I find that I must end. Yet, I yearn for clarity to return to my mind, yearn for breath to re-enter my lungs. My heart's desires are quite minuscule at best. Yet, they are basic needs every being has.

Why does my mind need this ever-clouding fog? Why does my chest weigh heavy? Why does the world crush my body? Am I not allowed to live? Why must I be hunted by the fangs of beasts unknown to me?

These questions I ask have no meaning or answer. They just, linger, on every rancid breath I exhale, on every impaled thought I have…

At times I have wished for the strength to withstand the brunt of this storm I hold. Other times I have wished for others to lend me their hooves, so I might be able to keep my head above the water seal. There are darker times when I have wished I be vaporized to ash so that I might be able to be free on the back of the open breeze.

Why is the idea of destiny the most abhorrent thing to be ever thought of? Is destiny a tangible thing I can reach out and touch? Is it metaphorical in comparison? But if it is this then what do we compare it to? Can we even have the right to compare it to anything? I do not know.

I find my exertion to never be adequate. I try ever so hard to bestill a favor in those I hold dear, yet, I find it will never be enough. My body bends and breaks, and yet it does not fall apart at the seams when cut. I have offered tribute to the gods, my family, and my friends, yet, they still do not take to my flesh, blood, sweat, and tears. Why is this? Is my flesh rotten to the bone? Is my blood putrid to look at? Does my body fester? Why does no one look at me?

This world is bleak, yet it holds colour still. How can a paradise full of life and whim, feel so lifeless and cold? The very concept is queer to me. Yet I still walk among everyone as if there was to be no care in my heart. I function like the rest of you, even if my feelings tell me otherwise. I feel slightly askew from the normality of the space around me. Am I real? Is this space I occupy real too? Are all of these other ponies real? Or is all of this just a figment of my imagination? I could not tell you the difference, even if I tried.

I wonder if I took the steps needed to free myself, would my soul glow with radiance or dim to a flickering flame? There is only one way to find out, isn’t there?

I shall take the plunge into the unknown. I wish you all well, with your lives.

~ Starburst

Author's Note

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