I don’t know where to begin; do I start with my name? Or do I start with my Confessions to you all, and then give my name at the end? I suppose I’ll give my name first. My name is Molotov. I am a 16 year old male Earth pony living in a small Equestrian city. I’m sort of a dark blue color, with a black mane and tail. I always stick out in a crowd of other ponies, and not in a good way. Whenever I go to a public place, I feel as if I’m judged. Whenever I talk to the very few friends I have, I feel somewhat judged, and I always feel judged by my family, even though I know that they love me. My mother, my father, and my sister, they all love me, but they still judge me, I know, confusing right? When I’m near my other family members, I have to lie to them on the things I love, to keep myself from being judged by them too. I’m very shy, and I tend to avoid social interaction, which is partially why I have very few friends. I feel so lonely sometimes. It doesn’t help me that a lot of the ponies that I am around think of themselves as gods and goddesses. I can think of one particular mare that acts as if she’s the queen of the city, or something, I can also think of many adult ponies that I know of that act the same way. My family, and friends, and the ponies that I falsely label as friends, are all on the conservative side of thinking, which I’m not myself, but I am kind of close, I’m more of a center liberal, which still doesn’t help, since we all know that putting a liberal in a room with a bunch of conservatives is basically the same thing as shaking a two liter of pop and opening the lid to have a bunch of the sticky liquid spew all over you. I always have to lie! I hate lying! I want to be honest, but being honest on those certain things will get you nowhere, instead you will be confused to no end on where you stand.
My parents go to a certain Right wing group in the city, twice a week, where they discuss all sorts of right wing topics with their friends, which I have to say, some of them are not that bad, some of them are actually very understanding. Still, admitting my certain liberal beliefs to these ponies will be the death of my social life, that is, if I had much of one. My few friends seem to accept my personal interests, and I am grateful for those blessed souls, but not much of them know of my liberalism.
This Right wing group that my family and my closest friends are part of, associate with other Right wing groups across Equestria. They hold Youth camps and conferences every year, which are set up to basically brainwash all the youthful ponies that go. I was a part of the brain washed crowd when I was smaller, but I started thinking for myself, I still hold to some of their ideology, but not much. It is a certain right wing conference that a lot of ponies that I know, love to attend. The conference usually lasts for about two or three days, and it teaches to the extreme. They teach near Fascist ideology, telling ponies to believe certain things, such as sexism, classism, maybe even racism, I don’t know. The worst thing they teach the ponies there is to self-loath themselves, to be ashamed of certain things, which I do think there is some truth to, knowing what you’ve done wrong and all, but why do they have to self-loath themselves?
My city that I live in has a river in the park there. The river runs past the park, and out past the city limits. I walk along, near the river, usually on cloudy or even rainy days. I love to walk alongside that river, slowly sometimes, in the rain, feeling the rain beat down on my body, just thinking about certain things. A lot of other teenage ponies have a special somepony, both liberal, and conservative at my age. I think about what it must be like, to have a special mare to enjoy life along with, but I still think of myself as too young, but I still wonder what it must be like. I sometimes close my eyes, and walk along the river, and kind of pretend that a special somepony of mine were trotting along next to me, my imagination flows so much, that I can almost swear that I hear the soft giggling of a mare that I loved truly, only to open my eyes, and look over to where this mare should be standing, and see nothing but the concreate of the road, or the green grass, depending on where I’m standing at the time. Every time I open my eyes when I do these things, it’s painful, and heart aching. Usually, after I do that, I stare at the river, and notice its rough currents, to kind of get my mind off of the thoughts I had a few moments ago. This works for the most part, I drift onto other thoughts, such as thoughts about the local conservative group, and the conference we attend, or at least they attend, I’ve completely boycotted the conference.
I also sometimes walk outside of the city limits, in the overgrown grass, and weeds. Now I usually do my darker thinking near the river, but recently, I’ve been doing my darker thinking just about anywhere, even my room, where in the messy, standard teenage stallion room, I think, and even plan many dark, evil things. I love bringing up the conference to my mind, as I think of the horrid deeds that I often daydream about. I often daydream about attending the conference. In these daydreams, I’d often pack a bag to take with me, filled with, ‘things to do’ on the way down to the conference. In the bag would be an array of different kinds of weapons such as pipe bombs, petrol bombs, knives, and probably even more. The bag would have to be small, so I’d have to only pack the things I’d need. I also thought of bringing a trench coat, to pack some pipe bombs in the pockets, and be able to get the stuff into the conference easier. Once inside, I’d sneak off, to the bathrooms probably, and wait until the speeches start, then find my way into the conference room, and start lighting fuses, and throwing pipe bombs at everypony. I’ve always wanted to see the ponies at the conference get hurt, even die, but for what reason? I guess I could say that I want to teach these tyrannical ponies a lesson by giving them violence.
And there you have it, this is how I live, in fear, in sorrow, and in anger. Fearful or ponies finding out my stance in this world, sorrowful in how I have no pony to show romantic affection, and in anger from the conference and a lot of their teachings. My name is Molotov, and I shall speak to you all again soon.
