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// Entry #25 January 22, 2190 
// Story: Starswirl's Journal 
// by AlesFlamas 
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My job as jester is humiliating in the extreme. Now, that's not to say that the king and his subjects treat me poorly; on the contrary, they treat me with the utmost respect. But as one who feels that he is capable of so much more, a life as a source of amusement by way of cheesy limericks and self-deprecation is not ideal. My rage has subsided, only to be replaced with a profound disappointment.

Now, my earlier complaint about cheesy limericks, was not meant to imply that I'm bad at coming up with them. They come to me quite easily, as do clever jokes and the like. But that's the problem: they come to me far too easily. I need my mind to be challenged. I need to enrich my mind with knowledge. And my current position will not allow for that.

On the bright side, my newly found exhaustion, brought upon by my near constant dancing about and generally making a fool of myself has made sleeping a breeze.