Chapters Next
Close
Metaphorically Speaking1,109 words
Let's Not Forget About Analogies!317 words
Metonymy or Synecdoche, Does It Really Matter?711 words

Metaphorically Speaking

Twilight awoke, a droplet of milk being expelled from the enema bag of unconscious slumbers into the anal sphincter of the living world. She yawned and stretched her forelegs more vigorously than a politician would the truth. She opened her eyes--bright orbs of knowledge intake that they were--and welcomed the chariots of light that sought entrance to their portals. She smiled like a happy dog you've just given a treat to: this day was going to be perfect!

She rolled out of bed like a Wonderbolt mid-maneuver, landing solidly with her hooves on the ground. Trotting over to the window, she swung open wide the panes and the frames which held them, preparing to burst out in song, the fat lady in the metaphorical Canterlot Gardens Opera House. But fantasy crashed down into reality like Kuno crashed into Warden's garden, and Spike's half-awake voice of reason reached the would-be petty-criminal just in time: Twilight, no singing loudly before seven! I looked it up once--it's the law!"

Twilight grumbled like an empty stomach, briefly considering yelling an epithet of vulgarity concerning the law while knocking over chocolate milk.. Instead, she, a vessel of righteous fury mightier than that of a metrosexual river dragon with a botched mustache, resolved to channel her burning passion against this injustice into something more productive, namely getting some tea.

Her urge to sing bottled up like the intestines of a pony on a low-fiber diet, Twilight trotted down the stairs humming quietly to herself. She figured she--the paragon of proactiveness--would just have to make some tea to simultaniously and paradoxically both calm her nerves and wake her mind and body, much like loud music employed by musicians such as DJ-P0N3 not only excites its listeners into a frenzy, but then works that frenzy into an almost calm trance-like state. But to her horror, the more she searched her cupboards for tea, the more she came up empty, and she felt she was an arctic explorer desperately seeking a northwest passage above Equestria, only to find it nonexistent.

While the topic of northern topography and geography fascinated her to no end, at the moment she was more concerned with the protestations of her body at not having the caffeinated nectar. Finding no teabags in her kitchen, and having no trees bearing suitable leaves for brewing nearby, Twilight readied herself for the arctic expedition that faced her now. She would have to brave the elements, and this early in the morning, there was no element that terrified her more than the element of laughter.

Make no mistake, Twilight loves Pinkie Pie, has almost always loved her since they first met, and will almost always love her until they someday part ways, when Pinkie heads off to the great party in the sky. This is a genuine familiar love, not the love a snake has for a mouse or the love the author has for puns which make one groan like Twilight's stomach was at the moment. That being said, Twilight preferred not to deal with Pinkie's antics until at least her third cup of tea, as if Pinkie were a caustic but fun-loving acid and Twilight's tea a base, with the third cup being the one to finally neutralize the pH, with pH here standing for "Pinkie's Hyperness". Alas, Sugar Cube Corner was by far the closest place that sold tea, and to be honest, if Sugar Cube Corner was Princess Celestia, most of the other breakfast joints in Ponyville were Princess Cadances, that is to say, simply not as impressive, and a bit late to the party. Yes, for this amazing ambrosia, there was only one joint that would do, and it looked like a gingerbread house suffering from gigantism.

Her destination decided like a court case, Twilight walked out the door of the library. She fumbled desperately for her key in her saddle bag, like the author scrounging through his homemade trail mix searching desperately for those last few tiny pieces of dried pineapple (This actually happens frequently. I need to buy more dried fruit.). Then she remembered she was a psychokinetic alicorn princess, lower-tier godlike in her powers, and just locked the damn door from the inside with her magic.

She wandered over to the sweets shop in a daze, wandering there like a sailor wanders home from a lost war. It being early morning, added to the fact that she never got enough sleep, added to the fact that she hadn't gotten her tea yet, meant that her heart, mind, soul, and body all felt like they had been run over by a riding lawn mower, then stitched back together, then marinated in lemon juice and fed to parasprites. But she would have none of this, and told herself to chin up and not to bet on sinking ships, as if she were a rainbow-maned pegasus giving advice in a FiMFlamFilosophy production. Inasmuch, soon she bounced along the path with a hop in her step, a narcoleptic butterfly skating the ground, only for the cruel mistress gravity to takes its course once more, thus tracing a parabolic arc of sorts. Thusly propelled like a kangaroo, Twilight hopped along the roadway, taking in the sights and sounds of the morning as she did so.

As she locomoted from point A to point B, Twilight found herself lost in thought, an explorer trapped in and at the mercy of her own brilliant mind. She wondered aloud whether she, being an alicorn, would outlive her friends, or whether she would simply outlive them because she possessed superior nutritive and medical knowledge, thus being the most gifted from an evolutionary perspective, much like a shark hatchling eating the eggs of its siblings and potential rivals until it is the only newborn pup left, except without all the cannibalism. Twilight found this notion to be depressing, a black hole gobbling up joy in the sea of happiness, and vowed to write angsty fanfiction about it to help herself cope with the existential stink of the whole thing. For her own personal health (she did plan on living the longest after all, and stress, like cyanide, can be highly toxic.), she quickly chose to focus on happier things, like soon having her tea, which hopefully wasn't almond flavored, as that would be highly ironic.

Travelling as such, Twilight soon found herself in front of the Sugar Cube Corner, the time having passed by like a library book due date you totally forgot about. Steeling herself for the inevitable whirlwind of insanity, she opened the door...

Author's Note:

To Be Continued...

1,110 views

Chapters Next