No, this doesn't work either, Twilight thought.
She extracted the ink from the paper with her magic and put it back in the inkpot. This one had been another failure. Another failed story. Twilight knew exactly what she wanted to write, she had the feeling that she was going for right there, but it just didn't work. The words did not come. She had tried again and again, but the only result had been that it had gotten way past midnight and the feeling that she should probably have gone to bed ages ago.
All that she wanted to do was to write something that would make other ponies feel like she felt at that moment. That feeling of... of... something. She didn't know what to call it, but she did know how it felt. Twilight decided to call it 'The Feeling' since she couldn't actually describe it in simple terms. She had thought of a few other names, but nothing quite fit.
It felt like an urge to create, but not actually. Anything she would create would never be good enough to satisfy The Feeling. It felt kind of good. In some way it didn't, but in the way that it didn't feel good, it felt good. Like happy-sad. A sad feeling which makes you feel happy.
Twilight dipped her quill back in the inkpot and prepared for another try at replicating The Feeling on paper. It would fail, no doubt, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to try.
She held her quill above the paper for a few seconds, wondering what to write. Something with a message... something hidden deep in the words, inspiring anyone who read it. Something really deep. She had all the themes, all the meanings right there, but she didn't know how to wrap them up in words for other ponies to read.
~~There once was a young stallion~~
~~Once upon a time~~
~~It was a dark night in Cante~~
Twilight erased her words again with her magic. This wasn't working. Not even a little bit. She could see the stories fail before they were even written. At least she didn't waste ink and paper using her ink-removal spell.
She put her quill down in the pot, and rested her head on the wooden desk she was sitting at in a way so that she could look out the window in front of her. Maybe something out there would give her an idea on how to transfer The Feeling.
Nothing but clouds, barely illuminated by the moon, which shone dimly through the cloud-layer.
Nice inspiration. Thanks, weather-ponies.
She closed her eyes, not sure what to do now. Writing clearly wasn't going to work. What other media were left? Painting? She was terrible at that. Music? Same story. Interpretive dance? Not a chance.
So what was left, really?
Well, Twilight did have one idea that might work.
If translating The Feeling through media like writing didn't work, then she just had to not use media.
It was a quite simple idea, really. Twilight had theorised about telepathy quite a lot because it interested her greatly. The ability to communicate with people through thoughts and emotions had always appealed to her. Miscommunications would be impossible since the other would know exactly what you meant.
The removal of media in communication. Nothing standing between two minds.
It wouldn't have worked out because there always had to be some form of medium. The mind on its own can't experience anything, it needs the sensors in the body, so there always had to be at least one step in between, be it based on sight, hearing, or any of the other senses.
The other problem was that conveying such a thought would cost a lot of magic. Doing an entire conversation would not even be close to being a possibility.
But Twilight didn't want to convey a conversation or a long train of thought, she only wanted to bring The Feeling to others. Only one emotion, one intense emotion.
Twilight raised her head from her desk and decided to go to work.
She cleared the table from any stacks of paper and old quills and grabbed a fresh quill and inkpot from one of the many drawers in the desk. She enveloped the quill in her magic, focusing on The Feeling inside. That desire to create, to enjoy, to put meaning into something, to find meaning in something, the contentedness of understanding what somepony wanted to convey with their art, the sadness that you would never be able to make something like it, the joy that you don't have to because other ponies already have done it.
Twilight focused only on The Feeling, feeling how it filled her until nothing else was left. She slowly levitated into the air, her eyes shining bright and her manes waving in a wind that only she could feel. She didn't notice any of these things because she only felt The Feeling.
And then her quill touched the paper.
Gold light streamed forth from the places where the quill had touched the paper, leaving a trail of shimmering golden letters, each carefully written in the tidy hoofwriting that Twilight had learnt all those years ago. The gold light cast wavering shadows all across her study room, making it look as if the room itself was alive.
When Twilight had finished writing, she floated down into her chair again, her eyes no longer glowing. The letters slowly lost their golden sheen, trading it for the normal ink-black.
Having put The Feeling into the paper, she felt relieved, almost. The Feeling was good, but it made her restless.
INSPIRATION
Just looking at the word, Twilight could feel The Feeling bubbling up in her again, driving her to create, to really make a masterpiece. She subdued it, knowing that she had just made one. Others might not get the same feeling out of this, but to her, it truly was a masterpiece.
She looked at her alarm clock, which she always had on her desk to stop her from reading too late into the night. 1:35, huh. She really needed to stay up this late less often. She stifled a yawn with and chuckled. Celestia forbid she did this sort of stuff more often. Oh well, writing a letter to Celestia before going to bed couldn't hurt.
Twilight took out a fresh sheet of paper, dipped her quill in ink, and started writing again.
Dear Princess Celestia.
Today (or tonight, rather,) I learnt something new. Not everypony can create a masterpiece. I always strived for perfection in everything that I did, but that's not necessary. It is better to create something in your own style that you can be proud of than try and fail to create something that the masses will see as a masterpiece. It might not earn you a lot of bits, but it will earn you your own satisfaction.
Still your faitful student,
Twilight Sparkle
She rolled up her letter and put it on her desk. She'd ask Spike to send it tomorrow. She then picked up her 'Inspiration' in her violet aura and put it on the wall, next to the window. If she ever needed The Feeling, it was right there. She wasn't going to send it out into the world, she was going to keep it right here with her. She didn't care much about sharing The Feeling anymore. 'Inspiration' would probably not even work on other ponies since they didn't have a mental connection to it.
After looking at it for a minute, Twilight crept down the hallways of her castle, entering her room and slowly getting in bed, making sure not to wake Spike.
With an intense feeling of contentedness, Twilight went to sleep.
Author's Note
I often think of things that I want to share, like my own music, or stories, or anything, really. I never get to the point where I can create anything good though.
So then I wrote a meta story about my inability to write stories.
It's 2:18 now, and I really should go to bed. Man, my thoughts get weird when I stay up late.
Hope this stuff is even mildly enjoyable. And if it's not, oh well, I still enjoyed writing it.
