn't like they had the magic to undo their magic. Only I did. Thinking of it, I'm already feeling a lot better. That's quite something, because I was already in a pretty good place. I'm always in a pretty good place.

I run outside, fast enough that the wind waves my mane.

“I feel fantastic!”

I spread my wings and I kick the ground away. I'm up in the air above the sea of trees, and they seem so small from here! Even Ponyville is just a tiny dot in my vision. Well, except my castle. That is still huge. You can see it all the way from Canterlot.

I cannot get over how humongous the castle is. And it's so... purple. And pink. And so me. It's also got my cutie mark. Why does everything have my cutie mark? I'm not that special. I only saved Equestria a couple of times. And with the help of my friends to boot!

I'm not special, am I?

I should go to Canterlot. Haven't visited in a while. Outside of formal, royal visits, anyway. Maybe I can find some little things there. Big city. There ought to be.

I fly to the Canterlot Library. I'd spent so much time there! The ponies there are honoured to see me – and they ask about the unscheduled visit. Had they known I was coming, they'd have made sure everything was in order. They didn't want to disappoint me.

I'm not disappointed. I like the way it is, how some books are in the wrong place because in all these years they still haven't learned how to organise properly. It's the little imperfections that make something relatable. Everything and everypony has flaws. Even I do. Like coming back here when I should be working. What am I doing here?

I read a book, or two, or five – it barely takes me a few hours now. The memories resurge as I browse through the old library: I've read practically all of these at some point before. This place is done and finished, as far as I'm concerned. No need to come back here. Have to move on. That's how you grow.

I go for the widest window I can find so I can jump out – and fly away. I liked the wings. They let me fly away from things.

I go back to Ponyville. Sun's going down, and ponies are going home. Is it really so late? Where has the day gone? Is Celestia playing a prank? Why does everything have to be over so quickly?

I fly over the place where the Golden Oaks Library used to stand. I'd go back there, but it was burned down. That was pretty bad. But now I have a castle in its place, and it's so much bigger, and it's so much better, and it's so purple and so pink and it's just so me. It blends seamlessly into Ponyville. You can barely tell it wasn't there before. Just like me.

I love my castle. I even get to look at the remains of my old home in there because I hanged it from the ceiling. I like that.

I see the shadow of my castle creep over the streets as the Sun slowly sets behind it. I'm sorry about that. Not like I put it there. Why is it there, anyway? Destiny must have decided that was the best place to put it. For all the children to see, I suppose. They can look up every day and see it, and they can know that if they're diligent enough, they might one day be princesses themselves with their own castle just like me.

I haven't done anything the average pony couldn't do, have I? I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. And now I have to be elsewhere. I have royal duties to attend.

I go inside and look at all the gems that contain all the good memories I've made with my friends. It's been so long.

I've wasted this entire day. I should go to bed early. That way I can get up extra early and do extra work for my extra special duties tomorrow.

I realise I haven't had a bite since that one muffin. I go home and have another one, this time with hot sauce for old times' sake. This time, I wait until I sit down before I take a bite. It still tastes awful. Classic Pinkie!

I stop. I stop for just a moment.

The muffin crumbles in my mouth. It's a slow process; it goes soft and it comes apart, practically melting at the touch of my tongue. Sweetness fills my mouth first, but the hot sauce isn't far behind. I can't even tell what it tastes like, though I try. I flip the bite around in my mouth. It tastes hot.

I have to be quick, lest the muffin melts entirely before I get to savour it. By the time it reaches the other side of my mouth, it's gone. All that remains in place of the sweetness and chocolate chips is a burning sensation.

It is awful, but I enjoy it. Well, I enjoy it while I can – in just a few moments, the burning becomes too much and I have to chug a glass of water. I was never good with spicy stuff. Rather this than too much cheese, though.

I chuckle. This is what gives me trouble, after all: not the great demons that threaten all the land, not the problems of the many ponies – indeed, my subjects – but a little too much cheese in my food.

Strange how life works out. Pondering, I take another bite, but I'm careful to make it a small one. I can't finish this muffin too quickly – this one needs to last. Please, let it last. I add but a tiny tip of hot sauce to the tip of my tongue. Why do I do this to myself?

It's been too long since I've had something so awful. Usually I get to have only the most delicious foods; nopony would ever give me something they know I don't like.

The bite melts again. Why are good things always so fleeting? When I first came to Ponyville, I thought one would have to be crazy to enjoy something as silly as muffins with hot sauce. And yet here I am now, chewing the next bite.

I lick some sauce off my lips, and it burns my tongue. I don't think I'm smiling right now. I could smile; I should smile. For some reason, even I cannot tell what, I don't want to. Not now.

I'm not smiling.

I've been eating a muffin for ten minutes.

I swallow the last bite and run into the bedroom, not even bothering to wipe my mouth.

I rush by a mirror again and notice my grin stained by crumbles and bits of sauce that stuck to my hairs. Who cares? It's a little flaw. I like little flaws.

I see my bed is a mess. I thrash and wiggle and throw myself about too much when I can't sleep. I use my magic to set it right. That needs a lot of fine manipulation – and I make it without a hitch. My bed is beautiful.

I climb into bed and pull up the covers. I think back on my beautiful, wasted day. There used to be more like it. There used to be parties and dancing and I used to read a lot for its own sake.

I should ask Pinkie to throw a party just because. She could – wait! – oh, thank goodness. For a second I thought my cutie mark was glowing. Maybe I'll ask her tomorrow. But I can't ask her tomorrow.

I have so many things to do tomorrow, all that extra work I made for myself today. I should stop doing that, making myself extra work. That only makes things worse. That's why I should stick to my schedules. No more days off. Not unscheduled ones, anyway.

I heard there was some trouble in Fillydelphia. And the map might show me something any moment, that can never wait. Then there's that big summit I need to help organise...

I close my eyes and try to go to sleep. But something is missing.

I light up my horn, my eyes still closed, and with my magic I feel blindly for the deepest drawer. I pull it out and wrap my aura around a soft thing.

I brush my magic across Smarty Pants' face. I can feel the little buttons she has for eyes as though I touched her with my own hooves. I pull her over and lift the covers so she can climb into my embrace. Maybe growing up isn't all it's cracked up to be. Celestia never told me it would be like this. Or did I just do it wrong? Should I tell her?

I shouldn't tell her. She isn't my mother.

I should visit my mother. When I have the time.

I heard the door creak, and tiny feet patter on the floor.

“Are you okay?” asks Spike.

I don't raise my head or even open my eyes to answer. I hug Smarty Pants closer and curl up around her. I put my muzzle over her shoulder, and I whisper in her ear.

“I feel fantastic.”