Entry 1
Welcome to the Tartarus that is my life. I’m a middle aged stallion living in the suburbs slash rural Maneapolis. I’m from a traveling herd and about half my life ago I fell in love with a mare in Ponyville. We had three foals over ten years and moved here because it was closer to her family.
I guess nomadic life wasn’t in her genes because now here we are, in a cold land. And I mean cold as in it’s cold temperature is enough for me to get duck bumps under my coat while wearing a coat and boots during the cold wintery months, and the ponies are as cold hearted, it feels like, to any nomads.
Once the neighbors found out I was from a nomadic tribe they shut me out.
I’ll come back to that. My eldest son is twelve. He’s a stallion like his uncle, my brother not his mother’s. He just goes with the flow and keeps to himself. Lately he’s been playing games on the stratonet with other ponies from around the country.
I can’t believe Princess Twilight created a way for everypony to communicate across the world. Even not ponies like gryphons can write telegrams to each other and play chess or cards from across the land. It’s impressive but I’m worried what Blue is going to do, Feel Blue is my son, what he’s gonna do with it in his future. Granted, there was some help from the humans on the other side of the portal, but it’s still impressive.
Lilli Flower is my daughter and she is five. She’s about to earn her cutie mark, I can see it. She loved to talk, draw, write… I hope it’s something she loves and doesn’t dislike her mark. I did when I got mine, but that’s because I got a road with two trees.
Timber, that’s my little foal. He’s two… no, three. He’s three, that’s right. He got two cakes on his birthday. One from the neighbors and one from me. He was so happy he couldn’t stop galloping around. His little saddle barely had a chance to stay on with his energy and his mom had to keep stopping him to adjust it to fit him until it was pinching his skin.
When the party was over we took his saddle off and took a little fur with it. I was a bit upset but he was so happy, and thankfully asleep, that I couldn’t be mad at my wife for what she did. It wasn’t malicious, after all. He just really wanted to dress up.
Well, I’m a baker and cook at a local restaurant. I was fired from my last job recently but got a new one at a really nice place. A place frequented by the best of the best and the worst of the worst. A place where everypony knows your name and is always happy to see you, and if they aren’t they will be soon.
That’s right, I work in a bar kitchen.
It’s a little place with lots of loud music and ‘new beats’ as the youth call them. I can’t get into music that doesn’t have words or makes me shake in my horseshoes. I swear I can feel my teeth vibrating sometimes. Just between us, journal, I’ve sat on the floor and had some special moments, too.
For a stallion, that’s a big deal… that much bass, I can understand why mares love this place after one event that almost happened. Yeah, I almost climaxed sitting on the floor in the kitchen, mares must lose it easy when the music is pumping, bumping? Thumping? Whatever they call it.
There’s this cute mare, a servant of the owner, who I like to flirt with when I’m there alone. A lot of nights I work alone since it’s not that difficult making salads and soups for a bunch of drunk partiers. There’s a small book collection to keep me occupied when I’m done with my tasks at work and there’s more than enough tail to look at when it gets late enough.
The worst part, I think, of working where I do is that I can’t mate with the mares. I mean, sure, I could, and my family would never know… but they’re drunk, and that isn’t right. But, I have a lot that isn’t right about me, I guess. I have issues, that’s why I got you, journal. I won’t have a lot to say most days, but when I do write in you, it’ll hopefully make my life seem a bit better.
Maybe the troubles I have or, whatever, will be eased and I can get through them by writing them out. Write in you later.