Repeating Cycles

by Magenta Gleam


One-shot

What is life but an unending repeat of the same cycle of actions?

Day by day you repeat yourself over and over, sometimes deviating from your path but always returning. That is my life, that is your life, that is life for all beings. No matter what we all fall back on patterns of behaviour, our actions of thoughts spinning endlessly on a circle of cause and effect. Whether something changes in our lives or everything remains the same we end up in circles.

Perhaps that is why I have always preferred circled, they mind me of the inevitability of the universe to repeat. But let's step back from that tangent.

My name is Chris, and my life is bland, lifeless and ultimately meaningless.

Everyday I get up and I while away my time until I can sleep again, never living, never enjoying, my surroundings may be full of colour but my life is not. My walls surround me, keeping me safe but also imprisoning me. My neighbours come around and bring me into conversation, bringing some part of the outside world in but still they are my guards.

Not that I couldn’t go out there and see them, do whatever I want but the fact remains that this is how it all feels to be. A world of colour and I am the greys.

I can look at now and see a happy town, vibrant in colour just like it inhabitants. An aspect I don’t share with any of them, I can’t. I am not one of them. Looking out my window again is just an exersice in futility because I know that I do not belong here. Even the barely visibile reflection of my face in the glass is a stark reminder that I cannot fit in, not in this place.

It was bad enough back on Earth, I could look at the others of my kind and even though we looked much the same I was still different. Not outside, though that could be said too, but inside there was always something different. I couldn’t walk up to others and connect to them, I couldn’t just go out and make friends, I was an outsider within my own people.

So what does that make me now?

A man standing at his window staring out at a world that is not his own, bright colours too pure for one such a me to join. The twin crowns of this nation have given me somewhere to exist but I cannot call myself living. That would require me to become a part of this world, sully it with my lack of colour.

So I repeat my cycles, I stare out my windows and watch the world I cannot join, I eat the food to keep my body going and I sleep to maintain my fragile sanity.

Everyday one of them comes, this is becoming a cycle now too. A brightly coloured creature knocks on my door and asks if they may come in.

I let them, what else can I do but let the cycles continue? If they break maybe I could get some peace but what if they create something worse? These are questions I would rather not have answered so I maintain the cycles. The circular patterns of action and reaction that keep my unlife at the same pace.

They ask me how I am and I telll them good, for what else should I? It is only polite to ensure the good nature of those around me or else I will leak my grey nature into those that come by. Infect them with the monotony and depression that is me.

Everyday they ask me to come out, join them in some social overture but I cannot, leaving would only place them at further risk. As always I will politely deline, ensuring for another day that I will not drag down the inhabitants of this colourful world with that which controls me.

As always my daily companion will leave, as always reminding me that another will be by the next day, cycles, patterns, all repeating. Neverending circles of behaviour.

Will they ever change?

I love them and yet I hate them.

I fear what I would be without them, I fear would would happen if they were to cahnge to far from the norm and I fear what will happen if they stay the same.

All I have ever wished for was to be like everybody else, to smile and laugh. To have friends, go to parties, meet a beautiful woman and start a family. But I could never have that, not back on Earth and most certainly not here. That was not how I was created and my destiny is not one to have connections with others, it never has been. My life has always been destined to be one of darkness, shadows within myself ensuring monotony and a world full of shades of grey. Even in a world of vibrant colours it still finds me.

Returning to cycles I will do what I must.

I find myself at a different window, this may seem like a break from the pattern but that coudn’t be further from the truth. From on window to another I could change but the views would remain very much the same. Even from one side of the house to another would make little difference. I would still alone and staring out the windows at a world that is not my own.

There are those here that I am sure would allow me to break my cycles, to reach out into this world and would be happy to have me join alongside them in their lives, become one with their merriment. But I cannot allow myself such. This world is too important, too beautiful to lay my mark upon it. Doing so would change their world, depression like mine does not belong in such a happy, perfect world.

So I continue, I eat, I sleep and I watch.

I protect this world from the darkness within me.

My sworn duty as Chris, the only Human in Equestria.