Being a former super hero in prison has many benefits and burdens. On one hand, most of the inmates don’t like me, but they’re also smart enough to fear me, even if they believe I don’t have access to my powers.
On the other hand, I’m somewhat of a celebrity in here. Even a few of the guards are more than willing to “help” me with contraband like this journal, under the promise that they could read it when I was done. I’d sooner burn this book than ever let them see a single syllable. Though, even if they did find it, I doubt they'd be able to understand it. Even if this world has a few parallels to my world and several comics, not a single creature on this planet has ever heard of Spanish before.
Aside from the guards who usually provide me with contraband for one reason or another, several guards have also propositioned me or tried to seduce me, over a dozen reporters have tried to interview me, and I can’t begin to describe my hatred for the Stallionist group that tries to put me on a platform as a victim of oppression. I've told them why I'm evil, explained my reasoning to them, but those blithering fools actually think they understand me more than I do myself. Though, the most loathsome moment would have to be the infrequent visits from heroes attempting to convince me to change.
Why should I? I’m not in the wrong for protecting these pathetic creatures, I gave everything I had for a world that looked down on me and it still refused to acknowledge my efforts. These creatures aren’t human, they don’t understand a single thing about what it means to be human even if they somewhat resemble us. Just looking at them is enough to infuriate me, creatures pretending to be people when they’re not.
I’ve already described this world as a prison, but I don’t believe that’s fair. A prison on Earth is at least full of people. Terrible people, sure, but they’re still human. Everything here feels like a parody of home, something to mock me by reminding me of what I don’t have. I tried to build a life here, I tried to smile past the pain and pretend everything was fine, but this world isn’t my home. It can never be.
I’ve crossed lines that I never thought I would in the hopes that this could be home. I befriended these creatures, shared stories with them, slept with them, ate with them, did everything short of find love with them. I betrayed what it means to be a human, what it means to keep my humanity for the hope of being accepted. The odd thing is, I was accepted so easily because, to them, I looked like them. But I could never accept them, because they don’t look like me.
Poetic racism, isn’t it? Or perhaps it's just blatant intolerance and disgust. Either way, there are just too many differences for me to ignore. Even beyond their physical differences, their mentality is too alien to me. I have to wonder if other heroes felt this way? Did Superman ever feel this lonely, or Martian Manhunter, or the Silver Surfer, anyone who was stuck on a world that was completely alien. How did they do it? How did they devote their lives to protecting a species that wasn’t their own? If I had to save a human here, one of any race, age, or gender, I would do it without hesitation.
I know I may sound like a broken record, but it bears repeating because I’m trying to understand it. I can’t feel connected to these creatures, I’ve tried, the gods above this world know that I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. I can’t look at a pony or other creature the way I would a human. I’m willing to admit that there are nice ponies like Timber Spruce and Cheerilie, ponies who I was able to be friends with, but I can’t connect with them. I like them but there’s still this large gap that I can’t cross, something that keeps us from
I can’t understand them. Or, maybe I refuse to understand them?
I just can’t sympathize with these caricatures of parodies. I tried to be a hero by their standards, tried to become drunk on my egotistical distraction, but I couldn’t. Why does being a hero mean letting murderers live? Why does living with ponies mean I have to act like some castrated cat? Why can’t they see how wrong they are?
If a person walks to your house and tells you they’re going to murder your friend, you don’t act like a coward, you fight back and kill. It’s common sense to respond to violence with violence, it’s been that way since the dawn of time. But these ponies don’t understand, they think being good means allowing murderers to live, to let people suffer when all they need to do is kill one creature to save hundreds, if not thousands.
It reminds me of an idiotic hypothetical thought experiment from back home. I don’t remember the name of the moron who designed it or what it was called, but the premise has been glued to my mind for years. It’s an insane test to see if a person is good or evil by that idiot’s standards, and it feels like it fits this world to a tee.
The hypothetical goes as follows. It’s late at night, and you’re alone in your house. Then, you hear your best friend desperately banging at your door. They’re panicked, tears streaming down their face as they beg you for help. They tell you that a murderer is after them, and they need a place to hide from the psychotic killer. Of course, you would accept and let them inside to hide. Not ten minutes later, there’s another knock at the door. Answering it, you find the killer who asks you a simple question. “Is your friend inside the house.”
Any normal human would have answered the, “wrong” way, but most ponies here are so brainless that they’d probably answer the “right” way. Apparently, even doing so much as lying to this hypothetical mass murderer is wrong because, “Lying is evil,” or some other thoughtless nonsense. No, apparently, the correct answer is to answer truthfully and let the butcher enter your home.
It's insane to me! How could anyone actually believe that lying is evil but inaction is good, that letting your friend die is better than doing something as simple as saying "no"?
I’m sure that some ponies and other creatures here would agree with my views, yet another positive trait of my celebrity status. At least my followers understand what I'm trying to do for this world. Allowing these criminals to roam the streets every other week is not only stupid, it’s a guarantee for this world to end. It’s one thing when humans do it because humans have the capability to change. Clayface became a hero, Loki fought alongside his brother, even hulk was an arguable bad guy before he became a hero
But for these ponies, change is almost impossible. Not a single villain has tried to become good and not a single pony has backed down from their ideals. They try to change me without seeing how much they should change. Why should I change when I’m the one who’s right?
I would have had everything I wanted if they didn’t get in my way. I don’t care about the money, fame, anything that these ponies give me. All I wanted was a way back home, and they stole it from me! I wouldn’t have needed to do any of this is they just left me alone, but no, they were too stupid to let me be.
When I finally escape this metal prison, then I’ll show them all the right way. Even if I need to drag them all kicking and screaming into the future, I will remold this world into something better, something that truly represents the ideals of humanity.