//------------------------------// // The Story You've Prepared Yourself To Hate // Story: A Message of A Terrible Affliction Know As Writer's Block // by KartalTheWriter //------------------------------// I’ve come to the quick conclusion that I’m running in circles. I’m sliding down hills coated with butter. I’m stuffing my pony self into empty fish bowls seeking depth and magnitude, which I lost somewhere when Screwball kicked me in the face. Mmm…butter tastes good… Insanity is the only thing I can call this affliction. Every time I reach for humor, I descend just a little further into philosophical nonsense. I’m seeking stupidity in a stupid place. And I can’t find it! What does that say about me? WHAT?!? My name is Sync. And I…have nothing important to say. “Is that really the way you want this to end?” A voice in my head asks menacingly. I refuse to let that voice win. I flip through documents on the computer like a madmare. Surely there’s something here that will work. Surely I’ve written something worthwhile. Surely… “Yes, this is perfect! I’ll post it on FiMFiction and get ALL THE VIEWS!” I exclaim in an internet appropriate way. “Pfft. I’ve seen better.” The voice, though it is disembodied, is definitely rolling its eyes at me. Don’t ask me how I know this. I glare at nopony in particular and flip through some more documents. “This, now THIS is GENIUS!” I say in my Royal Canterlot Voice. “Shut up, you’re not even an alicorn.” The voice drawls. “You shut up. You don’t even have a body.” “I don’t need a body for abuse like this.” “Why I oughta…” I search through some more documents, muttering unspeakable curses at the voice, which is presently laughing at my cowardice. “Alright, third times the charm. Third time’s the bucking charm!” I shout with Pinkamina-Level sanity, left eye twitching madly. “Oh, no need to swear, Syncy.” “Don’t you call me that; I’ve got a story and I’m not afraid to use it!” “Ooh! What’cha gonna do? READ to me? HA!” “Oh, I’ll do more than that. I’m going to PROOFREAD it! And then I’m going to PROOFREAD it again! And when I have eradicated the conspicuous errors, I will work on the INCONSPICUOUS ERRORS!” “You know, you really should work on your Royal Canterlot Voice. It’s not overpowering enough.” “You know you can shut up, right? I’m just trying to be helpful here ‘cause you don’t seem to know you can just close your mouth anytime you want to.” “I don’t have a mouth!” The voice then begins singing a rather silly song about how it didn’t have a mouth. I stop listening pretty quickly and turn back to my story. It’s beautiful, in my opinion. In fact, all my stories are beautiful in my opinion. After all, I wrote them myself under my own steam. Obviously, that makes it qualified to post on a fanfiction website and get appropriate attention. I’m using good grammar, I didn’t put humans in the story, I didn’t write about an unpopular shipping, and best of all, I didn’t take up too much of my reader’s precious time. Right? I look back at the computer. Wait. What if they don’t like my story? What if they write hate comments all over the comment section? What if they critique my work to within an inch of its life? WHAT IF NOPONY READS MY STORY??? Oh…I’ve got to think about this now. Okay, I’ll post it and just not care if anypony notices my story is there. That’s right. Very good. Then if somepony decided to read it, I’ll just nod and be moderately pleased, but not obsessively dependant on the reaction. Yes. Good. Fine. No. Okay okay okay. What if I post the story on multiple groups so as to have the greatest chance of someone seeing it? No, that never works. Even if the group advertises shameless self-promotion that just means everyone posts and nopony reads. WHAT THE HAY!!! I WANT YOU TO READ MY STORY PLEASE!!!! No. That sounds desperate. I’m not desperate. I am a successful unicorn. I won three trophies for fine arts. I got my work published in the school magazine. I’m a strong mare. A STRONG MARE! No. I just used anaphora. I’m just a geek behind a computer screen bashing on the internet scene. I never wanted to hurt nopony. I didn’t want to write like a poet. My rhymes never meant to show their ugly faces. I just wanted to be loved and tolerated. LOVED AND TOLERATED! Oh dear. What have I done here? I seem to be suffering from a severe case of writer’s block.