Dear Melody Breeze,
Have no clue what I'm doing. I hate using a quill with my mouth. My name is... it's stupid to say out loud. Call me Nobody. I'm not really real if you can realize this. How I got your letter? I don't know but that's a lie. How are you going to get my letter? A wish and a prayer.
Let's get to the point. This is what you want to hear:
“Something.”
ha ha ha...
ah...
I live in a room that I rent from my nice landlady Crystal. That's not her real name but it's close enough. We got this big dog who is in my landlady's words “a psycho”. The dog isn't. She's just neurotic. Doesn't listen to what you say. That's a lie. She listens and understands but doesn't obey. Here name is My-yah. Don't ask.
I don't go out much. Not that pretty to look at anymore. Parts of my body don't work well. Part of my mind don't work well. My mouth works well. Except with this quill is in my mouth. I live off insurance money and life is pretty good. I got hobbies like reading. Eat, sleep and play games. Also hunt down ponies who are missing.
But I'm not hunting you down. I know where you are. But if you get this letter, you'll know where I am. That's okay. I get that it is creepy but don't be creepied out.
I don't go out much. It's because it's hard to do. Lifting my back legs to move is a chore. So I got to use these things to move around. Everyone stares at me. That's okay but I wish they didn't. I got my cutie mark for moving swiftly and quietly. If you believe that. Crystal gets bits from me to buy food and cooks it. Because she's better at it.
Sometimes she uses cheap stuff to make cheap meals and my guts hurt after I eat. I also eat a lot at once but I'm not fat. That's okay.
I don't go out much. Pretty lazy and don't have energy. Stay up late sometimes and the sometimes turn into all the time. Then it makes me sick. Sicker. Then Crystal yells at me with her old mare voice telling me I should:
“Stop staying up all night!”
I'm quiet and don't make a sound.
“Stop eating everything at once!”
Not like I'm fat. In fact I'm skinny and need to gain weight but sometimes my gut hurts.
“Stop bah bah bah...”
My landlady drinks and smokes too. Doesn't have a stallion in her life. Got a son, but enough of that. I got parents and a sister and some friends but I don't see them enough. Well, maybe just enough. Still have them for now.
Here is a lie: My sister is a princess. She got horns and wings and lots of strength. She annoys me. Two out of three statements just given are not a lie. Her name is Beautiful Dreamer. She's the third alicorn I know next to these two colts I meet Los Pegasus. If I think that was the place. Was with my dad at the time and we broke even. He likes to gamble and me not so much. Used to be in the guard so I guess that's a thing that's common. Him, not me. Not sure.
Beautiful Dreamer guards dreams. I know what you are thinking (that's a lie) but she not Luna. She works under her. My sister is real and that's the truth. Look, there are more ponies that are alicorns than you know. It's weird times to live in. Also my mom was a changeling. Don't freak out.
Don't freak out.
I'm not a changeling. My mom is harmless. She couldn't harm you if she wanted to. My mom never harmed anyone. This is not a lie. Kinda.
I can not feed off of love. I can not turn into other ponies. I can grow a horn and some wings. I can use my horn to write. I'm an idiot.
It feels so good not to taste that thing in my mouth.
I should write more about me. I'm kinda boring. Used to be in relationships but they weren't great. I wasn't great. Then I got hurt. Not with my heart but with my body. And this cute red headed mare I wanted to get with was beyond my reach. And this handsome bald stallion was too good for me. Not that they ever said that. I don't think they know how I feel about them.
That's a lie. The mare does but she's married to a nice mare but that mare has problems and I don't need to add my problems to them. Baldie got a mare but she would be okay with things. I'm just not good enough for them. That's okay. I'm figuring things out and will. I'll be okay, maybe. I should talk about you Melody Breeze.
My last name is Dreamer. My first name is stupid to write down. Your name is perfect.
But you aren't. You're broken and it's not going to be okay. I can't make it okay. I can't. Buck me.
I got this stupid letter wet now... just ignore the stains.
I didn't read your whole letter. Just bits with my bits. I'm going to read it again front to full.
Call me Penny Dreamer. It's only half a lie and that's better than an unknown lie.
Don't know about your agent. You draw and paint stuff. Never seen your work. Bruschetta sounds something that won't hurt my guts. I like pickles and tacos. You know what tacos are? I really don't have a life other than my hobbies.. and.. whatever I just wrote. And my rambling on about finding ponies.
I'm not a good friend but I can still be a friend. So it's not okay now for you. Your life. That's the truth. But life isn't static. It changes. Problem is I think either one or both of us are not real. Lie or truth? It's real when it's outside. Scary place but I rather be afraid then lying to myself. I'm going to read this letter I wrote again.
Again.
Again.
I rewrote this so there wouldn't be spelling mistaeks and no wet letter marks. I should have not copied it word for word – sort of... but not going to write it again. Know I am not good enough to be your best friend but I can find ponies who could be.
It's what I can do.
Penny Dreamer
P.S. I'm a stallion so that's name is kinda, kinda weird to have. That's okay.
