I’m not sure how ponies usually start dairies, but this is it. This is the diary of a sociopath. You might be confused if you thought you were picking up Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship’s diary. Well, they are one in the same. I’m quite certain of this. (Though how this diary would be published is beyond me, as in the event of my death [and that is assuming a lot] the wards I’ve placed on it will turn it to cinder.)
I’m high-functioning at least. I can act like I have empathy toward my fellow ponies. After all, that’s how I got this far. You’re probably wondering just how I got this far without actually being able to connect with other ponies other than to fulfill tasks. Yes, even tasks like physical desire. Perhaps friendship is just a manipulation both parties enjoy. But we’ll start philosophizing later.
I have been this way for as long as I can remember. You don’t develop it. So obviously you have to be. I never liked to be held, and indeed, unfortunately I view my mother and father as means to their own end. They raised me and for that I am thankful, but being close to them is just beyond reach. Like Tantil and his apple. I know I should have it but I can’t get to it. Usually in cases like mine there’s one pony that ties us to the rest of the world. As you might have guessed already, that is my BBBFF, Shining Armor. In my formative years he made me go out with other ponies and play games, or go to social events. Most of the time I just read. After a while I think I wore him down, because he stopped asking me. I think I regret this. But after a while of these social gatherings I learned how to act around ponies to generally get them to like you.
But then, in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, something… odd happened. I met Moondancer. And she was just like me. There was something magical about it, and I don’t mean that stuff that comes out of my horn. We played, we laughed, we did science experiments together. We created magical devices that risked blowing up in our faces. You could almost call it love, in that foalish naive way. I look back upon those times fondly. I’m definitely sure I’m feeling regret now, because we both became absorbed in our studies and drifted apart, like two driven ponies are wont to do. And I think about that sadly, like those memories have a rain cloud over them. But at least that flame is… rekindling. May we burn bright and glorious and reach toward the heavens.
I’m not narcissistic. Half the time. I will readily admit that Moondancer is, in some areas, more educated than myself. There will, generally speaking, be ponies that know more than you. That’s why I’m reading every book an existence I suppose. Reaching toward heaven.
While we’re on the subject of what passes for romance, I must talk about my former rival Sunset Shimmer. I’m not sure where to begin. She’s hot, yes. Smart, absolutely. Normally you wouldn’t consider pushing ponies/people out of your way to achieve a goal as an admirable trait, but that’s nearly what I did. I admire individuals with a burning drive, Rainbow Dash, and even Rarity included. Sunset is so much like me I worry what would have happened if I read objectivist philosophy first, rather than the more societal Barxism. I yearn to have her here. We could talk about science and debate philosophy. It would get heated because we’re so set on our own world view and in the moment a spark of passion would take us and we’d make sweet, sweet love on a pile of books. Ahem. Excuse me for one moment…
OK, enough about romance, let’s talk about history. The defeat of Nightmare Moon, or the Restoration of Luna, depending on how the textbook authors spin it. (There does exist two factions but it seldom goes beyond a popularity contest. Luna has a slightly different governing philosophy than her sister, however it’s not enough for any real schism.) I said I had friends yes. I suppose that’s true. They meet all the criteria. They care about me, and each other. We help one another. We straddle the line between annoying and entertaining each other as well. I would, in fact, lay down my life for these girls and have on several occasions. They would do the same. That doesn’t sound sociopathic at all, I know you’re thinking. Well, I did say high functioning. Not only would it be a tactical advantage, but I also feel that the world would be a darker place without them. Perhaps that’s actually what friendship is. Or love. Who knows. Trying to define such nebulous concepts gets you nowhere. It is what it is. I maintain that they are the exception, not the rule.
For example, I walk down the streets of Ponyville. I overhear two ponies talking about… whatever. Something mundane, droll, or generally stupid. Or worse, factually incorrect. And they seem completely content in their ignorance. I cannot relate to talking about the weather, save what the team has scheduled so I can plan around it. I cannot relate to hoofball, or the more feminine equivalent soccer. Such topics are meaningless ways to pass the chatter. All that there is, is knowledge and its pursuit.
Part of me recognizes how pretentious this sounds. But for the sake of argument, would you not agree that knowledge is the only thing that gives life meaning, and that meaning should be quested after at all times? I will, even, concede for you, that your “meaning of life” may be different than mine, but is it really to know about which colt is cuter at all times? Such vapid conversation bores me.
Well, this is a diary, and ramblings are welcome. The point I was going to get to is that the Elements of Harmony are bound by destiny as well as what is probably friendship. I’m sure if I applied myself I could find admirable traits in each citizen and even befriend them. But that sounds like something that would take away from book reading. And what would I gain? I think five friends is enough. Dear me of course I need to count Spike. I’m kicking myself for that one.
It is entirely possible I’m getting sociopathy and some other mental deficiency confused. Take for example, aspergers. But I cannot pursue an official diagnoses of any of it because I’m a princess. I have to appear as… well, mentally healthy. The nation is watching me. The idea terrifies me and thrills me.
You’re probably wondering how the Princess of Friendship also nearly completely lacks empathy and manages to fulfil her duties. The answer is quite simple, but behind that answer is a complex solution. I study social interaction. I have shelves dedicated in my crystalline library to near all situations. I have a photographic memory and have memorized most of the laws. In the rare case without precedent I try to solve the matter with the simple maxim: How would I want it to be treated in this situation? Since I’m not necessarily bound to emotion for any passerby, I can look at both sides objectively, and therefore can often reach a compromise that pleases both parties. Failing that, that’s what the books are for. My duties also include spreading friendship. This is where my friends are invaluable, as they understand ponies, griffons, yaks, et al, much better than I do. I try to view it on the level of two nations reaching out to each other. “What pleases you about Equestria? I hear Yakyakistan is lovely.” On a related tangent, I quite like the yaks. I think they and I have a lot in common. Like, you know. Perfectionism.
I think it best if I walk you through what goes on in my mind on a typical day. (Again, I’m assuming someone is reading this even though I know that it’s physically impossible. It just helps me get my thoughts together.) Yesterday Rainbow wanted to have a picnic because she’s a sappy romantic with a small taste for the girly. She made Applejack suggest it like it was her idea. I was just perchance flying overhead and heard them… Well, I was perched on a cloud but you get the idea. I was taking a nap, I swear!
So naturally when Applejack approached me at the castle, I acted delighted and feigned ignorance. I do enjoy going out with what we’re calling friends. It’s a difficult concept to define, which never sat well with me. I like to define things as precisely as possible.
So we go to Lover’s Bluff, and I mentally recite all the myth and history that surrounded it. Thirty suicides, six hundred marriages. Stuff like that. I start to speculate as to why we chose this venue specifically. It probably has to deal with the name.
Rainbow’s normally pale blue visage is the color of a tomato. I kinda like tomatoes. It serves to remind me how hungry I am. I forgot breakfast because I was reading. Rarity gently nudges the poor pegasus and she finally speaks up.
“While we’re here… I… this is as good a time as any. Rarity and I have been dating for a while and we… wanted to let you know. I guess we’re official now.”
“So when’s the weddin’?” Applejack asked.
“Applejack!” Rarity protests. “How uncouth. We genuinely like each other but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Rainbow nods in agreement. I’m secretly thankful I won’t have to marry my friends off any time soon. Because I know they’ll make me officiate. Bonds of love delivered by somepony that doesn’t understand them. It’s too ironic for my taste. And… eh… I kind of have a history with wedding mishaps. Shining’s was not the first.
Fluttershy lightly claps and says how happy she is. Pinkie gives them both a great big hug and says she knew it all along. That I don’t doubt. Pinkie knows everything in this town. The idea terrifies me. I must have been staring into the distance, betraying a longing. Moondancer is in Canterlot and Sunset’s in another dimension. The two ponies I can connect with. Make me feel equine.
“Wa’s the matter Twi?” Applejack twangs. “Must be lonesome without somepony to keep your castle warm.” I could think of about five innuendoes and I’m not sure any were intentional on her part. I mutter an agreement. And then she just… drops it. A bomb. A giant, nuclear warhead. “Um… while we’re confessing things…” Oh damn. “Would you like to go on a date… with me?” She goes on about how huge of a crush she has on me. How amazing and attractive I am. Having my ego stroked feels nice but my heart is trying to kill me as a means of warped self-preservation. Thank you, ironic social anxiety.
So I agree. We all make mistakes.
I must proceed very delicately. Good job, idiot.
She’s not nearly reclusive enough, nor does she seem to be a student of anything except the University of Hard Knocks and Agriculture. I can’t have intelligent discussions about Haycart’s philosophy or magical methods. I know she likes to read sappy romance novels that make me gag. I am, after all, the librarian. We have so little in common and now I’ve backed myself into a corner. But I could be wrong. Scientist, as I have named that persona, wants to collect more data, while Socio wants to be left alone because she can’t feel anything. Then theirs everyone’s old pal Carnal Desire, and you know what she wants. Oh how I wish to be asexual.
Well no, I didn’t take advantage of her feelings for me, because despite what you may think at this point I do have a moral code. I went on a date earlier today at a diner and let her down as gently as possible. Her body language betrays that she didn’t take it too well, but it’s for our mutual benefit. In time she will move on. Her and kind, gentle Fluttershy would be great together. Maybe. I’m not an expert on the subject. She’s probably at home crying, while I’m over here trying to study pony relations so I don’t make my friends cry more than I have to. That whole incident with Tank was enough. Ugh I swear that was the silliest thing on the face of the planet. Rainbow, he’ll be back in three months. Oh Celestia grant me patience. Though all things considered, Winter was delivered quite efficiently. It’s like Owlowiscious sleeping during the day. Oh no, what will I do-- Oh wait I have Spike. Maybe it’s a good thing I have two assistants. I need all the help I can get.
Maybe I should get a few servants as well. Currently I’ve tasked my poor dragon to keeping the entire castle clean. It’s no small feat. Well it’s not like he has to do it daily. But would I want to clean the entire castle? No. He’s still emotionally developing. He needs to go out and have more fun. Or he could end up like me. I’m not sure I’d wish that on anyone.
Well writing my soul on the page has emotionally exhausted me. I’m going to call it a night. And yes, I’m capable of emotion, just not empathy. Well, some emotions. Maybe I could make a list…
That’s a very me thing to do.
