A Void A Bar A Street A Park Out In The Wild She Might Lose Her Head
“Im dreaming?”
“Yea.”
“Ahhhh…got you.”
“Sure.”
“Who are you?”
“A bird.”
“Well I see that, because you look like, a…um, a bird, yea, I gathered that information.”
“Nice.”
“But, why am I dreaming of you?”
“I dunno.”
“What do you mean you dont know?”
“How would I know, I’m from your brain.”
“Nooo, I feel like you an astral projection, like a spirit visiting me.”
“No I am not.”
“No, you are.”
“Pretty sure I’m not.”
“Ok Great Spirit, what is the meaning of your visit?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you represent?
“A bird.”
“No, that's what you are, but what is your meaning?”
“...that I fly?”
“Hmmmm, I have to earn this one.”
“Sure.”
“What type of bird are you? You look like a sparrow. Are you a sparrow?”
“Maybe.”
“You're a sparrow.”
“Ok.”
“But what do sparrows represent?”
“I dunno, most likely being sparrows.”
“No, because you could be any bird, but you're a sparrow, and you're flying in front of me in technicolor purple. And, you're talking. Birds don't speak english fluently, so this must mean you represent maybe…a crossing of the barrier of animalistic values and language?”
“That went over my head.”
“Now listen, I am in a void.”
“Sure.”
“And so are you.”
“Correct.”
“So we are in a void…of nothing-”
“Of purple.”
“Sure of purple but that's not important.”
“Wait, why not?”
“Well that's just the backdrop, so it really is inconsequential.”
“Why would the color of the void be inconsequential, it is literally the setting, is that not one of the most important parts of storytelling? Why would the characterization of the setting not mean anything?”
“Well…I’m purple, so it's…that's why?”
“Thats it? Im a Great Spirit yet the setting is just purple because thats the color of your fur?”
“...yessss, that is the correct conclusion.”
“Why don't you want to look into the whole setting you're in?”
“Its too confusing, ok? Thats a whole other ball game I need to partake in, you know, its easier to see hwat you mean than to see what everything around me means. I will be lost in thinking about everything, placing everything together. And your trying to distract me.”
“I promise you I am not.”
“Stop distracting me.”
“Ok.”
“Why do you wish to distract me?”
“Purple is royalty.”
“Stop it. Why do you distract me so?”
“I’m not.”
“Are you warning me Great Spirit?”
“My name is Bob.”
“Bob?”
“You came up with it.”
“No, I didn’t, you wandered in through the spirit realm.”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
“Ok, Bobbbbbbbb, so what is your visit?”
“Maybe I’m dreaming of you. Maybe you're visiting me.”
“You're just a sparrow appearing in my dreams, and ok, so maybe you aren't from the heavens, but you do have to represent something.”
“Do you like birds?”
“They amuse me.”
“That’s a wild answer.”
“Ok whatever Bob.”
“You used my name!”
“Maybe that's it, I need to accept people for who they are!”
“Well actually I’m Rainbow Dash.”
“What? Nooooo…”
“Yea, it’s me, Rainbow Dash.”
“Oh wow, it really is. Wait what happened to Bob?”
“Bob?”
“I liked him.”
“Who's Bob?”
“A little sparrow.”
“Why would you dream of him?”
“I don't know, that's what I was trying to figure out.”
“Dream of me, I’m cool enough.”
“I already am.”
“So, what do you want to do now you're dreaming of me?”
“Nothing.”
“Wa?”
“Nothing, why did you pop up?”
“Cause, sugartits, you can’t stop thinking about me.”
“Sugartits?”
“Yeah sweetie munchkin pie little bombolla, you my sweetie.”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“You are.”
“Nooo, you are you just said it, I heard it, I would know.”
“Well I am you, so you made me say that.”
“No, now your doing some malarky.”
“Nope.”
“Stop doing mental gymnastics with me Rainbow, you usually aren't this quick witted to keep toe to toe with me. No offense to you, my dear friend, but my intellect defeats you by miles. Sometimes, I must admit, it feels like a curse, but it always can be a ble-”
“Doy doy doy duh duh duh.”
“What?”
“Duhduhduhduhduhduhduhduhduhduhd…”
“Are you kidding with me?”
“Nope. I’m just stupid.”
“That’s not true, don’t say that, love yourself.”
“I love you Twilight.”
“Oh gosh, thank you Rainbow.”
“It’s Bob.”
“What?”
“We’re in a bar.”
“What?”
Twilight was in a bar.
“Where am I?”
“A bar. I told you a bar.”
“Which one are you? Bob?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sitting beside me?”
“No, Im actually not with you.”
“What?”
“Your by yourself. Order a drink.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Of course not. Get a water.”
“I’ll get the water.”
“Good.”
“Is someone playing piano?”
“Yea, in the corner.”
“Is it a nice place?”
“It’s a wonderful place. Its nice and small, there a fireplace in the corner, and there are people dancing. To the piano. To the music.”
“I love it.”
“You should.”
Twilight smiled. She was happy, now that she was in a bar, but she got a water, a tall glass of water and so she grinned.
“I’m the bartender.”
“I’m Twilight.”
“Hello Twilight. Why are you here?”
“I don’t know, I’m dreaming.”
“I’m going to smile at you now.”
“Ok, thank you.”
“Enjoy your water.”
The water is black.
“The water is black.”
“Oh is it?”
“Yes, why?”
“Ciggarettes.”
“Why would I drink cigarettes?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know whats going on, Im losing it.”
“We all lose it. It’s fine Ms. Sparkle.”
“Right, but this is different, you know. I’m feeling sentimental. Like I know this place. Like I know you. And I’m thinking of my mother. I don’t know why, but I’m thinking of my mother. Is that normal?”
“No.”
“Ahhh.”
“Drink.”
“Is it ok if I don’t?”
“That’s your choice.”
“But do I know you?”
“Maybe, that’s up to you.”
“Are you my mother?”
“I can be.”
“But are you?”
“Not at the moment, no.”
“But…eventually, can we talk?”
“The pianist is looking at you, I suggest you go over there and have a little chat.”
“Sure, do I know them?”
“It’s Orangejack ma’am.”
“...huh.”
The bar was rustling, lively and the pianist stod up. Orange she was, beautiful blonde mane, and her mark of oranges. She stided over to Twilight. SHe smelt of citus.”
“I know you?”
“I’m Twilight.”
“Don’t recognize the name.”
“Are you real?”
“I reckon so.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“Hell of a thing to say to a stranger.”
“We’re not strangers.”
“How do you suppose?”
“Because your my friend, I see you all the time, and we hang out every day.”
“I would know if we did.”
“I don’t think you would.”
“Huh.”
“Do you know why I’m here?”
“No.”
“Do you think I’m dying?”
“You should see a doctor about that.”
“I was in a void a few moments ago. It was purple. It was nice. Now I’m here, and I don’t know why, I’m meeting many ponies, and I feel like I know everyone. I saw my friend earlier. But she’s gone.”
“Find her.”
“She’s out flying.”
“Can I get a beer?”
“Ask the bartender.”
“I did.”
“Ahhhh…”
“So you're dreaming? Am I a dream?”
“I think so. Do you have memories?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Why?”
“To see how deep it goes.”
“I used to eat breakfast with my mother. Eggs and orange juice, it never changed and I never minded, because my mother added milk to the eggs, which I know is normal but this was fresh milk, so it would taste wonderful, and then pepper and salt, and me and her would be the only ones up. I never could sleep as a child. I was sporadic. But she would make breakfast, add a biscuit, say it’s served and I would gobble it up and we would talk about what tp do that day, and we would be on the farm earlier than my father and brother. She was pregnant, you know, but she still worked. My sister came out fine. I remember that. I hated the hospital, I wanted to leave, but my sister cried loud. She really hurt my ears. She was beautiful, she really looked like a baby. Young. She grew up fast. But my mother, you know, she didn’t make it. So I always thought of my sister as my mother, which is weird now I’m saying it out loud, but it was like she was living with us. Then Pa caught a tumor a year or two after mother went, and he died. But that was ok, back up with Ma, so he would be happy. We were happy for him. I knew that he loved mother. That was good. I dedicated myself to work, and I started to forget about living. Living was my original sin. So I just worked, forgetting I lived…”
“And then…”
“And then I’m here.”
“You didn’t meet anypony, nothing to change you?”
“No.”
“Your story's not resolved.”
“Why not?”
“You need to find the meaning in the life you're living in.”
“You weren’t paying attention. I don’t want meaning.”
“Your out.”
Twilight is taken out of the bar, she is placed on a hill, but she doesn't feel anything, she was asleep and simply woke up on a hill overlooking the sunset. It is a empty hill, nopony around. It must be empty except for Twilight’s mother. She is old. She is dying. Twilight wakes up.
“Hello?”
“Hello dear.”
“Mom?”
“Yes it’s me, your mom.”
“...wow.”
“I’m with the sun. Im living in it’s fire.”
“Good to know.”
“I’m dying.”
“You look old.”
“You look old.”
“I do?”
“You look like me, my little girl.”
“Am I dying?”
“Look at the sun. Feel your heart.”
“Mom, I’m dreaming and I can’t wake up.”
“You're so sure you're dreaming? Look at the sun.”
Twilight doesnt look at the sun.
“Mom, I’m getting scared. I'm confused and scared.”
“It’s ok.”
“I must be dreaming, I know I’m dreaming. I can’t be not dreaming, this isn’t real.”
“It isn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why does death scare you?”
“...I don’t get it.”
“Theres nothing to get.”
“But it’s scary.”
“I don't think so. I think it’s great. I think it’s what we earn. We tried for so long. Maybe, maybe this is a rest. This is the finish line. The water in the marathon. The end.”
“You said I’m dying?”
“Yes.”
“Well everyone is dying, everyone is getting older, you know. So do you mean I’m dying as in aging, or as in right now? Am I in a death dream? Is this a halluciantion? Am I about to go?”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“But why not?”
“Because I’m gone”
Twilight's eyes fall and the smell of lavender fills her nostrils. She is transported far away, and in her slumber she dreams of sheep jumping over a fence, and meanwhile he brother stood away staring at her. She saw his silhouette. She heard a voice in her ear, and then she awak and she was in an office building.
“What? Why?”
It is bland.
“Yes, yes it is.”
She is blinded.
“Am I?”
Twilight forgets herself.
“Me?”
There is a stallion now, in a suit dressed up. He greets Twilight.
“Are you here for the job interview.”
Twilight is here for the job interview.
She is walks to a room. The hallway is bare, and from doors as she makes her way down, voices are heard laughing and screaming. The floor is of red carpet. It is from fame. Twilights room is at the end, and soon she arrives.
The room is bare, except for an exceptionally white table in the middle. Behind the table sits a large white mare. She is beautiful. She smiles. Twilight smiles.
“The interview?”
"Yes, I suppose, but I’m confused.”
“Why?”
“What am I interviewing for?”
“Everything.”
The cosmos stretch.
A breath.
“Oh wow.”
“Do you know me?”
“Maybe...?
“Do you?”
“I think so. Why am I here?”
“For a job interview.”
“I just watched my mother die. I don’t know what to make of that.”
“Answer my questions.”
“Your mane is a rainbow.”
“Take the test, you must take it, and you're stalling.”
“I thought I saw my friends, but it feels off. They love me right?”
“What are your qualifications?”
“I’m a princess.
“What is your reason for a job interview?”
“I was brought here against my will.”
“Do you know the reason?”
“No, it feels like a dream, but a trip, but a fever hallucination. I don’t know if I created this world, or if I’m living in a world of fake reality, or if this is true.”
“Truth.”
“Yes. Truth.”
“Do you need truth?”
“Yes. I can’t stand being in the dark.”
“Are you scared of the dark?”
“One time, I went to sleep and I dreamed of a creature in my dresser, and I screamed and screamed. My parents weren’t angry, they hugged me. I felt loved. They loved me. They told me I was silly, and there was no monster, and they were so sure, you know? And I was safe.”
“Good answer.”
“Where am I?”
“Do you feel fulfilled?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know, that’s the only answer I can give.”
“Not an answer.”
“No, I don’t, I feel pretty fucking empty, thats the answer. I guess I don’t feel nothing.”
“Have you felt love?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been loved?”
“I believe so.”
“Have you been held?”
“By my mother when I was a baby. She held me.”
“Have you ever been romantically sought after?”
“No.”
“Have you ever had feelings for a pony?”
“Yes.”
“And it was not reciprocated?”
“Correct.”
“What do you miss?”
“Why am I here?”
“For a job interview, I ask the questions.”
“No, listen, answer me, I don’t know where I am.”
“You're interviewing yourself.”
“You're me?”
“In the basic sense.”
“Why?”
“For a job interview.”
“Right, you said that.”
“You know these answers, that's what you think?”
“Yea, that's what I think.”
“Are you dreaming?”
“You tell me.”
“Are you floating?”
“I keep popping in and out of scenes. I feel like I'm being grabbed against my will. Floating is nothing like it.”
“You are dreaming?”
“I think I’m dying.”
“You have to fall.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere else.”
Twilight closed her eyes.
“It’s ok to be confused.”
“Yea it’s ok.”
“Go to bed.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Ok.”
“Twilight.”
“Bob?”
“Yes.”
“Bob, where am I?”
“Back in the void.”
“Oh, good.”
“There is a button in front of you.”
“There is?”
“Yes. It says ‘Wake Up’ on it.”
"Do I…do I press it?”
“That’s up to you.”
“What is this?”
“A button, I already said that.”
“No, I mean…this.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’m dying, aren’t I?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I’m being confronted by aspects of my life, all talking about death and memories, all telling my various stories, all making me remember. Like I’m dying. As if in my final breathe I see everything clearly, except this isnt clear, this is pretty damn confusing. So I don’t know anything, I don’t know if I have to forgive or apologize, if I have to give myself up. I don’t knwo what I’m supposed to see. I don’t get it, I don’t know. Is this about my fame? My royalty? My friends? My family? Or me? Why am I dreaming of this?”
“I don’t know.”
“What will happen if I press the button?”
“You’ll wake up.”
“In bed? Or…in…”
“How should I know?”
“Bob, please.”
“I don’t know, and that’s not as bad as you might think.”
“Why?”
“No matter what you see or what you think, or what you told, it’s still jarring how alone you truly are.”
“...”
“You're here Twilight. Here. There is no other place. Not yet. This, at the moment, is the life your living. You see reflections of yourself. Why I do not know. And I do not know if you are dreaming or dying, or if your hallucinating, it means nothing.”
“But...”
“Sometimes, when ponies dream…it's so they can sleep.”
“...so do I press the buttom?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m going to wake up.”
“Twilight?”
“Yea?”
“I think you’ll find that when you go into the light, and you finally see that everything means nothing, you can be free.”
whitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhite-
Author's Note
I know this is confusing as all hell, so I apologize for confusion anyone may have.
