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// Madness 
// Story: Sometime Around Midnight 
// by flecdorbee 
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  In my time as a guest in Equestria, I came to only one logical conclusion about the place. As a factual mind in an utterly boring and, frankly, lazy body, I was searching for a lot of those; theses that proved more fact than myth after their birth in thought. After the bullet that ended my tragically mundane life on Earth, in that realm of sanity and order, passed from my cranium, I thought I felt the sleeping pills begin to work, though that could have very well been a side-effect of the bullet. There was no real way to tell, and that was fine. Radiohead played their acoustic laments to my life, and everything faded. The last blurred electrical signals my eyes traded with my brain were of the blinking red light from my friends. The anonymous group were, hopefully, huddled as close as they could be to their computer screens, eager to see me deliver. What kind of actor would I be if I couldn't perform? That's all that mattered in that place, The acting. "Professionals" in Hollywood were being paid millions for something that every functional human being in the fucking solar system was doing on a daily basis. It was infuriating to the point of madness. 

Madness can be described as "Living in a world only you can understand." In Equestria, I came to one conclusion based on that quote, which may or may not have been said before I thought it. I met with political activists, poets, artists, businessponies, children, bakers, seamstresses, general laborers, even land-locked deities. The outcome was the same, wherever I went.

Every single sentient being in that twisted house of glass was undeniably, incurably, insane.