How was readjusting to civilian life after your retirement? How long did it take for it to feel normal? What did you do to occupy yourself?
Honestly, it was easier than I thought it would be. I've come to the realization that a lot of things in life are like that. I had it worked up in my mind that I would feel empty if I wasn't performing my special talent at all times, but after a few days, I found that not a whole lot had changed. I was still inspiring ponies; just in a different way. I was inspiring them by leaving behind this awesome legacy that ponies will remember for generations.
And as I've said earlier, I've been spending my time reading books and volunteering at the local museum. Oh, and playing with my grandson Easyglider, of course. In fact, I'm spending my time right now writing up these memoirs. So you can't really say I haven't found something productive to do after my retirement.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon or asked the grinning bobcat why he grins? Did you ever let the eagle tell you where it's been?
No, no, and no. I don't know what a blue corn moon is, eagles don't typically speak to me (even if they could, I doubt I'd be able to understand them), and I don't give a damn about why bobcats grin.
Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?
The devil? What do you mean by the devil? That's usually a word ponies use to describe someone that's malevolent and beyond redemption. For example, I consider Lord Tirek to be a devil, as do most ponies. I've never danced with him in the pale moonlight, though. Nor any other devils I could think of.
I swear, your questions keep getting stranger and stranger, Mr. Book. It's getting hard for me to keep up.
What if your world was completely fictional, and everything both you and everyone around you thought and did were the results of some author's imagination? How would you respond to that?
Case in point.
Again, I'm not a philosophical pony. I don't really consider these things like the unicorn scholars of Canterlot do. However, there is one simple truth that prevents your scenario from becoming a reality. And that is Haycartes's famous maxim: "Cogito ergo sum." That is translated to: "I think, therefore I am." As such, you'd be hard-pressed to convince me or anypony else that we're all in some fantasy world dreamt up by an outside force beyond our understanding. Even you have to admit that's pretty silly, Mr. Book.
...
Huh. I felt a tingle in the back of my brain just now. Meh, probably nothing.