I gingerly close the front door behind me, much gentler than my usual slam, and rest my head against it with a sigh. The day to day tedium of life seems to get worse every time I wake up, though I get the feeling that it's just in my head, and nothing is actually changing. If anything, I'm the thing that's changing, becoming more dissociated and apathetic with each passing day.
I trudge into the kitchen and flick the light on with one of my wings. It's a bit of a mess; a small pile of dirty dishes rest in the sink, the garbage can is overflowing, the table and counter are coated in a thin layer of grime, and remnants from the previous day's dinner remain on the table. A half-eaten peanut butter an jelly sandwich and a couple of apple cores. Yum.
When I open the fridge, the food I thought I'd find is no longer there. I facehoof myself and allow the door to swing shut. Today was grocery shopping day, yet I'd completely forgotten to buy food on my way home. Oh well. I'll just have to pick some up tomorrow.
I plop into my chair and poke aimlessly at the leftovers for a few minutes. Stale bread doesn't have a pleasant texture and I don't know what jelly does when it's left out for a day, so I decide it's probably better to just starve.
Sitting in place with nothing to do gives me plenty of time to think, but I have no idea whether or not that's a good thing. It seems like being left alone with my thoughts always makes things worse.
I let my mind wander and sigh again. I'm living my dream; I'm a seamster, making clothes for ponies and seeing them smile as they put on my creations for the first time. I've got my own decent-sized house, I'm not strapped for cash, and there's nothing remotely bad in my life. It's everything I've ever wanted, so why do I feel so empty? How can a pony who has everything just want to end it all?
I shake my head and look out at the blue sky through the window. I promised my mom years ago I wouldn't try to kill myself. I don't want to put her through that kind of pain again. The best I could hope for was for some crazy villain to show up again and pray I get caught in a crossfire or something. That way it at least wouldn't be my fault.
I glance back at my filthy kitchen. A year ago I'd never have even considered allowing it to get in this state. It's just hard to care about stuff like that anymore.
I spend a couple of hours cleaning up. The garbage is first; I tie up the bag and drop it through the back door to be collected in the morning. After that I spend almost two hours scrubbing and rinsing the dishes. While they're drying, I decide to do something about the filth covering everything. I grab a soapy rag and wipe down the table, countertops, and sink. After a good scrubbing everything gleams, and the sink is so shiny that I can see my blue eyes reflected back at me. I drape the rag over the edge of the sink and walk out of the kitchen to my bedroom. I wasn't really hungry anyway.
It's hard to remember a recent time when I actually had the motivation to do anything. When I was younger I'd spend every waking moment working, playing, doing anything just to not feel useless, but it's hard to find a reason anymore. Nothing I do matters, so why bother? Even if I could just distract myself by trying to be happy again, that would just be running from my issues without solving anything.
The thing is, I don't think there are solutions to my problems. If I changed who I was as a pony, that would eliminate a good portion of them. I just don't want to change for a society I hate and want no part in. Maybe making a friend or two would make me feel better and even give me a purpose, but I'm much too shy to do that, and even it I wasn't, nopony worth knowing would ever want to be friends with me. I'm quite possibly the dullest and most annoying pony in Ponyville. I probably even have a shot at the title of 'Least Liked Pony in All of Equestria.'
I glance out of my bedroom window, where the sun is setting over the trees. It's quite beautiful out there, and I often find myself wondering what would happen if I went under the radar before offing myself. If I disappear suddenly and end up eaten by a carnivorous plant or at the bottom of the ocean, would anypony think I'm dead? I could leave a note saying I left to live in Saddle Arabia or the Crystal Empire or something. After all, if my mom never finds out I killed myself, she couldn't be sad about it, right?
I sigh yet again and sit on the foot of my bed before resting my chin on the windowsill. The sunset has consumed almost the entire sky, turning it to warring shades of yellow, orange, and purple. It's quite a beautiful sight.
As much as I want to, I know I can't take my own life. There are countless theories as to what happens when a pony dies, and I don't know what to believe. Does heaven or hell await me? Will I be reincarnated as a cockroach? Is the only thing after life a vast nothing? Life may be torture, but if there's one thing I've learned over the course of my life, it's that I'm a massive coward. I'm too scared to take that risk again. The first time I tried to commit suicide, all I could feel as I slipped from consciousness was mind-numbing terror. That fear is the only thing keeping my hooves moving each day.
I sigh for the fourth time that evening. As I sit there watching the sunset, all I can do is hope against hope that I miraculously work up the courage someday. Life is, after all, an exhausting waste of time and effort.
