Melancholy

This insipid holiday irritated Blueblood. Other ponies were at home, gathering around their tables, and giving thanks. And for what? They had nothing. Blueblood had wealth, but obviously they were poor. He had experience, but they had barely seen the world outside their own door. He had connections, they had nothing but each other. Nothing but fellow weak-minded fools clapping each other on the back. Nothing but complacency with their simple, uneventful lives. Nothing but each other. They could not be smiling. They could not be happy with what life had given them, the nothingness that they struggled so fiercely to hold on to.

But here they were, here in the streets of Canterlot, grinning as if they had everything. The audacity of it confounded him. How could they be grinning? He saw nothing but waves of smiles as he walked through the area. There was no reason for them to be smiling, no reason for their friendly faces, and no reason for the friendly greeting. They had nothing, nothing but their smiles. He had everything to smile about, but they had nothing. There was nothing in their lives to explain those permanent grins. Nothing in their lives to explain those friendly greeting. How could they be happy? They had nothing. How could they be happy with nothing, when he was unhappy despite having everything?

The children playing in the park? They had nothing, but they were clearly satisfied with it. They were even ecstatic about it. Their smiles were a blight on logic that burned Blueblood's eyes. The street vendors? They had nothing, and they were almost as satisfied as the children in the park were. Everywhere Blueblood looked there were smiles to offend him. How could everyone in this city be smiling when he was the only pony with anything? It infuriated him. He should be happy. They were happy with nothing.

He glanced through a large window, and saw more smiling faces. This perplexed him further. These particular ponies clearly did not even have those precious families that others droned on about. Why else would they be here? This was not a place for those who had loved ones, not today at least. Surely, if they did not have families to love, as weak as a reason as that may be, then they should not be smiling. Perhaps it was the strong drink, poured from simple glasses for the explicit purpose of addling their simple minds. Perhaps this magical liquid had some quality to it that created happiness. Perhaps if it could make them happy, then it might make him happy.

The bartender was the same as the others, with that inexplicable grin. What did he have to be happy about? His customers had their strong drink, but the bartender? He was sober as a priest. So, why could he have that smile, that same inexplicable grin on his face? He had nothing. Nothing but that blasphemous smile. That exact same grin as all the others in this town. Here he was, working, today of all days. Clearly he had nothing. Nopony in here besides Blueblood had anything. Nopony in here had his vast riches, or breadth of experience. They had nothing. It was wrong of them to smile like this. It was wrong of them to torment them with their grins, to remind him of his melancholy.

Blueblood accepted a strong drink into his hoof. Perhaps this would make him happy. Perhaps this would be the one thing that could make him appreciate everything that he had. By chance it might make life worth smiling over. But it did not. The cool liquid sliding down his parched throat did nothing for him. He still did not have a smile on his face, but here were all these other grinning ponies, drinking the exact same thing. They could smile, they could laugh, and they could enjoy themselves. The drink clearly did not contribute to their happiness. The drink was clearly nothing, so Blueblood knew that it was the exact same situation here as anywhere else in this jovial city. Ponies smiled over having nothing.

"What's done got you so glum?" Another smiling face cut through his thoughts. A simple pony, who smiled despite his buck teeth, lifted his glass in greeting. That grin irritated Blueblood more than all the others he had seen today. Those ponies had nothing, but this pony clearly had less than that.

"How can you be happy?" Blueblood asked. This dreadful subversion of logic made no sense to him. How could that hillbilly smile? Judging from his teeth, he clearly had no money worth speaking of. He was here, so he clearly had no family who cared for him. But somehow, the smile was real, and he was genuinely happy.. Just like all the other ponies here, with their inexplicable smiles. Clearly the hillbilly had nothing. "How can you smile?"

"Beats me," Hayseed Turnip Truck turned around, content to ignore the one depressed face in the building. He knew better than to attempt to mingle with the snobbish upper class. He knew better than to mingle with those who had determined to be unhappy. He noticed that his friends' glasses were nearly empty, and, with that permanent smile still on his face, performed a simple act of servitude. He understood that it would never be appropriate to allow a friend to go without a drink. He understood that possessions were to be shared. He took a glass pitcher, and poured another round for his friends.

The implications of this simple action escaped Blueblood. Perhaps he was jaded, perhaps his wide breadth of experience did not allow for the analysis of what truly amounted to the finer things in life. He still wondered why he could not be happy, and why the ponies in here could despite having nothing. They had nothing, he had everything. They were happy, and he was not. He had everything, but he had no one.

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