//------------------------------//
// Journal 1: On isolation 
// Story: Waking Up 
// by DarkSeqvus 
//------------------------------//


Journal 1:
On isolation




Day 1, evening

So, since I'm running out of daylight, and apparently I was too dumb to look for a lamp or something, I guess I will have to save important details for tomorrow. But to summarize:

1.	Woke up in strange, very empty town.
2.	Town is (normally) inhabited by ponies(?) Why? Because magic, why not.
3.	Town is sealed off by giant pink dome.

Definitely an exciting day.

I wonder if this might be how a castaway feels on a deserted island. Or maybe how an inmate feels in solitary confinement. Unlike the former, I won't have to scrounge for food and shelter, but no number of makeshift rafts will get my me out of here; unlike the latter, I have full run of the place, but I have to fend for myself.

Yippee. Freaking. Skippy.

Either way, I'm stuck here, and completely on my own. I don't really mind, at least not yet; I've always been pretty good at keeping myself entertained, and my habit of thinking in conversations will be handy in staving off the MIND-NUMBING BOREDOM. For a while, anyway. When I normally do it, there are still people around to talk to, so it's balanced out. But I don't have that here... 
Which brings me to this journal. I am not a fan of journals at all. But without this, I'm liable to forget how to use "I" and "me" to refer to myself, and end up just using "we" and "us", and who needs that? (Would it be more correct to say "ourselves" or "ourself" in that case? How does royalty do it, anyway? ...Who even cares?)

Anyhow, I'm most liekly likely going to be spending a great deal of time exploring this place, so I won't be sitting on my ass, staring at the backs of my hands. So, with luck, the INSANITY of isolation won't hit me for quite some time. I guess I'm going to be trying to learn all I can about these ponies(?) and this town.

So far I don't think much of them, but that's more than likely the "having-to-write-with-a-freaking-quill" talking. Seriously, this thing is killing my fingers here. At least I was lucky enough to find a bottle of ink in one of the drwers drawers before it got too dark to look. And should I be blotting the ink or something, too? How does one even blot, anyway?? I bet tomorrow morning I'll find my hand covered in ink...

How the devil do ponies write with these things, anyway? And while we're on that, how do they type with boxing gloves on? And how do they pick stuff up if they're not wearing any Marzi
ok, that's enough of that.

Seriously, I just want a flipping ballpoint pen! Is it too much to ask?!


...There's a old story about the early days of the Space Race. They say the U.S. astronauts quickly discovered that their pens would not work in space. They go on to say that NASA then spent millions (possibly billions?) of dollars and a crap-ton of man-hours developing a solution, and in the end they created a pen with a pressurized ink cartridge, or something like that, that would work in zero gravity.

The Soviets used a goddamn pencil.

Note to self: Tomorrow, go find a goddamn pencil.



—NZ






Oh God I'm gonna be stuck here fo
nope, not doing this.