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// Entry 1 
// Story: World War Fandom 
// by SolongStarbird 
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	It appears that my being a fanfictionist allows for the recording of a mental journal.... in case my mental ramblings end up being interesting.... I doubt that I can ever learn all of the quirks of this new world, or get used to wings and hooved feet. I like the white hair and mint green eyes though. It makes me feel epic!
I digress. My name is- something within me says that my name died with the old world. This world, some tell me it is fused with the internet, yes? How they know is a mystery to me. Perhaps they are just reading the signs better than I am. Well then, everypony- wow... it comes almost automatically now, more than before. Bronyspeak is natural now... Everypony has begun to use their internet username as identity, so that makes me... Solong... SolongStarbird. Yes, that is it.
I only now begin to understand where the hell I am... somewhere in Georgia. It appears that everypony has awoken in a strange place like me. We all have the same message buzzing in our heads: The New Order will not be hindered by ties to home. Explore and establish elsewhere.
The New Order, huh? So that is what it is being called, but by whom? Who started this?
Oh, whatever. So, um... a recap... The sky shattered.... and I woke up in this.. Oakland Cemetery, of Waycross, Georgia. Where is that? In Georgia, I mean... I basically wandered around for the day, looking for other people. There have been a few, and together we kinda figured that the world has been merged with the internet, that and the urge in the back of our heads hinted at it. I don't like it, the voice, none of us do. Who put it there? It does seem to help prevent cluelessness in this strange new world, though, so we all might as well listen to it.
I can tell that the others are uncomfortable with my presence, or is it the other way around? I have been a brony for awhile, but now I can't hide it. At least I had been relatively open about it in the past. I can only imagine that there are other herd members hiding in the dark, uncomfortable that their secret is being forcibly worn on the sleeve, so to speak.
Night has fallen, and I finally remember to check my watch. October 17, 2017. Good. At least time hasn't changed. It is still fall, and I am still 18, thankfully.
Our small group has found a place to stay in a hotel (abandoned, of course). As I close my eyes on a first day in a new world, that buzz comes back, and says: Each day will be more interesting than the last.

-End of Entry 1-