Sometimes I usually ask
Who… Am I? Where… Am I? When… did I get here? How… did I get here?
Let's just focus on who I am first. Well, easier said than done. You expect me to know myself? Well, you’re wrong!
“Who the hell am I?”I questioned myself “Like honestly, how do I not know myself?” I continued myself on, looking at the rocky, hard, cold path; leading me somewhere, yet hopefully nowhere
I decided to walk, walk upon this, this highway to hell, as the misty fog blocked my field of view. The continuous thinking of myself, made me lose my sanity, ever so slowly. The only thing I know, is that I’m a unicorn, But why only that?
Why am I a unicorn? What is a unicorn? Who was the first ever unicorn? Is the unicorn species even real? Am I real? Is anything real?
What is this mess? What is this monstrosity?
‘Welcome to PonyVille!’ the sign stated, continuing on, stating it’s year on when it was made ‘1910’
Yet the date now is 1935, so this place must be 25 years old.
“Well, crikey, better knock myself out!”I shouted out loud, leaving out a dead, cold echo.
I proceeded, proceeded to PonyVille. The home to the mane six.
“Yeah, Remember that fella, the mane six!” I shouted out loud “Yeah, no pony did!”
It didn’t take so long until I saw the first building, the building was a wreck, a huge one. And the thing that was coming out of it was food, goods, a lot of goods. I wonder why?
“I guess I can stay here for tonight,” I thought to myself, as I look around,
I heard some pony talking in the background, but no ponies to be seen. Only drifting away in the darkness, or the side of the building,
“The pony,” A pony said
“The pony?” another pony questioned
“It’s one the pony!” Somepony shouted
The constant hissing and whispering in the background made me, I don’t know actually. But why? What makes them talk about me?
A pony walks near me, slowly, but not creepily, Well, sort of, he’s walking as if he’s creeping up on somepony, and the way he walks, he seemed like he was in a cartoon, the cartoons who had the characters who walked, tip-toeing, as if they were, creeping up on somepony
“You are the one,” he said, with a hissing sound, yet the same accent as every other pony,
“What the hell is going on!” I exclaimed, never shouted as loud as before,
I started to gallop, as fast as I could, leaving the ponies behind, dressed in… cloaks or a rough, brown tunic, with a hat, striped in faint blue and pale white.
“Who the heck are they?” I thought to myself, leaving a creepy vibe, one I shall not forget, even if I try to.
But why are they talking about me? I’m just some alicorn, lost in the endless amount of fog, as I drift away, slowly, to a different place, I wonder where I’ll go next. Well, hopefully, better, from the last.
“Yet I still think,” I stopped for a brief second, “why are they talking about me? Like honestly, I don’t even know myself!”
The mist devoured me, or they fog perhaps.
“Well, better head to Canterlot, won’t be far from here,” I said, aloud, wishing that it won’t be far “Well, I hope so”
The endless amount of pain fills me with something, something I can’t describe or even understand; the only way how I can describe is… pleasure, sweet pleasure… but it stings, who knew pleasure can sting?
And the food back there, it… looked delicious, my favourite type of food, yet… I wasn’t able to touch it nor steal it since there was no cashier for me to pay for it.
But why aren’t there any? Should there at least be some? I don’t know, why I’m asking all these questions. I’m just curious now, then I was before, maybe I just migrated unintentionally into this hell hole. Well, it ain’t hell, but it sure feels like it.
Maybe I just need some rest.
But I couldn’t since The pain, cycling through my body, feels good, like pleasure… just like before; Although I can’t do anything about since there were no visible wounds for me to take care of, but if I do… I won’t be able to feel the pleasure anymore.
“Ugh, this pain… it’s getting more painful!” I exclaimed, shutting my eyes as tears go down the never ending river. Hiding my pleasure that I love, so I don’t look weird, well that’s only if somepony is watching.
But why did I deny the pain? Why should I… It just feels more good by the second, even thinking about, makes me feel, amazing. But just the thought of it, feeling invisible wounds, as invisible blood drip out of me, making a pool of blood, or a trail of regret. It just feels like somepony is watching or following me, well if it’s even a pony, that is.
But even if it was a pony… or ponies. Who are they? What do they want? But what the hell am I thinking, I just need to end this monstrosity, This monstrosity, that I love? The reason why I said love is because, as a question, is that I love it here, but do I belong here? Am I the right pony to be or stay here... do I even like staying her?
I just don't know, maybe it's just the questions that matter, or possibly I matter. Or maybe the questions are making me lose my sanity, by every breath I take, or questions I make. I just want to know who I am, or what am I.