Author's Note

An author doubting their own work is cliché. However, this chapter is questionable. If I made this professionally, I probably would’ve removed it. But alas, I put a little effort into it, thus your eyes will be graced by an horrible understanding of politics, which I disavowed before I even wrote this chapter. At least my watching of JREG and my chronic online-ness gave me a perfect framework that Lost views the world through.

Also sorry about any wait. I was too busy playing high-brow, intellectually challenging games and listening to calming music. As a side mission I also had to learn for computer science, law, and economy science.

I have reached the peak of comedy. I say the opposite of what I mean.

Laugh.

*Sniff* In The *Sniff* Supermarket *Sniff* Of Ideology – Choosing Your Blood Group

“Wake up, you don’t get to laze around all day. Time is money.” Somecreature screeches into your ear.

You groggily open your lids. The light reflecting from the mare before you is golden, it reaches your iris and receptors. The signal is sent from your eyes to your brain. It processes the new information.

A horn and wings.

Alicorns: This is the end. You are at her mercy.

“AAAAH.” Muscle memory, long since forgotten, reawaken. You throw your blanket. Her face gets covered. A thrust. You’re off the bed. Stand up. Stand up. Gallop. Momentum. The door. Distance’s short.

A force. You’re off your feet. Your tail is grabbed. “Eww, you should clean that.” She is holding you in her magic. The blanket is off her. “Now listen, THIS is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You whimper.

“Why would I do that? That sounds mighty unprofitable. You see, I am an entrepreneur. And I think we can make a deal to bring us both revenue!” You look at the large, insane mare, her smile is wide and friendly. On her flank is the currency symbol of the bit.

“Liberalism, you need to work on your propaganda.” Another Alicorn, she is red. A cutie mark of a horseshoe and a hammer is plastered on her flank.

“Communism, you classist, it isn’t propaganda, it’s advertisement.”

“Whatever you call your solicitation, kulak, it isn’t working. Drop him.”

The golden mare frowns but does so. You face connects to the floor. Before you can recover Communism stands before you, grabs you with a hoof and uprights you. “What do you want?” you say with your little breath.

“Listen, comrade, we need you to choose. You need to believe.”

“Believe in what?”

“Believe in ME.” Another alicorn. It is getting crowded inside your small bedroom. The new brown, uniformed mare with a bundle of sticks and an ax as a cutie mark marches forth. She observes your room. “This a pathetic stature.” Communism, as she gets pushed aside, looks at the new mare with pure, unadulterated hatred. The authoritative alicorn who is clearly hated by another standing in front of you doesn’t alleviate your fear. “Straighten your back and legs, look around and see the filth you’re living. Your forebearers and family would be ashamed, you should be ashamed of yourself. It is simply not right to wallow in your filth.”

Fearing her authority, you obey her commands. Joints that are long unused to be in this position pop as you straighten yourself.

“Fascism,” the red mare uses the name as an insult “, go die in a ditch, my sensitive flower. He doesn’t need your call for tradition. He needs collective and communal help. Look at him,” the three alicorns look at you, they are talking about your bedroom, this is the worst attention you ever got “,he is mentally unwell. Society needs to help him.”

“Pah, society,” the golden mare says, “there is no such things as society. He is an individual and as an individual he needs to clean his room. Maybe after that, he can interact with that mystical ‘society’.” She looks at you “Do you really want to live off other’s wealth? Do you want taxes to save you, like a leech?”

No, of course you don’t want to be a parasite.

“You know,” oh, no, not even The Powers That Be could save you now, another alicorn, she is laying in your bed, “I kind of agree with Communism. Though I wouldn’t approve with her wording. What he needs are friends.” She is lilac. A picture of six crystals adorns her flank.

Well, having friends would also be very nice.

“Harmony, you’re teaching him to be weak.” Fascism says, “You don’t need friends. There are no things like friends. There are only subordinates and competitors. And you don’t want to be subordinate, do you?

No. Why would you?

“Look at Liberalism. She is doing it right.” You do, the other mares do as well to see what she is getting at, the golden mare “She is rich, very rich. Fellow pony, do you think she did it through friendship? She didn’t. Every bit she earned is covered in blood.”

“It isn’t. I meet all my clientele and workers on equal hoofing.”

Communism rolls her eyes “Sure you do.”

Fascism laughs. “Look, she is so good at this façade of civility and freedom.” She looks at you, “I, we, don’t need these pitiful things.”

“Enough,” Harmony intervenes “let us not point hooves at each other. Dear Lost, if you want to solve your problems you need to simply talk about it. If we talk our differences out and find a compromise, we will surely solve our problems.”

“You can’t eat words.” Communism spits at Harmony’s words “Comrade, you already met my daughter. You even swore your loyalty to, my daughter. It is not a far cry to start believing in me.”

This attention and bickering from these alicorns are slowly draining you.

“Your daughter?!” Harmony stands from your bed, her anger focused on Communism “You stole her from me!”

Communism shows a smug grin “She came to me, willingly. You have only yourself to blame.”

The lilac alicorn pushes the others aside, coming way too close to you “Stop with this silly soldiering.” You unrelaxingly relax your posture “Dear Lost, you need to believe in harmony. Equestria has been living with it for milenias and it’s doing well. Friendship and magic are blossoming. It is working. There is no reason for you to believe something that disrupts it. The princesses are on their thrones. Everything is normal. Even the communist will see how childish they are being. What happened in Princessyn is nothing more than a misunderstanding and mismanagement.”

You finally found your voice “D-do I have to believe in one of y-you?”

“Yes.” They all answer in unison.

“I-is there no other option?”

“There is also Nihilism,” Liberalism says “,but she didn’t see the point in coming.”

Thankfully. Another alicorn would have driven you to insanity, however that wouldn’t have changed much. “Is believing in Stalliongrad not enough?” you say.

“Yes, absolutely, it’s enough. There is nothing greater than looking out for one’s fellows, protecting one’s own home.” Fascism says “It’s important that you preserve it. But that isn’t enough. You must take what once was lost. I saw Stalliongrad. She is scarred, beaten, and bloodied. Do you know what caused it?”

You shake your head.

“Change did. I know, you don’t remember the good ol’ times, but it was simply better. Young ponies still could afford to feed a whole family, the tribes didn’t hate each other, every creature was in their own little place. ”

The other three look at each other in a ‘what is she talking about?’ look.

“Good luck in your mission of turning back time.” Liberalism speaks up “The past, his past, is nothing he should return to. He should learn from it.”

“Then he should do it better with a straight back, a clean room, and looking forward.”

Communism sneers “Scumbag, no he shouldn’t. He should not only learn from it; he should eliminate the contradictions that caused them.”

“Why should he now?” Harmony says “Isn’t the right-now not enough? He already drank himself out of addiction. No bit of chemical desire flared up in his brain since he woke up.”

This is getting really creepy. Not only are they talking about you like you are a child whose behavior needs to be corrected, they know things they shouldn’t.

You already know why.

“You don’t exist!” you exclaim loudly to the bickering mares “I don’t have to do anything. Why should some vague ideologies have alicornifications? This is a joke. Just let me be.”

“Oh, we don’t exist?” Harmony says to you “I appear very real to me. If a vague concept as love or friendship have alicorns, then why shouldn’t communism, liberalism, fascism, or Harmony?”

“Then why are you in the bedroom of a random pony?”

“Because you are available. We always need new followers to believe in us to keep us alive.” Communism says. “It is not the king that makes the slaves into the slaves, but the slaves that make the king into the king .”

“Not only that, but you also need to understand the world for what it is, and learn how to survive and thrive in it.” Liberalism says.

“Yes, thrive and dominate. This rock on which you’re living in is unforgiving, and like any rock it will crush you if you’re not careful.” Fascism says.

You can’t choose. How should you choose ‘the right’ ideology; you cannot even remember your own parents’ names or your own birthday. That is a high task.

“Ok ok ok. I will choose,” you say, “eventually. I still need to learn … everything. Please, give me some time. I-I just can’t right now.”

“That is reasonable.” Harmony says, looking at the other three who nod with reluctance.

“You should choose a patron sooner than later.” Fascism says, kicking your door open and leaving.

“Farewell, dear.” Harmony says leaving through the door. You hope that it isn’t damaged.

“See ya later, cowpony. Also, clean your room and take a shower,” Hey! You already took a shower yesterday “,you won’t be doing any venturing when you smell like piss.” And she’s gone.

“Comrade, as the proletariat we are all on the same boat; we watch out for each other.” She walks out.

Finally, the calm returns to your room. You are alone once again, and this time you are happy about it. Dispute, arguments, and conflicts sucked every single tad of strength in you. Yet you have to continue. The sheets still need to be cleaned, you still need to get a job, and you still need to continue living. What a bother.