Odes of Glory and Ponies · 5:24am Sep 9th, 2013
Man, things have been a little rough lately. I can't sleep worth oats lately, and my human has had it even worse. Poor bloke having violent dreams lately. Actually the same has been happening with me. You'd think a bean bag is easy to sleep on, but I can't get comfortable on it. I keep seeing visions of razed fields, skulls of unicorns and pegasi piled a mile high, Cloudsdale in flames...
Here's the worst thing. Something in those dreams say that Cloudsdale isn't Cloudsdale, but instead it was called something like Fort Thunderhoof. Also in that dream I had wings, but I couldn't fly. Weird thing is, even with my wing disease (which I should probably ask someone about around now) I could flutter around, kind of hover, but actually flying? Tricks? Speed? Nothing. Kind of a bad thing for someone who needs speed when he wants to get around. Anyway, dreams are just your brain overreacting to your awesomeness.
I found some old books in my apartment that someone had left on my doorstep. Probably my mom who wanted me to keep some of my old pony tales for late night reading. I really want to post some of them. For some reason though, your stories on here need to be around a thousand words, but these are odes. Crazy stuff too, about the great Crystalline Wars. Well, I guess I can try to convert them to prose, but I'm not all into that, I like lyrical stuff.
*WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRR*
DAMN IT, WINGS, NOT NOW!!! *click click hissssssssssssss*
*facehoof* For those that don't know, steamwings have some sort of alarm clockwork inside them, which makes them vibrate. If I don't actually go out and fly the wings shut down for maintenance. Probably the dumbest mechanic in the world, but keeps me active. And the clock time is 48 hours. So I'm going to go fly over to my old stomping grounds, over at the Wonderbolts Academy. Yeah, I'm an honorary member. I don't remember how, but it has to do with Spitfire, I know that. Seismic Riff, signing off.
