//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 
// Story: Curious 
// by I_Post_Ponies 
//------------------------------//

I sometimes wish I could hear what other ponies are thinking.

Not as a means to spy on their thoughts to manipulate them, but out of a focused curiosity. I want to know the complexity of their lives. Often, I feel I am the only one with more on my mind than what’s in front of me. Speech is a terrible communicator, when I think about it. Or maybe ponies just think too much.

I know I do.

It really strikes me at parties (goodness knows, Pinkie throws enough of them). There’s such a commotion, a vortex of words and expressions, an abundance of communication. I can feel life in a party. Sometimes… sometimes I think I can even touch another pony’s thought. But then I realize I’ve already had a hundred go through my head.

I’m most alone in crowded rooms.









It’s late — really late, actually. I’m sitting and thinking about things. About the day, about stories, about music. The sort of things I usually think about when I’m keeping myself company.

I’ve noticed that thinking isn’t always a good thing. It’s a form of self-evaluation and reflection… and that can go places beyond what is healthy. The mind makes it too easy, sometimes, to go down that road. The path is so subtle, so straightforward that I find myself completely lost on it with no way back. I can’t unthink thoughts.

Perhaps I’m not cut out for philosophy.

I spent part of the day walking by a park. I don’t know what it is about that place that captivates me. Maybe it’s the safety I find in the organized freedom of nature. On my walk, I found myself thinking again. A harmless kind of thinking, a clear mind that only comes when I’m in the park. When I’m pondering there, my mind is blank in an odd sort of way. I feel like a freeway of thoughts, nothing slowing down or stopping, but running through quickly like there’s somewhere to be. Only when I leave can I grasp something.

I think I like it that way.