LOPE Explanation (Don't Panic) six.

I am distraught. I am figmented. I have had my mind twisted and bent beyond explanation. I feel like I have been dumped right in the middle of a train station amongst complete and total strangers, and dumped out into the world to fend for myself. Or an elaborate shopping mall sized town buried deep within what was once a bustling major city. No one likes me very much, and around a quarter of them have an immediate leeriness about me. They will avoid me if they can help it, and they will scarcely try to hide their internal distrust of me, even though they will not say it out loud. They think me bad news, but I haven't caused any trouble, nor have I even been around to do much. I have kept to myself as I was encouraged, yet a small minority even seems to have a seething hatred for me, likely because I'm a-- What did they call it? I'll just say bug horse.

What I now look like is nothing like the average human being I looked like before. I seem to be some insect equine hybrid. My eyes are like gems, yet my vision hasn't been that dramatically altered, only partially segmented, and only part of the time, not all of it. They seem to take on their ... non? usual shape when around others, circular, yet when I look in the mirror in my own room, I see an insectiod horse with eyes shaped like gemstones, like a polygon of sorts, and my vision seems to take on the multi monitor thing I suggested. But they are their "Usual" roundness around others, most of which I presume know they are not like that when I am left alone.

I cannot read the minds of others, but their feelings are an open book to me, whether I want them to be or not. I'd rather not know about the seething hatred many of them have for the likes of me, and I'd wish to be oblivious to just how much some ponies love each other to extremes I'd rather not know. I'm not a mushy person at all, yet I find myself attracted to such couples, not romantically, yet their physical presence alone seems to call for me. My partial insect like appearance certainly does not make me any more approachable, and I can feel the discomfort of those majorities that don't hate me.

My back is like a black metal casing, only organic. It shines like polished silver, or stainless steel, yet the white-grey or perfectly colourless reflective surface has a jet black look until you shine a light on it, and it reflects, almost blinding, which, again doesn't help my case.

I feel nerves underneath them I cannot quite describe, but they feel like they should not be there, yet they should. They feel like something senseless constrained, yet inevitably going to be freed, if that makes any sense. I haven't had long enough to explore it all yet.

My legs have doubled, one for each corner of my new torso, yet each one is roughly identical. All four have a horselike overall shape, yet the bases of them feel tremendously hollow. Like I had-- or they had-- been pushed through a meat grinder or cheese grater. Or just got stabbed or shot bullets through repeatedly till the interiors were hollow and the damn exteriors somehow remained structurally sound. Not only that, but they are still firm enough to support me fully. I have not the least feeling of discomfort (not physically) that I will fall or have unsteady footing. I find my mouth to be roughly the same as a horses, along with my snout, the eyes being the most buglike. Fiddlesticks.

Oddly, I am at my most comfortable when I am alone, totally solo. Fuuu... fiddlesticks. I nearly felt scorched by an angry ponies' burning hatred not for me, (feelings towards me were actually neutral, even sympathetic) but what I presume is Equestrians, the people who did this to us, as it didn't seem directed at anyone present. I kept away from that potential time bomb, and got near a few others who got weary of me, but stood their ground and swallowed their discomfort and tedium. After five minutes, they all seemed a bit tired in spite of not doing anything strenuous. I was just as wide awake until this evening. Have I been doing that?

I have been advised by one of our hosts Scott Andrews to relax, breathe deeply, and write my thoughts out, so I did, even though I had to bite down on the pen and draw it across this page that way. Scottie started out by writing the first few words by that moving ability some ponies seem capable of. Oddly, the two of them do not seem very turned off by me, and claim they have met many like me, and know it's not our fault and that they are going to be fair about this. They know ch-- whatevers like us already have several strikes against us for being our specie as is, and they don't need more hardships than that. As much help as the rest need, they want to spend as much time with me and others like myself to see how well we hold up. I've never met anybody so sweet. I know they are being sincere, as only a pathological liar could fool me. Maybe they are, but I will guess not. Guess I am a polygraph tester now.

One horse I crossed paths with seemed sadder than the rest, and it left a sour taste in my mouth. Most of these horse, dog, and eagle lion creatures I have met have some form of tailor, custom made clothes on them, I presume the older ones did it first. And dragons. Passengers like us are either Au Naturale, which isn't as much of a problem as it would otherwise be, or we have loose fitting clothes held together with belts, ties ands laces, straps of any sort, most otherwise loose fitting. This stallion, this male horse has a dress on. A loose fitting one that still didn't fall off, equally due to quadrupedal stance and by virtue of it having been tight fitting before. Sudden Storm dispensed this info to me, and told me she doesn't usually dispense confidential info like that, but he needs a friend, and he never implied he wanted any secrets. I never said a word to him, but I will. I'd take the sourness of sadness over the bitterness of anger any day.

The most nourishment I've had all day is fear, as well as excitement, similar to an adrenaline rush. It happened shortly after the lecture hall was emptied and the smallest of our party was taken up the fire escape to the roof. I was there with James/Jessica and Scott when I felt a sudden rush of energy, and the desire to take on the world. I looked up above the garden and saw five figures next to the roof, one of which was Sudden on the corner of the roof hanging off partially, and the other four being suspended in midair, or surrounded by a blur of two other figures flying in circles. Two hovering mares, a gryphon and a dragon both of the latter carrying flailing and panicking ponies in their grasp.

One of them was that stallion she told me about who had a close attachment to his family and neighbors. I knew how he felt.

The second most was from clams, oysters, snails, anchovies, tuna, trout, eggs, dairy, and varied poultry most of us will stay away from. Land based meat doesn't have a tendency to agree with most of us, but I had no problems. I got to have it all in sample amounts, enough to have each and not stuff myself. The others can have all except the poultry, as one mare who did vomited all over the floor, or rather, she would have had the staff not caught her and bent her over a portable wash basin on wheels before she ruined the carpet. And beef and pork are completely out of the question. It is my understanding that there's not a single cow or a pig left anywhere in the world any of us in good conscience can touch without bad retribution fu-- screwing us over. That seems a bit too far, a bit too ridiculous even by the standards of the technicolour dream-- or nightmare-- we have walked into.

Come to think of it, I have yet to see a single real animal -- a non alien in body-- anywhere. Not a single cow, pig, turkey, fish (I haven't looked in the creek, TBH), or even birds. Insects have made their presence known, but they seem sparse. Most we see are gnats, flies, mosquitoes, and beetles, (real ones, not pony-sized ones), and bees and hornets. But as soon as we turn up, they flee and put as much distance between themselves and us as they possibly can. Only the select few are bold enough to stick around with us present. It's like they are hiding and fleeing us, and are way more observant and clever than they were. The most I have seen has been a solitary squirrel, and I just barely caught a glimpse before it vanished down the burrow.

I may have had a "meal" even more fitting than the two I had, and that's from the dog and the mare from before. This couple weren't exactly mean to me, but they *did* seem determined not to have me spoil their alone time with a third party. I have missed out on that, yet maybe not. How can the emotions of sentient life forms be a food source for another? I can taste their fear, but it cannot possibly sustain me alone, can it? Tomorrow, I'll try again.