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// Fluttershy - Why Are Others Mean 
// Story: One on One Philosophy with Discord 
// by CrackedInkWell 
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Discord put his cup down. “Alright, what’s wrong?”
 
This sudden question caught Fluttershy off guard. “What?”
 
“You have been quiet for a good ten minutes,” he pointed out, “usually as soon as I come waltzing in, you tend to get rather chatty over this or that. Especially during our tea parties. But up until now, you haven’t said a word.” He leaned forward. “And whenever you haven’t said a word, that usually means that something, somewhere, has gone wrong. So, what happened?”
 
Putting her cup gently down on a low standing table where it didn’t make a sound, she sat upright in her green chair. “Nothing. I don’t think it’s worth talking about, it’s nothing major.”
 
“Nothing? That’s funny,” Discord replied, picking up a sandwich, “nearly every easily triggered, ticking time bomb through-out history tends to say those words roughly before they send out shrapnel to whoever is nearby.” He proceeded to have the sandwich spouting a few lines from King Lear before Discord ate it.
 
“It’s just…” Fluttershy began. At this point, with anyone else, Discord would try to persist until they lend out the truth of what’s wrong. However, even the Draconequus knew that tactic wouldn’t work on a pony as gentle as Fluttershy. He simply would have to wait for the truth. In the meantime, he had the cucumber slices and mustard put on an opera of The Magic Flute, sideways. Finally, she explained. “…. It’s about Rainbow Dash.”
 
“What did she do this time?”
 
She let out a long sigh, followed by a minute of her thinking of how exactly to phrase her predicament. “Discord… I know I don’t tend to ask this from you but… I think this time I have to make an exception.”
 
Discord raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s rather vague.”
 
“Well, Discord, I think I might need your philosophical lessons.”
 
“Ooh!” His tail wagged like a dog, the couch he was sitting on lifted and glided over to her. “It’s about time I got around to you. So, what will it be? A guide through having an existential crisis? The meaning of life? What was Haygel talking about?” Discord grinned widely.
 
“Uh… no?” Fluttershy answered, gently pushing him away by a hooftip to give herself some space. “Why are so many creatures mean?”
 
Discord’s tail stopped wagging and he tilted his head at an odd angle. “Mean as in…?”
 
“How come, sometimes, certain creatures can be so cruel, or angry, or-”
 
“Evil?”
 
Fluttershy nodded. “Yes, but no at the same time. I mean why would anyone be rude or get easily upset over something. Regardless if it’s deserved or not. I’m sorry, am I not making myself clear what I’m asking?”
 
“On the contrary, what you are asking is a serious study that has been sadly neglected.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“For one,” Discord leaned back on the couch, his arms went around to uphold his head. “Things like anger, next to things like facing up to depression or death, are so uncomfortable subjects to talk about, let alone read. Yes, I could shine a heat ray of a magnifying glass over to show you some causes of why… But I have to warn you, Fluttershy, you’re not going to like the answer.”
 
She breathed in. “Tell me.”
 
“No, you really are not going to like it.”
 
“Why not?”
 
Discord sighed, running his talon and paw through his mane. “Because this is something that, if the author hasn’t done it already, is probably guaranteed to royally upset someone who might be cheerfully optimistic on the one amputated hand, and the depressed cynic on the tree branch. Where does anger, or cruelty, or being a jerk for the sake of it come from… is something that risks sending anyone, you especially Fluttershy, into a volcanic rage where it may lay destruction for the next ten-thousand-years.”
 
He closed his eyes. “So, I’m going to leave you, and those listening in on this conversation, a fair warning. What you are about to hear and/or read, is, in its nature, upsetting. It will require to take a radical but ancient look at an idea where billions, if not trillions will viciously deny. If you are easily prone to anger at the drop of Angle Bunny’s satisfaction to anything, if you are convinced that you’ve never done anything wrong in your life if you get easily offended by someone who uses the word ‘triggered’ to describe you, if you are solely convinced that someone is pure evil just… because. And if you think that the best way to deal with this is to be overly cheery or become a depressive cynic where you disappoint yourself before the world does it for you – or probably punch a hole into your electronics out of anger – please, for the love of colorful fictional ponies, leave right now.”
 
Fluttershy and the readers waited for a good solid minute.
 
Discord opened an eye. “Still here? Well, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.” He cleared his throat. “So, before I proceed, I do have to make one little adjustment before I start talking.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
“Give me a second.” He said, conjuring up a machine that had a plunger with a wire connecting to it, a hand crank, a set of numbers sitting behind glass, and right below it was the words: AGE MACHINE. Discord slapped the suction bit of the plunger with wires on his head and started cranking. Before Fluttershy’s eyes, as the numbers were quickly flicking down closer to zero, Discord looked to be getting younger and younger. She watched as the Draconequus reverted from back from adult… young adult… teenager… and then near the numbers of 10,000, Discord stopped the crank. Although the number was huge, Discord himself looked smaller, didn’t have a goatee, his mane, antler and horn were shorter, his eyes bigger, and he looked a little… slightly chubby. “There we go!” Even his voice was noticeably higher. In other words, Discord reversed his age to that of a foal.
 
“Discord! You were so cute!” Fluttershy exclaimed.
 
“T-There’s a reason why I need to look and sound like this.” Discord said, blushing and rubbing the back of his head. “I figured that if I try to present the lesson in a way that’s more uh… easier to swallow.”
 
“Yes but, why as a foal?”
 
“Have you ever noticed how nowadays that whenever young foals throw a fit they’re easily forgiven?” Discord asked, popping the plunger off his head and floating over to Fluttershy. 
 
She nodded. “Well of course. Especially towards the very young animals here. Why I had a chick flamingo that was being fussy because she didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
 
“Yeah, same idea here!” Discord said. “I figured that when I talk to you about something so upsetting, you wouldn’t see me, as the adult talking about it, but as a kid.”
 
“But you’re not in trouble, are you?”
 
He shook his head. “No, but I think it’ll just be easier to help you understand why some can be nasty.” After taking in a breath and sitting on the armrest of Fluttershy’s chair, he asked, “So, are you ready?” She told him that she was. “Okay. I think it’s best to start with why there’s anger.”
 
“Wait! Before you do.” Fluttershy got up to refill their cups with tea and handed his cup before sitting back down and tugging at his cheek. “That’s better.”
 
“Fluttershy!” Little Discord waved his paw and talon, “This is important, can you take me seriously for a minute?”
 
“Oh… I’m sorry. The look works a little too well. Sorry, go on.”
 
“Okay.” He took in a deep breath. “So, whenever you encounter someone angry, what do you think of them?”
 
Fluttershy sipped her tea. “I see them as, well, gloomy. They can be so gruff, frightening and dangerous in how they shout and smash things. Even hurt others too.”
 
“Yeah, it tends to look like it. But the truth is, especially towards those who are angry, have you noticed something odd?” She shook her head, giving a confused look. “That the angriest folks you’ll ever meet, are oftentimes the most optimistic.”
 
“But that doesn’t make sense. I thought optimists are happy types that see the world as the glass half full.”
 
Discord nodded. “Yet, that’s exactly the problem.” Waving his tail, he took out from underneath the pillow between them a book. A foal’s book with simplified, colorful artwork with the picture of a sulking King Sombra on a throne. Fluttershy noticed the title The Sulking Sombra. “Would you believe that one of the most feared, cruel and violent ponies in history was the most optimistic pony that ever lived?”
 
“What? Sombra? Never.”
 
“Here, let me show you,” Discord said, sitting on her lap and flipping open the pages of the picture book. He turned to a page where Fluttershy can see the moving drawings as Discord began to read. “This is Sombra. He is often very angry. He has countless slaves who are forced to serve him by making him do all his chores and has strict rules for them to follow.” He turns a page to Sombra eating dinner by candlelight. “One of these rules was that no slave was allowed to interrupt his dinner at 7 o’clock.” He turned the page to a panicky slave rushing in and a wide-eyed Sombra. “One day, a slave burst in to tell Sombra that the Diamond Dogs were attacking his kingdom.” Discord turned the page to where the drawing of Sombra was overturning the dinner table, punching the slave, and turning into a scary dark mist – much to Fluttershy’s discomfort. “Now Sombra is shouting! He has destroyed his dining room, broken the slave’s bones, and smashed several walls into pieces! Sombra is shouting because he is deep inside so…” He turned the page, and while the destruction continued, that inside the dark mist was a chalk outline of a miserable Sombra. “Hopeful.”
 
Fluttershy was silently confused. 
 
Discord turned the page. This showed a group of slaves cowering in a corner while the tyrant screams at them. “Sombra at times loses small things like keys, crowns, and body parts. Today, he has lost the key to the dungeon. ‘WHERE HAS IT GONE!’ he screamed at the slaves. ‘WHICH ONE OF YOU TOOK IT!’ Sombra is shouting, because deep inside, he’s so…” He turned the page, where the only difference was that Sombra’s shadow on the wall was looking at the slaves sadly. “Hopeful.”
 
He turned the page again to a balcony of the Crystal Empire with a disgruntled Sombra looking out at the empty fields, except for a few soldiers in armor. “Sombra expects to go conquer the world. His army is much smaller than he liked. This is an outrage!” He turned the page to a Sombra who was in the process of beating a pony in armor. “He goes to the general of his army and gives him a piece of his mind. Now Sombra is shouting, punching, kicking, and biting. He does this because deep inside, he’s so…” He turned the page, and on the floor, Sombra was beating himself. “Hopeful.”
 
“But I don’t understand,” said Fluttershy, “why would Sombra be so hopeful?”
 
“Because, like everyone else,” a young Discord explains, “that regardless of all the times he runs into these over and over again, he stubbornly holds onto a faith in a world that others will always understand him, that small items don’t go missing for no reason, and that our grandest of plans will always, always materialize.”
 
“Wait, none of those things happen all the time.”
 
Discord nodded. “But I think I understand why.” He whistled and a picture frame from one of the walls sprouted wings and flew over into his hands. “Do you remember what it was like as a baby?” Fluttershy shook her head but saw the picture that Discord was holding. It was one of her parents and her as a very little foal. “You see, when we were babies and didn’t know how to talk, we had to rely on these two giants to take care of us. They magically seem to know what we needed. That they knew what our favorite food was. Sometimes we needed our diaper to be changed. Or that we needed some sleep. Yes, this was love, but in reality, they too were guessing at our needs. This assumption followed us as we grew up. That if someone really cares about us – honestly and truly – then there would be no need for either of us to speak up about what we want.”
 
“But what does that have to do with Sombra?”
 
“Simple. Because, among so many reasons, he maintained a faith that he would be able to get his way without using words to convey what he needs. And when he became king, his expectations grew higher and higher to the point where when something bad does happen to him, it happens so fast and so unexpectedly, that he screams. When he gets angry, he does it not because he’s evil, but that he’s presented with some unpleasant surprises that happen so quick and unexpected that it… for lack of better words, triggers his fight or flight response.”
 
“Are you making this up?” 
 
Discord smirked, “For example: the more you tell someone that they’re wrong, the more they’ll think they’re right.”
 
“No, Discord I think you must be mistaken-”
 
“And just like that.” The little Discord snapped his talons to where a large balloon appeared out of nowhere. Laying on it belly-first, he floated over to boop her nose, “You proved my point. I just gave you something that goes against your expectations, and without thinking why you dug further into them.” He floated over her head, “You’re not alone, Fluttershy, there have been studies from Psychologists. And what they found was that being told your wrong hurts so much alone, that it lights up the same area of the brain of the fight or flight response. In other words, shattering expectations has the same effect as being in physical pain.”
 
“If that were true,” Fluttershy mused, “and if anger is an extreme form of surprise, how come they continue to be angry despite encountering the same thing over and over? Wouldn’t they have learned to expect it?”
 
“I told you,” Discord let go of the picture, in which it perched on a nail in a wall. “He was too optimistic. Because he maintains a belief that things will become better for him over time. That surely, this or that hiccup will pass and never be encountered again. However, he is caught in a cycle where he is continuously disappointed and surprised. Perfectionists get caught in this trap too, but they and the local optimist have something in common: it’s because they set their expectations of what life will be like far too high.”
 
“So, you’re saying that anger comes from high expectations?”
 
He nodded. “That’s part of the reason.” Discord hopped off the balloon and onto a ceiling beam. Sitting down to let his legs and tail dangle off, he looked over to her. “However, there is another piece to the puzzle. And this applies to not just to villains, but to… Pretty much everyone.”
 
“And what’s that?”
 
Taking out a pair of dark sunglasses, Discord put them over his face. “What if I told you,” he said, “that no one – not Chrysalis, not Tirek, not Cozy Glow, not Sombra, or even Rainbow Dash – is bad just… because. What if I told you, that the worst kind of folks aren’t just evil for the sake of it? What if,” he tilted his glasses, “they are scared or in pain.”
 
“I…” Fluttershy tilted her head. “Don’t follow.”
 
“In other words, what if every bad guy or your casual jerk is actually somebody who doesn’t know how to cope?” 
 
“But I don’t understand. You’re not making much sense. Are you telling me that even the worst action that any villain has done can be… justified?”
 
Discord shook his head, tossing the glasses away. “I admit, even I don’t know if doing just that could be done. However, what can, is to look at the causes of all of it. I am not asking you to accept every horrific thing, rather, to look at where it comes from. Regardless of who they are, that while their behavior looks strong, intimidating, frightening, or destructive; I promise you that no one mature enough who felt strong would behave like this.”
 
“But they still do anyway,” Fluttershy commented, taking up to the air, holding her tea in her hoof.
 
“Now that’s true.” Discord said, tying the ends of a rope swing from out of nowhere, and then teleporting himself into the seat. He started to swing. “Fluttershy, have you ever wondered how certain ponies and creatures got to be a certain way? Like, say… how did Chrysalis get to be this cruel and greedy? Or why is Tirek so angry all the time? Or even how could Rainbow Dash do whatever it was she did?”
 
“That’s why I’m asking you.” She deadpanned. 
 
“Well, the best way to do it is to try to imagine all of them how they got there, to begin with. Because every irritating, frustrating, brutish fault they and so many others have had a long, long history behind it. You see, they have become like this because something went wrong with them as they grew up, which most likely didn’t choose for themselves. If anything, I can name the sources of four traits that make both average creatures and villains alike to become as they are: Anger, Pride, Greed, and Hate.”
 
Suddenly, Discord and Fluttershy were on the carpet on the floor. Around them were toys that the mare was sure they weren’t there before. The little Discord quickly put together a city of blocks that piled high up to the ceiling and beyond. Next, he grabbed a scary looking, aggressive faced toy robot, he wound up the key. “With anger, it comes from a place of not only panic at the unexpected things that have gone wrong but also from anxiety as well.”
 
“Anxiety?” Fluttershy tilted her head, “What do you mean?”
 
“Have you ever been put in a situation where you want to do something, but you don’t know how?” He asked, setting the fully wound up toy down but didn’t let go of it. Fluttershy nodded. “Imagine that but put under so much pressure that you let your first impulse take over.” He let go of the toy robot, to which it proceeded to wave its arms about, shouting incoherently, and began to knock down the towers of blocks. Instinctively, Fluttershy moved herself and her cup out of the way. 
 
“So, because of this,” Discord explained while the toy continued on the rampage. “Much of the angry things they say when upset are rarely meant, even when they insisted on it. They call the nastiest of names, break stuff, hurt others because they are terrified. The angry are shouting because they are fighting for their very lives.”
 
“But what do you think- Eeep!” Fluttershy moved out of the way before a skyscraper of colorful blocks could hit her. “What do you think you should do?”
 
“Honestly?” the little Discord looked over to the toy who had climbed up one of the towers, fighting off paper airplanes. “You have to understand that they, like everyone else, have been told early on that to be angry isn’t very nice. That being angry ruins the image of how others see us as kind or sympathetic, like what good folks should be. Even after the angry are done, they feel guilty for their anger; especially towards the ones they care about. Or perhaps they get upset at themselves what they dismiss as a ‘small’ problem. So, there’s no need to tell the angry that their behavior is awful because that’s what they think about themselves already.”
 
Noticing that one of the paper planes was struck and had fallen, little Discord climbs up the tower to grab hold of the toy. “Instead, saying something along the lines of,” he turned to the toy that’s struggling in his grip, “You must be scared.” The robot toy stopped and looked up at him. “Saying something like that is the kindest and probably most effective response to someone who is angry. It gets to the heart of what’s going on inside their heads. What the angry need most, I think, is to appreciate their fragility, not scold them for their uproars.”
 
A quick whistle, and this time the whole room had piles of fluffy white pillows. All around them are stitched dolls of pegasi that are in groups. Discord glided down and, as Fluttershy noticed, the robot toy has been replaced by a small mechanical figurine of Rainbow Dash. “Then there’s pride.” Discord said as he winds the toy up. “It might look to the rest of the world that the prideful and arrogant boasts and be a huge stand-off because they’re so pleased with themselves, right?”
 
“I thought that was obvious.” Fluttershy pointed out. “It’s not just Rainbow Dash, but there’s Trixie, the Flim Flam brothers, Prince Blueblood, Chrysalis-”
 
“I’ll get to her later.” Discord interrupted, letting the toy Pegasus go, flying around doing tricks, “Despite what you think, all of that couldn’t be further from the truth. Underneath the honeyed word boasting about themselves, about their class, their intelligence, or their skill, is a response to feeling invisible.” While he was talking, they noticed that the mechanical Rainbow Dash had stopped to notice that the other toys aren’t looking at her. So desperately, the toy goes from one group to another to try to get their attention. “The prideful try as hard as they can to push the idea of their importance because they’re afraid that their very right to exist is being challenged. For some, they dread having others think ill of them unless they thrust their greatness on them. But for others, if that doesn’t work, they may go the other direction and try to be as despicable as possible so it would guarantee a reaction. Any sort of attention is better than having none at all and being convinced that we don’t have a right to exist.”
 
Fluttershy sipped her tea but this time, she had a thoughtful, if pitiful look as she watched the toy frantically trying to get someone to notice it. “When you put it like that, that must be a sad way of living.”
 
The little Discord nodded. “They don’t need to be told they’re horrible for being in your face; they secretly think of this already. What they want, or rather, need,” He picked up the toy and put it in Fluttershy’s free hoof. The mechanical Rainbow Dash looked up at her, “is to have encouragement to feel real pride in their merits. To remind them that something like their virtues, regardless of how small, is worth all the mastery of any given skill.”
 
After clapping his talon/claw, the room changed to where everywhere there are small, plastic Changelings before they have been reformed; a toy miniature of the Hive; and in her hoof, Fluttershy saw a Chrysalis doll that had a string and a ring behind its back. Curious, she put her cup down and pulled the string, but no matter how many times she pulled it, the doll said the same thing:
 
“Give me that, it’s mine!”
 
“You want to know the funny thing about greed that’s, well, kinda sad?” the young Discord asked Fluttershy. “That while others look on the greedy as advantaged because they’re taking more than their fair share; they’re doing it because they feel desperate.”
 
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “Why would someone like Chrysalis feel desperate?”
 
“Could you imagine what she might have gone through to be so neglected and vulnerable to the point where she had to take more? Could you picture her from long ago experiencing a famine where love was in such short supply? What kind of poverty and starvation did she have to experience to drill that fear that it would happen again into her head? Sure, I consider her as a glutton for love, but the same reasoning works here too. She’s emotionally starving. Unlike Thorax, she never discovered any new sources of kindness, or security, or a stable emotional connection. That fact that anyone is anywhere near as greedy as her is a sign of being emotionally undernourished.”
 
“Even if she did,” Fluttershy said, setting the toy on top of the plastic hive, “even if she had it rough in the past, why couldn’t she move on? I have known plenty of wild animals, even ponies who have experienced long periods of going without food or care and most of them turned out fine.”
 
“Maybe.” Discord nodded, activating a switch that sends the toy Chrysalis spinning and the hive lighting up. “But perhaps I could explain it with a story.” He pushed a button on the hive  which sent arcing bolts of lightning that struck three of the Changeling toys. Two of them were turned into monks, complete with orange robes while the third took on a mare complete with a beautiful miniature robe. Discord then took his cup of tea and poured it on the floor, forming a river. 
 
“Once upon a time,” he began while the three toys started to move, reenacting the story, “there were two monks. One was a master, the other his student. While they were making a pilgrimage, they happened upon a muddy river and a concerned mare trying to figure out how to cross it without ruining her clothes. The younger monk walked right past her as he crossed the river. But the master, he stopped, picked her up, and carried her across the river. He placed her down, bid her farewell, and the two monks carried on their journey.
 
“While the monks continued, the student was shocked because his master had broken one of their rules to never touch mares while they are monks. His master, seeing that his student had frustration on his face, asked what was wrong. The student snapped at him. ‘How could you carry that mare!’ he yelled. ‘You know as well as I that we’re not supposed to go anywhere near mares, it’s against our way of life!’
 
“The master, with a smile on his face replied, ‘I left the mare by the edge of the river a long way back. So why are you still carrying her?’ The master had indeed broken the rules, but he did so for good reason. Once that purpose was done, he placed the mare down and continued. If anything, the master didn’t give it any further thought. But the student, however, he never touched the mare, but he had brought up the actions of his master when it was in the past. In a way, the student had also broken a rule too because he was carrying the burden of what his master had done – when monks aren’t supposed to hold on attachments.” 
 
There was another bolt of lightning that struck the Changeling dolls and they transformed back into their unreformed selves. Discord continued, “Like Chrysalis, even though it happened in the past that, regardless if it happened to her or not, she carries that baggage, clinging onto that pain. She couldn’t let go because it was painful, that it hurt her so much, that the idea of letting it go would go against her expectation of a just world. That if she was pushed, it would seem crazy to not push back.”
 
“I don’t agree,” Fluttershy said, “but at the same time… it’s hard to disprove it right now.”
 
“And last but not least,” the little Discord stood proudly, a lion paw up in the air and snapped. Now the room has turned into a battlefield with armies of toy soldiers fighting in every direction. Even Fluttershy had to take flight as there were so many. “The origin of hate itself. This might come as a surprise to you, Fluttershy, but hate is really an intense form of envy. Sometimes, when one finds something that the other lacks such as that they’re able to be more successful than they are; or that they can rewrite comic book canon to their liking; or that they can be more liberated to be themselves; or have more followers. It doesn’t matter what, that as long as it’s anxiety to see someone having something that they lack, they respond with hate. Instead of letting their envy become their teacher, to show what is missing in their lives, they instead turn it on those who have what they lack and declare war.”
 
“But what about those that hate themselves?” Fluttershy asked.
 
“Good question!” Discord said cheerfully, tossing some more paper airplanes that carried loads of parachuting troopers. “In the case of self-hatred, it comes about from the envy of not being a better version of themselves. Because they stumble on so many flaws so easily, that sometimes they find being able to change for the better is hard. So hard, that they would become their own worst bully, critic, and a demon all rolled into one. Whenever they fall into an addiction they’re trying to get rid of, they blame themselves. Whenever they remember how much pain they caused others, they whisper to themselves that they’re not really sorry, even if they meant it. They are to a degree envious about having flaws that makes them seem disgusting.”
 
Fluttershy hummed in thought. “So, what exactly should I do when encountering someone who acts like a big meanie?”
 
With an unsnap, the toys are cleared away and young Discord was bathing in a large cup of tea. “There are two things: one is to have a little more of this,” he tossed over to Fluttershy a small, orange plastic bottle with a cap on top. She looked at what was on the label, it read: Pessimism – Take only a few each day. “If you want to live calmly, it’s best to have a little bit of this before you so much as walk out of your room each morning. By lowering all your high expectations to zero, it would help ease up how painful it is when they’re suddenly smashed. To be happy, happiness is equal to expectations over reality. But since not everyone can change reality like I can, the pessimist knows that it’s best to reduce expectations.”
 
Curious, Fluttershy opens up the bottle. “There’s nothing in here except a piece of paper.” She said taking it out. 
 
“That’s the medicine.” He told her, “read what it says.”
 
She unrolled the miniature scroll. “‘Life can and will go wrong. Chores are not or ever will be fully done. Small important items like keys will go missing. Small and large things will be damaged or destroyed.  There will be traffic. Everycreature is worried, anxious, sad, and scared most of the time. It’s normal to have regrets. It’s normal to be mocked by everyone. Anyone that you think is normal is those we haven’t gotten to know. It’s hard to be happy for longer than fifteen minutes. All your hopes will be ruined. Mediocrity is normal. No one is excepted from accidents or death. Fortune can change its mind about your well-being anytime it wants. Important things like family, your friends, home or your possessions will be destroyed somehow. You will be ignored, even if you cry for help. But that’s okay.’”
 
Blinking, she looked over to Discord who had expanded the teacup to fit a floating rubber goat to hold him up. “This is really dark.”
 
“Of course, it is,” he said, “it’s really helpful as it keeps our expectations in check. However… I’d be careful using it too much if I were you.”
 
“Why is that?”
 
“Because otherwise, you might become a modern Cynic, those who are so afraid of pain and so addicted to that stuff you’re holding, that they’re willing to do mental gymnastics to secure against discouragement that’s bound to happen. They overdose on that medicine to the point of disappointing themselves before the world could do it for them. Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever take that. Think of it…” He paused as a thought came to him. Suddenly the teacup was gone and he was wearing a little doctor’s white coat, complete with a toy Stephen scope. “Think of pessimism like taking aspirin. Only taking it when you feel something painful coming or is happening, that as long as you take the recommended dosage, you should be fine. It’s only when you overdo it that gets you into trouble. It’s best to have a balance between hoping for the best and preparing yourself mentally for the worst in a calm, mature way.”
 
“Okay,” Fluttershy nodded as she put the scroll back. “I suppose that makes sense. And the other thing?”
 
“Hm? Oh! Well then the other thing you’ll have to do when you encounter someone so mean, is to forgive them – which is one of the weirdest things in the world to do.”
 
“But being forgiving is considered a virtue.”
 
“Yes, only not everyone does it. And I get why, it’s pretty easy to hold onto a grudge and sulk because, well, we’re in the right! What those idiots have done is so foolish, so thoughtless and mean that forgiving them is beneath us. However, there are three revolutionary ideas to keep in mind. First, the next time you talk with Rainbow Dash, just remember that it isn’t just her in the here and now you’re talking to.”
 
“What does that mean.” 
 
Out from the coat pocket, the little Discord pulled out a nesting doll that had Rainbow Dash’s face on it. While he talks, he pops open the lid of each doll that got smaller and smaller. “You’re not just talking to Rainbow the adult mare you see before you. It’s also Rainbow the insecure adult, the anxiety-driven teenager, the confused Rainbow that just hit puberty, the child that is envious of others winning, and the infant that screams for her parents in the middle of the night. Being able to forgive her, is to do so to any of these that are layered in her head.”
 
“But I don’t think Rainbow would like it if I treat her as younger than she is.”
 
“And you don’t. It’s having the ability to see through the adult that you physically see to forgive the frightened, anxious, disappointed, furious, or awkward foal within. Just because she may look grown-up, doesn’t mean that her past has left entirely.”
 
Fluttershy’s eyes flashed in realization. “So that’s why you turned yourself into a foal. This is an object lesson, isn’t it?”
 
He nodded. “The second is to imagine how the Rainbow that offended you got there, to begin with. Since no one is entirely bad, it’s not what they say or does that you should focus on but where they’re in pain. If you can find where they’re being hurt, you go away from seeing them as a demon, but someone who doesn’t know how to cope. To forgive her is to understand the origin of cruelty.
 
“As for the third…” After discarding the doll and the coat, he went up to Fluttershy and took a hoof in his hands. “I’m going to say something harsh. I know you don’t get angry with me easily but… please don’t be angry.”
 
“Why?” Fluttershy asked, taking a moment to set her cup down. “What’s the matter?”
 
The young Discord took in a deep breath and looked up at her with puppy eyes that are heartwarming enough to make it melt. “Don’t take this the wrong way… There are some difficult things about you too.”
 
“But I already know that.”
 
He shook his head. “I’m not saying that you have something difficult about you in this or that. Not the stuff that destroys your faith in decency. No. As hard as this is, but some areas are so small and quiet that you go through them without noticing. In such, that nicely, you have been a coward. Gently, in your own way, have betrayed. Modestly, you forgot the advantages you had. Without thinking, you have added salt to the wound. All of this without you noticing.”
 
She frowned. “Discord, are you saying that I’m a bad pony?”
 
“N-No!” He cried, but just as quickly, he regained himself. “All I’m saying is that even I don’t need to know anything about you to know this as a certainty. Even I’m not exempt, and I’m almost perfect in a funny way. But the reason why you should be forgiving a little more is that – maybe not now, or over this or that, but over something one day – you would need to be forgiven too. It takes a good deal of imagination and courage to not only say ‘Sorry,’ but to have a strong soul to utter the most unnatural words in any language.”
 
“What’s that?”
 
Letting go of her hoof, he summons the Age Machine. Placing the plunger with wires on his head. “I forgive you.” He turned the crack and Fluttershy watched him age up from a child, to a teenager, a young adult, and back to the proper age, height, and goatee that she knew well. Pulling the plunger off his head, he looked around the room of toys and discarded costumes, then with a snap, he made it disappear. He sat back down on the couch. “So, does that answer your question?”
 
“I think so.” She nodded. “Although I admit it was a rather long explanation.”
 
“That’s the funny thing about Philosophy, I suppose,” he said, sipping his cup, “sometimes we love to hear the sound of our own voices.”