The Death Of Derpy Hooves

      A week passed since Lyra last read Derpy's diary. She was simply too tired to read it, or already depressed by the things she had previously read. She never knew the pony who seemed the happiest could keep it hidden so well... but curiousity got the best of Lyra the more she thought about the diary.

      She just got out of the shower and was about to go to bed when she decided to keep on the small lamp in her room and read a little more.

      I was completely alone. The world tortured me, scarred me, and finally let me sink down to the worst possible living. The mail pony job just didn't keep food on the table, and I spent too much time there to get another job, if another company would even hire me.

      I sat down at 3 in the morning, 2 hours before work. I was beat to shit, and all I wanted to do was watch a little mind numbing television. I saw Filthy Rich on the TV now, my childhood bully, standing infront of everypony getting millions to cheer for his ugly ass face. Everyone listened to him, why? Because he was rich, and he had fame, and connections. Children were dead because of his stupid Rainbow Factory incident that happened last year, and all he did was sell the company to some racing pegasus to avoid the publicity, and still everyone loved him... everyone loved him just because od his fame and money! That was it I realised! I had to find a way to become famous, and if I did, I would get the money, and it would be a simple game of mind control. However, I had to use my powers for good, and if I could have that power, I could stop violence, discrimination, and eventually this blind following and hatred.

      First thing I did in the morning was head off to a big public party. The famous DJ PON3 was there playing some music, and the media was always on her. I stood right in the middle of the crowd where everyone could see me, and I tried to devise some way to get the attention of the camera. I started to mosh during the music in the most stupid and uncoordinated ways possible, simply to get a quick shot from the camera, and because this was airing on public television, I would get the best crowd attention.

      That night I got home after a day long concert, and when I got home my boss sent me my final check and told me I was fired for skipping work, and I wondered if my gamble was worth it, and sure enough, it was but not in the way I expected. I did appear on the TV, but the camera only zoomed in on me when I was staying still, the one moment I was. At first, I was aggrovated, but for whatever reason, people started paying attention to me because my eyes were lazy.

      The following day, I was the talk of the town. Everyone was talking about me because I was "the pony with the wall eye at the DJ PON3 concert" and it was perfect. I was asked to be on advertisements, and I was invited to all sorts of parties and social gatherings to create a story. I was even asked to model in designer clothing for big brand stores. My fame was perfect, and I knew I needed just a little more time before I gave out my message, the first step in the bigger picture of this plan.

      Time passed, and when I finally decided to open my mouth on the matter, and give my speech that took me many weeks to organise, everypony hated it. That was when I realised my entire career fame was dedicated to my wall eyes, and nothing more. People only liked the stupid me, not the real me, and when I decided to speak, I was avoided by the media, and even censored if I would appear on TV. I think it's funny that people only like you when you keep your mouth shut, and you just fit into the cold casket society builds for you. I had travelled a million miles to get to nowhere.