You and No One Else
It was a sunny day in Ponyville.
Pinkie Pie was trotting gaily along, humming to herself. Sugarcube Corner rose in the distance as she passed lampposts and store fronts and mailboxes and limp pegasi lying in the road and flower bushes and picket fences and—
Pinkie Pie skidded to a stop, blinking. She icily backtrotted past the picket fences, the flower bushes, and then—
“Hiya, Dashie!” she chirped.
The limp mare continued lying on the road, belly-first. Her limbs didn't move; her tail didn't flick. Everything about the pegasus was drooped and dull and dismal—from her ears to her fetlocks and all the fuzz in between. Even the colors in Rainbow's mane looked a duller shade than normal. A gust of wind blew over the street as she sighed into grass blades and aphids.
Not one to stand apart for too long, Pinkie Pie flopped to her side and laid nose-to-nose with her best friend. Grinning.
“Whatcha doinnnnn'?” she melodically exhaled.
“Dying,” Rainbow Dash said.
Pinkie Pie blinked. “Oh.” Her eyes darted about. “Since when?”
“Since I was foaled,” Rainbow droned. “I came out of the womb screaming and it's been all downhill ever since.”
“Huh.” Pinkie Pie's ears twitched—one after the other. “Well...” A bright grin. “Do you need any help with that?”
“Life is short, confusing, and cruel,” Rainbow exhaled. “I've got all the help I need.”
Silence.
“Oki doki loki!” Pinkie Pie hopped back onto her hooves in a blink. “I'm gonna go get some sweets!” And she bolted towards Sugarcube Corner in a fuchsia blur.
Rainbow Dash sighed.
She didn't move.
Minutes passed.
A bird flew in, landed on a nearby lamppost, preened itself, chirped, then flew off.
A fly buzzed past Rainbow's ear. The fuzzy blue lobe didn't even bother twitching to shoo it away.
Then, at some point in the glacial passage of time...
...a lavender winged unicorn shuffled down the street. Twilight Sparkle had her smiling muzzle stuck deep in a levitating book, which might have explained the inevitable clockwork that was her comical tripping over Rainbow Dash.
“Gah!” Twilight flapped her wings, balancing herself before the princess could take an unsightly plunge into the ground. Panting for breath, she twirled about and frowned at the cause of her floundering. “Rainbow Dash?! What are you doing lying in the middle of the road?! You could hurt somepony by tripping them!”
“Yeah, I guess,” Rainbow muttered.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Don't you have better things to do?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Did... that... erm...” Twilight's wings coiled at her side as she tapped her fuzzy chin. “... … ...the Wonderbolts! Don't you have to train with them sometime this week?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Rainbow!” Twilight Sparkle stomped her hoof. “Quit it! What's wrong with you?”
“Meh.” Rainbow exhaled. “Nothing. I'm fine.”
“Well, you don't look fine.” Twilight trotted closer and her book levitated beside her. “Are you sick?”
“Nah.”
“Did... you fly into something and hurt your wing?”
“Nah.”
“Hurt your leg?”
“Nah.”
Twilight frowned. “Hurt your ego?”
“Meh.”
“Hah!” Twilight grinned, pointing. “That last one wasn't even an answer!”
“Did I promise you an answer?”
Twilight opened her muzzle... but had nothing to respond with. Clearing her throat with regal poise, the princess slipped her book inside her saddlebag, straightened the bangs of her mane, and trotted over to squat in front of the limp pegasus.
“Rainbow,” she began. “We're best friends. If there's something bothering you, I really want to help. But I can't help unless you tell me what's bothering you.”
“Nothing's bothering me.”
“Then why are you lying in the middle of the road like a dead raccoon?”
“I don't have anything else to do.”
“Why s-sure you do!” Twilight chuckled, gesturing in the air. “You could be doing flight stunts! Practicing for the Wonderbolts! Kicking clouds! Flying east!” She grinned, wagging her eyebrows. “You could even be playing practical jokes on the rest of us like you always used to.”
“Meh... none of that is very funny any more.”
Twilight fidgeted. “Uhm... you could... uhhhh...”
“Besides, what does it matter?”
Awkward silence.
“What... does what matter?” Twilight stammered.
“Exactly.”
The alicorn frowned. “Rainbow, you're not being very helpful.”
“What's to help?” Rainbow breathed in. “Someday we'll all be dead.” She breathed out. “And every joke we've ever laughed at will be just as dry and pointless as the jumbled words they were long before anyone ever thought them up.”
“So is that what this is all about?” Twilight remarked. “A fleeting case of existential ennui?”
Rainbow's eyes narrowed as she stared into nothingness. “Must be reallllly convenient to have a name for things you can't fix.”
“Huh?”
“'Existentialism.' 'Ennui.' 'Anxiety.' 'Taxes.'” Rainbow sighed. “They're just words, Twilight. So is 'Twilight.' Common names... proper names—none of them are worth any more than the other. Doesn't matter how hard we chisel them into granite. Either they fade away or we fade away. Both the life and the awareness of life. It's a race where nopony wins.”
Twilight was chuckling at this point. “I can't for the life of me actually believe that the Rainbow 'Danger' Dash would be grounded by a fear of death!”
“I'm not afraid of dying,” Rainbow droned. A slow exhale. “Just tired of it.”
“Oh.” Twilight's tail flicked. She looked left... then right. “Well... h-how about all of your accomplishments with the Wonderbolts?” She smiled. “Doesn't that bring you satisfaction?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And all of the victorious adventures we've been on as the Elements of Harmony! Doesn't that bring you pride?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“A sense of catharsis?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Rainbow!” Twilight gnashed her teeth, her eartips turning red. “Stop repeating yourself! Don't you realize how annoying that is?”
“Is it?” Rainbow's ears actually moved for once, although her body remained limp as a noodle. “I miss being annoyed.”
Twilight blinked.
But—right that very moment.
“Mrmmmfff!” Pinkie Pie slid back into frame, landing on her side next to Rainbow Dash. The fluffy mare was scarfing a mouthful of baked goodness. “Banana bread! Rommmff!” Another bite. Sugary crumbs christened the dull earth between them. “Scrumptious stuff! Always makes me super duper happy!” She smiled a dirty smile and offered a morsel to her catatonic friend. “You wanna bite?”
Rainbow took a very long time in responding. “Ever think about the last time you brush your teeth?”
“Huh?” Pinkie Pie blinked.
“Lots of ponies think about the last meal they'll ever eat... or the final pair of shoes they put on before some freakish event ends their lives.” Rainbow sighed. “I think about the last time I'll ever brush my teeth. Such a boring... stupid thing to do. And yet—we're all programmed by society to do it. As if it'll make us healthy... as if it'll extend our lives.” A gulp. “Kinda ironic—then—that long after we've rotted in the ground, it's our teeth that'll outlast the rest of us. Detective ponies even use them to identify murder victims. So maybe it makes some sense to polish them with such dedication in the end. Our teeth are all we'll ever have... long after the last thought of who we are and what we've done is vanished and forgotten.”
“Oh.” Pinkie Pie progressively curled up into a somber pink ball, clutching the banana bread to her tender tummy. “Well...”
“It's probably why so many ponies have nightmares about losing their teeth,” Rainbow Dash continued. “They fear the inevitable: being reduced to a blackness that's even less discernible than calcified dust.” She cleared her throat, blinking slowly into the grass. “I haven't dreamt about my teeth in a long time. I haven't dreamt about anything in a long time. But... I do sleep. I sleep a lot. And I've been gaining weight. I'm the heaviest I've ever been right now.”
“Oh...” Pinkie Pie sniffled, her mane turning straighter... glossier. “That's so... sad.”
“Not really,” Rainbow droned. “Just boring.”
“Rainbow...” Twilight frowned. “Stop bringing Pinkie down.”
“Twilight's right, Pinkie,” Rainbow breathed. “None of what I said matters.”
“Th-that's not what I meant!” Twilight exclaimed, stomping her hoof for the third time. “Rainbow, what's gotten into you?”
“Oxygen.” Rainbow droned. “It comes out carbon dioxide.”
“Heehee...” Pinkie managed a giggle. “Dashie made a nerd funny!”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Shouldn't that be Twi's line?”
“Doesn't matter,” Rainbow muttered. “We're all meat and bones in the end.”
“Grnnngh...” Twilight face-hoofed. “Rainbow...”
“Did I come at a bad time, darlings?” Rarity spontaneously shuffled up, gazing down at Pinkie and Rainbow. She sipped on a levitating cup of coffee and shifted the weight of her shopping bags. “I'm all for discussion of 'bones' and 'meat' but usually not out in the open.”
“Hiya, Rare-Rare.” Pinkie Pie bit into the banana bread. “Mrmmff... Dashie's dying.”
“Meh.”
“Dying?” Rarity nearly dropped her coffee cup. She took another sip and placed it into a strap of her saddlebag. “Dying of what?”
“Of living,” Rainbow muttered.
“Yeah, what she said,” Pinkie sighed.
“Don't pay attention to Rainbow,” Twilight Sparkle groaned, nearing her limit. “Of all her foalish cries for attention, this latest is the worst.”
“Twilight!” Rarity frowned. “How could you be so callous! We're friends! Cries of attention simply cannot be dismissed!” Rarity shuffled over and rested a hoof on Rainbow's shoulder. “When our loved ones are depressed, we must be there to support them and nurture them back into the light!”
“I'm not depressed,” Rainbow droned. “I'm just bored.”
“See?” Twilight gestured.
“Besides.” Rainbow gazed off, dead still. “There's no such thing as depression.”
Rarity squinted. Hard. “I beg your pardon?”
“I just realized something,” Pinkie mewled, gazing lethargically at her banana bread. “The loaf is half-eaten...”
“Rainbow, would you mind clarifying that last statement?” Twilight asked.
“Yes, what Twilight said,” Rarity added with a nod.
“It doesn't matter,” the pegasus droned.
“Then why did you say it?”
“Good point.”
“Rainbow, now you're just trolling us,” Twilight grumbled.
“What's to troll?” Rainbow didn't have the energy to shrug. Her shoulder lay like limp tissue under Rarity's gentle hoof. “'Depression' is just another convenient word we use to classify something that we can't control, so what's it matter to even try labeling it?”
“Oh, is that so?” Rarity bore a sarcastic grin. “And what of the poor unfortunate souls who harm themselves and even choose suicide over living with crippling depression?”
“Knives are real,” Rainbow droned. “Nooses and arsenic are real. 'Depression' is just a word.”
“Rainbow Dash...” Twilight clenched her teeth. “That is a cruel and unfair thing to say in light of the millions of struggling Equestrians clinically diagnosed with the illness on a yearly basis! Day in and day out they work to climb their way back into the light... to free themselves from... from...” Twilight shook her head and spat: “Sometimes it's even genetic! Ponies can come into this world with a neural predilection for chemical imbalances in the brain! Are you going to blame ponies for being born?”
“It isn't exactly a smart idea in hindsight.”
“Ugh...” Twilight face-hoofed. “Rainbow...”
“Rainbow, you're the most awesome specimen of Pegasopolitan breeding!” Rarity exclaimed. “You've mastered the Sonic Rainboom and accomplished countless feats of awe-inspiring wonder!” She smiled, caressing the pony's prismatic mane. “And on top of that, you're absolutely gorgeous in your own way, darling...”
“And I'm a Wonderbolt and countless ponies like to get my autograph and I have practically free tickets to waltz into the Royal Palace at Canterlot and chillax like the celebrity athlete that I am,” Rainbow droned. “So many cool and awesome things. You're right, guys.” She sighed. “I don't deserve to be depressed.”
“Nrnnghhh...” Twilight shook her head. “Rainbow, that wasn't what Rarity was trying to say at all.” She craned her neck. “And it's okay to admit to feeling depressed. In fact, it's a fantastic sign! That's the first step to take!” She smiled. “And then you can go on the road to recovery! Therapy... psychiatrist visits... even medication if it's needed—“
“Is there a cure?”
Twilight blinked. “Uhhhh...”
“Is there a cure?” Rainbow repeated, her voice dull and dispassionate.
“I... er...” Twilight lifted a hoof, avoiding Rainbow's gaze. “Well...”
“You know how many once-ripe bananas had to die for this bread to be scarfed by a big fat pink pig?” Pinkie Pie sniffled, her mane drooping limply around her scrunching muzzle. “A lot. That's h-how many!”
“Let me answer that, Twilight,” Rarity said. She faced Rainbow again. “Rainbow, with treatment, a pony can easily surpass the psychological hurdles of—”
“What is cancer?”
Rarity froze in mid-speech. “... … ...come again?”
Rainbow redirected the question elsewhere. “What is cancer, Twilight?”
“Oh! Uhm...” Twilight cleared her throat and spoke in a librarian's voice. “It's when the cells of one's bodily organs grow abnormally and encroach upon other organs—occasionally leading to malignancy and even death.”
“So it's basically when parts of the body have free reign to run to the finish line, no matter what the rest of the body tells them.”
“Uhhhhhh...” Twilight fidgeted left and right. “I'd say that's far from the scientific way of describing cancer. You're kinda generalizing—”
“A cell's job is to grow and regenerate, right?”
“Well, for the most part—”
“So isn't cancer basically a cell doing what a cell does best? What that body part was grown and programmed to do?”
“Hold on, Rainbow. It's a lot more complicated than—”
“Did something happen to ponies?” Rainbow droned. “Did some super evil dragonequus drop a bomb on the entire Equestrian populace that caused us all to mutate? Can we blame a magical freak accident for poisoning our bodies so that we all have a risk of developing cancer?”
“Well, no, Rainbow. Cancer is usually the body's reaction to common harmful chemicals, bad diets, diseases, unhealthy habits...”
“But can ponies who get involved with none of those things still get cancer?”
“Well... yes. Absolutely. While abnormal, cancer is... often a natural occurrence. But not all tumors lead to—”
“So it's natural, then.”
“Didn't I just say 'yes?'”
“And there's a cure for cancer?”
“Uh. No.” Twilight coughed. “There's treatment... ways of putting malignant tumors into remission, but there's no end-all, be-all cure.”
“And why should there be?” Rainbow muttered. “Cancer is just a product of life. Your body does what it does best—what it knows how to do—and still it ends up being a knife in the back. And isn't that the final irony? That the parts of ourselves that we're born with to sustain life will ultimately end it.” Rainbow's nostrils flared. “It's the same way I feel about depression. We're mortal ponies. We're finite things thrown into an infinite everything. We're programmed to want unlimited stuff... but we're smart enough to know that we can't have all of the stuff. And every little thing we do to amuse and distract ourselves have diminishing returns. Because we just know better. Death is bigger than all of us—even the thought of us. How can you be alive in this world and not be 'depressed?' It's just the natural state of existing.” Another sigh. “Ponies who are 'clinically depressed'... even those who are so bad off that they dwindle into obscurity and even kill themselves—their fault wasn't being depressed. They were just 'more alive' than the rest of us... and the rest of us are simply kidding ourselves until—by age or circumstance—we become just as alive as the ponies who eventually blended in with the shadows. And all we'll find there is ourselves.”
Twilight cocked her head to the side, squinting at the mare. “There are... some flaws in your analogy.”
“Nothing's perfect, Twilight,” Rainbow droned. “Even if I cared enough to be the world's smartest pony, I'd still be wrong.”
“Well, it's no crime to philosophize.”
“No. The only crime is getting up in the morning,” Rainbow said. “After sleep and its empty dreams have failed to do their job of erasing all of the futility and pointlessness from your mind. And you live out your humdrum day like a somber abridgment of the slow whimper into twilight that awaits us all.”
“That... sounds less like a crime and more like habit.”
“No.” Rainbow summoned the strength to shake her head. “The real crime is going back to sleep... and waking up the next day to do it all again.”
“So is that why you're lying here in the middle of the road?” Twilight asked. “Because after all of that psuedo-philosophy and ontological analysis, you feel guilty for the 'crime of living?'”
“Nah.” Rainbow exhaled. “I'm just bored.”
Twilight face-hoofed. Hard. “Celestia, give me strength...”
“I... I-I have so many unfinished dresses,” Rarity murmured. Her mascara was running a little. Sniffling, she stripped of her shopping bags and slowly collapsed to the road beside Rainbow and Pinkie. “I'm always coming up with fashion projects th-that are far too epic for me to ever accomplish.”
“Oh, jeez, Rarity...” Twilight clenched her teeth. “Not you too!”
“And what does it matter if I utilize an entire lifetime in engraving m-my name against the unfeeling tombstone that is the fashion industry?!” Rarity half-sobbed, curling up into a fuzzy white ball. “At some p-point, a meteor or gamma ray burst of cosmic happenstance will erase all that ponidom will ever accomplish in the totality of our civilized existence!”
“For crying out loud...”
“It's all so... v-very unfair...” Rarity hyperventilated, her eyes growing misty and mistier as her body grew limp and limper. “Death isn't an end! It's a return to form! We are merely the detritus of star dust, after all. We only burn faster!”
“Rarity...” Pinkie Pie whimpered. “The banana bread! Look!” She held her morsel out in her hooves. “It's nearly gone!”
“Let us leave it uneaten, Pinkie, darling!” Rarity cried. “Allow the next evolving species to feast on the crumbs... to savor the delicacies of our fossilized remains so that they too may be blind to the ontological anxiety that plagues us all!”
“Also...” Pinkie outright wailed. “The universe is expandiiiiiiing!”
“Blast it, girls! Knock it off!” Twilight growled. “You live in Ponyville! Ponyville is not expanding!”
“Yeah, I guess,” Rainbow droned.
“Rrrrrgh—Rainbowwwwwwwww.”
“Whew-wee!” An apple horse on apple horse legs drifted by, dragging an apple horse cart as she drawled in her apple horse voice. “What in the hay are y'all lyin' in the street for? Is this the new 'dabbin' fad that the young folks are all into?”
Pinkie lifted her fluffy head with a smile. “No, you're mixing it up with 'planking!'” Her mane instantly re-drooped as she sobbed to the heavens: “And we are all born alone and die alonnnnnne! Waaaaaaaaaaaah!” She fell back to the earth, curling up in a fit of hysterics beside Rarity.
“Allllllllllrighty then...” Applejack nervously tipped the brim of her hat back and slowly pulled the cart towards Sugarcube Corner. “...and this is why I never subscribe to Facebuck.”
Meanwhile, Twilight trotted over and knelt before Rainbow Dash. “Are you seriously going to just lie here in the road all day?”
“Meh.” Rainbow meh'd. “I guess.”
“Is there anything I can do to convince you to get up, go out there, and enjoy life?”
“I dunno.”
Twilight tongued the inside of her muzzle. She looked around. “Would it... make you feel better if I joined you?”
For the first time that entire afternoon, Rainbow didn't have a retort. Not even a sigh.
Before either of them could produce another thought...
“Oh! By the way, y'all?” Applejack looked back with a smile. “We produced an overabundance of cider this season! So I brought an extra keg with me! Gonna unload at Sugarcube Corner! First round's on the house!”
Rainbow Dash froze in the middle of being frozen. One ear moved. Then the next. Finally—with the grace of an exploding interrobang—her deadpan face lifted. “Did she say cider?”
“Why, yes, Rainbow,” Twilight droned. “I believe she did.”
“… … …” Rainbow shifted her leg muscles... her wing muscles... and then—“Hmmmm...”
Twilight slowly smiled. “Is that enough to pull the 'miserable mare of meh-dom' out of her funk cloud?”
“No.” Rainbow slowly... achingly stood up on all fours. “But it's not a bad thing either.”
“That's the spirit!” Applejack called from the entrance to Sugarcube Corner. “Now wipe yer hooves clean and come inside, y'all! I'll pour each of ya a tall glass!”
“Well!” Rarity stood up, wiped her mascara clean, and levitated her shopping bags beside her as she trotted briskly towards the cafe. “A nice passionate drink sounds quite lovely right about now!”
“Woohoo!” Pinkie Pie—fluffy again—hopped after her. “I just can't wait to drink the comments section! Er... I mean whole pint of cider!”
“Hahahaha!”
“Eeee-hee hee hee hee!”
As Rainbow Dash limped after them, Twilight trotted by her side.
“Y'know, Rainbow,” she said, leaning in. “It's okay to have fun once in a while... especially when your heart and soul feels against it.”
“You say that now...” Rainbow muttered. “But after all the cider is gone and I wake up from the reverie, I'll just be back to where I was again.”
“Mmmhmmm...” Twilight nodded. “...and sometime after that, you'll be happy again also.” She wagged her eyebrows. “Is that a crime too?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Twilight laughed.
Rainbow wasn't smiling; perhaps it would have ruined it.
Nevertheless, Twilight wrapped her wing around Rainbow and Rainbow returned the gesture as they both shuffled into Sugarcube Corner... and into the warm echo of friends.
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Just... well done!
I am your dentist
I enjoy the career that I picked!
I am your dentist
And I get off on the pain I inflict!
So alcohol is the solution?
Fluttershy isnt mentioned because shes always depressed already.
Aw, this was so nice. Kinda my thought process sometimes, but where's my cider? >~<
Also, I caught a typo:
Thank you for writing this... whatever it is, really.
Another story with a Radiohead song title?
OK
ComputerSkirtsI wish I had friends to trip over me.
This isn't even an exaggeration. First you hear about dabbing and planking and then the first time you see it you go "wait, that can't actually be it".
8348666
Alcohol is only part of the solution.
About 40% of it, actually. The rest is water, carbonyls, carboxylic acids, tannins, polyphenols, and terpenes.
Someone get DJ Capricorn in here. She's good at getting depressed mares back on their hooves.
I think a lot of us have hit a certain level of this feeling in our lives, some of us more often than others. It is quite possibly the most profound waste of time I can imagine, an awful trap of spiraling logic that paralyzes you and prevents you from enjoying anything.
I loved this. It sort of echoes my own thoughts when my depression rears its mind-numbing head. The issue though comes when you don't remember what it's like to be happy because the times that you are are so few and far in between.
I've been struggling with a steadily growing depression for almost 4 years now. Most everything is just dull; not bad or good, things very rarely make me have a reaction like that anymore. For example: I can no longer identify things I like and things I dont like; most things just are and blend into each other and as a result I am near unable to form opinions on things or make descisions aside from just saying 'I guess' to someone. After all it's just easier to half heartedly go with someone else's flow.
Wether from negative or from positive feelings, I cherish the time that I'm no longer mired in the malaise, but sometimes that just makes sinking back into it all the more sad. I distinctly remember the first day of this years galacon (the first convention I've ever been to), when I started feeling happy. I remembered thinking, surprised: ''huh, so this is what it felt like'', because I genuinely couldn't remember the last time I had felt that happy.
Anyway, I think I lost sight of where I was going with this; but in words that Twilight may say: "Yes, Rainbow. Alchohol is a solution."
...I'll see myself out.
Oh no. Why right now? Why did I drink?
“Why s-sure you do!” Twilight chuckled, gesturing in the air. “You could be doing flight stunts! Practicing for the Wonderbolts! Kicking clouds! Flying east!” She grinned, wagging her eyebrows. “You could even be playing practical jokes on the rest of us like you always used to.”
lol so many chapters left to read!!!
She's half way there. Of course, cosmically speaking, life is entirely meaningless. The further you zoom out, the less anything we do here matters. Curing cancer, making love, Donald Trump. If the solar system just went and disappeared one day the universe as a whole wouldn't notice. So in the grand scheme of things we don't matter and we serve no purpose other than our own.
And that is the crux, the fact that there is no ultimate paradigm governing what we have to be about we can make the choice ourselves. People struggle to find meaning for their existance and look to religion, other people, whatever. Few of them realize that meaning isn't something that can be taught, it's something that has to be chosen. Once you get there, things just fall into place.
What is this tone? I don't believe I've ever encountered it before. Skirts has found a place in between ridiculous self parody and straight faced dark sadness and wedged himself in DEEP.
Oxygen.. need
laughing to much..
Rainbow Dash here is the one pony who would appreciate Background Ponyness.
You are the only writer on this site whose stories I upvote and favorite before I even read. I just know by now it's gonna be a gem when it come to you.
Flying east takes soooo long!
Damnit, she could've just told me she didn't have one, instead of leading me on all this time!
...cough
I find it odd that when I first saw the title of this story, my mind instantly said "this is a shortskirtsandexplosions story." And lo and behold, it was. The word "detritus" also gave it away; should I be worried that the word "sapphiric" isn't also in there?
Now I'm treating you like a meme, so let's get serious and talk about the story. I find it coincidental that it came up at this time of my life, as (and this is personal) everyone around me is suffering from depression. I'm not (at least I think I'm not), so I think I have a more detached view of this story than others will have. It's also eerie how some of the things included here coincide with research that I've done recently into depression, to the point where I feel that you've hacked into my life. You haven't done that, have you?
Have you?
I haven't done a long review in a while, because I've considered myself too dumb to do so. If any part of this feels idiotic, then please chalk it up to my severe stupidity, and forgive me.
Firstly,
Should I be concerned that this viewpoint makes sense to me? How you can just look at the world and nothing interests you? That is a symptom of depression, and with how obstinate people are (and Rainbow Dash included), it all makes sense. For a story about depression (or is it even?), I appreciate how this is used to create tension among the characters. It's easy to attribute motionlessness and listlessness to depression; it's not as easy to attribute it to boredom, especially when nothing can rouse the person experiencing it. I feel that it's hard for people to understand that sometimes, you just want to be bored. Or maybe you don't want to be bored, but you need it. Or maybe you just need to be left alone to ruminate on death and eternity. I dunno, depression is a touchy subject and not one that I completely comprehend, but those are things that I've observed.
The mellowness of Rainbow Dash's dialogue was really tight (tightly constructed, that doesn't mean that it's dope, yo), and none of it felt flabby. The other characters' dialogue was nice as well, everything revolving around the main theme. Only three parts of it felt out of place, but I'm not going to criticize it here. I'm more trying to engage with the text, but I just wanted to state my experience with the story.
Anywho, I agree mostly with Twilight's and Rarity's point of view, that there's not enough time to get everything done and it'll eventually be forgotten, but one should have fun doing it regardless. I can see all of the other points of view as well, except for Applejack's, oddly enough. I've just witnessed too many people lose themselves in it for me to get behind it. But it helps people out sometimes, I suppose, so I can't really get up in arms over it. Also, I'm typing, and my arms are down for that, so I can't get them up for it.
How was it doing that? Why was it doing that? Did it do it of its own accord, to greet Pinkie Pie?
I know I'm exaggerating, shaddup.
It was an important detail that this was all taking place on a sunny day. Is it right to call that juxtaposition? Or is it just another fact of life, that it was a sunny day when Rainbow Dash decided to lie down in the middle of the road? Or is it to coincide with the Radiohead song? In any case, I feel like it was an important detail. I can also appreciate how minimalist the setting is; usually I'd say that a story needs more, but given how important the dialogue is, and how little everything around Rainbow Dash matters, the sparseness is appropriate. Especially when Sugarcube Corner is rising to do goodness-knows-what.
Does banana bread have any significance? I'm not asking for the story's sake; I just want to understand if the choice has any significance to you or someone else.
foundshit.com/images/working005.jpg
I hope you don't mind if I share a personal aside (and if you do, them please let me know): in my research on depression, I came across a theory from scientists that depression isn't actually a thing, but not from this logic. The theory stipulated that what we call "depression" is just sorrow—an actual emotion—that is curable by medication. The theory stated that thinking depression was real was harmful, not because it corrupts the mind into a self-fulfilling prophecy, but rather because it gives pharmaceutical companies unnecessary power over people's natural emotions and makes them closer to being a mindless puppet while also polluting the body. I did say earlier that this story seemed coincidental, and this is partly why.
It doesn't have much relevance to the story; I just wanted to express that I can understand that someone can think that depression isn't a thing.
What is odd about it is that this discussion comes into a story about a malingering sense of nihilism. Why would the questionable existence of depression factor into her mindset that nothing matters? This isn't to rebuke what you have, but rather to put forth my genuine curiosity. It would make sense for Rainbow Dash to brush off the feeling of depression, or accept it and continue being so without hope of consolation, but given that she feels cancer is something that exists and cannot be stopped, saying that depression isn't a thing because it can't be controlled or cured doesn't make sense to me (or, on another vein, that cancer is a thing that can't currently be cured, and so that wouldn't be something that exists... either? That sounded so much better in my mind).
Perhaps it's a cry for help? Perhaps she is afraid of cancer's incurability but knows it's a real thing, so depression being mainly a mental thing gives her a chance to rebuke it? So her friends could find some other way to help her through this? That may be a stretch, but I think it's worth looking through the possibilities.
On that note, I want to talk about two things together, if you don't mind.
I think these passage highlights the everlasting importance of friendship. Every one has the exact same day, and exists in the exact same uncaring plane of existence (theoretically). Time doesn't really care what you do and what you don't do. The universe considers you smaller than a neutrino, as something that can be ignored while it's busy birthing galaxies and the rest of the cosmos. Time existed before you were a thought, and will exist after you're forgotten. Your own body, environment, friends and circumstances can betray, harm and kill you at any time. Why should you care for anything? You're just a temporary speck, and whatever you set out to do in a day will only exist in that day, and you'll have to do something different the next day, and the day after, and the day after. It's always new, so it's almost like nothing you do that day matters.
Your friends, however, will remember you. They will remember the goodness and the accomplishments you do, and no matter how much time has passed, you can go back to them and be an almost timeless version of you. You are preserved with them, and they care about you and your state of being, in the past, present and future. There is something that cares about you in this universe, something that you can give goodness to and will actually remember that. That is why I consider friendship important, and I did gain this specific insight from this story.
So thank you.
I didn't catch any spelling or grammar errors, and I had to double-check to see if fuchsia was spelled correctly (it was, I had just forgotten how to spell it). So no worries there.
Oh, you younguns and your dabbing and planking and shuffling and twerking and donner and blitzen...
I am curious as to where Fluttershy was. Maybe she was the one who was making Sugarcube Corner rise; she's got a hell of a set of hooves on her.
For the last part, I will separate it into three different scenarios. Please read the one that applies to you the closest, and feel free to ignore the rest.
If you, shortskirtsandexplosions, wrote this story for someone who's suffering from depression
I like how the tension doesn't provide a clear winner in the debate. You were uncompromising with how dark the outlook on life can get, and I know that some people can relate to that. You can use up all of your mental powers to figure out if life has any meaning, and if you should even bother doing anything when eternity will erase all traces of it eventually. And then at the end, a pint or mug of cider is what ends up solving the particular issue; I may be against alcohol in general, but it makes it feel more human, more down-to-earth. It's a very nice thing you did for this person, if that is what happened.
And if that particular person reads this, then don't forget to have some fun, like the story suggests. It may feel like you're not able to do anything, and I am not a therapist or counselor, but in the end, fun is what we call enjoyment in experiencing life, right? Also, don't forget that there are people that care about you. I hope this helps, as it is not just my intention to goad you out of depression, but to help you get to a good place.
If you, shortskirtsandexplosions, are yourself depressed
The chapter title, "You and no one else," gives me this impression. I get the impression that you're the type of person that needs to look into the void of the extremes of life, including the meaning of it, for catharsis' sake. In that case, I hope it helped you out. And got you to grab a pint of cider. Or ale, or whiskey or vodka or ponies or whatever gives you that warm tingly sensation. And if it needs to be reiterated, there are people that care about you. From my research, I have a sneaking suspicion that saying "people care about you" may be detrimental to people with depression, and if you feel that way, then I apologize.
The internal debate you posted here gives me some insight into how you operate as a philosopher, and your willingness to poke fun at reality ("fly east!" "...the comments section...") were nice. The focus on the important things and the mundane, like brushing teeth, painted a vivid picture and immersed me into both the characters and your mind.
I just hope I'll be able to find the monorail back to the entrance...I won't encourage you to stop because you need help; I will wish for you,, the strength to keep on keeping on. That may be the only thing I can contribute.If you, shortskirtsandexplosions, are not suffering from depression
The odd dialogue choices I mentioned yonks ago become a touch more criminal in this instance. It's not that they're confusing; it's that they make the story feel less genuine. That, however, may just be me, for I'm very picky about word choices in stories of greater moral and social weight. The few meta instances may also be a tad trolly—but maybe that's a good thing, so you're attempting to lighten up your readers with some humor. It's almost like a gentle push up from someone's idol; perhaps some people need a chuckle with their depression-related literature. I am a bit of a prude, however (and a massive idiot to boot), so take that with a grain of salt.
All the same, your confrontation of the philosophy of depression in a setting like MLP:FiM feels true to the show and also like it can be applied to humanity in general. It's a genuinely good story. Nice job.
So that ends my review of this story. I thought, for the most part, that everything worked out for its benefit. The philosophy behind it is both humbling and intense, the characters are genuinely likable, all of them, and the sparseness of setting helps focus the story greatly. The writing is top-notch, and the language is, for the most part, significant. It's overall a good story.
Damn.
This was deep....
Another great little SS&E piece looking at depression and nihilism. Also 8349050 said basically anything I could want to on this story.
The universe was created to give humanity a place to live. Do you feel important yet?
Nitpick:
rein not reiGn
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/rein
http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/rein
Reins are used to steer a horse
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/reign
Monarchy, etc.
--------
"Hard" cider I hope ;)
Barenaked Ladies - Alcohol
Sounds so familiar in the family, and this is a family member that has their own house, car, gave up on dogs because they didnt live long enough, goes to new areas to buy stuff occasionally. And who regularly beleives Im taking the piss because compared to me, hes normal.
All I know is that a few years back I decided to have a go at running a thought experiment on total simulation, and I decided to do a pre analysis, and set up some mental engines and protections on the actual thought experiment itself.
Three days later when I returned to coherent thought, I discovered the mental equivalent of a sealed shut badly deformed neutronium blast door, with a single blinking indicator light, for saying the experiment within had been run.
On the far side of that door lies terminal chaos and madness.
Lets see how long it takes for someone to rediscover the wideband holographic atomic level assembler I was looking at in various research articles back at univresity in the late 1980s.
Then again, how long before someone demostrates yes, you can do logic processing with the wave version of quantum mechanics, by using a pressed CD with the right data on it. A billion gigapoint transform in the nanosecond it takes light to reflect off the surface, for less than a dollar.
Now run that as a neural net.
So much fun stuff possible.
So very, Intresting Times.
I have to apologise, apparently Ive lost my notes in which I beleive I demonstrated algorithmic approximations to behaviour that which humans would call mental, neurological disorders, in which the resource availablitiy distribution of a neural net by a watchdog neural net, doesnt match the resource requirement of the processing load demanded, giving whiteout, overrun, brownout, underrun, and so changes which probabilities are used to access information.
Difference in infomation is hallucination, which is a toxicology injestion response.
But, every time Im successful at something, I get ill. Apparently Ive been trained to have a reward aversion response. And then people decry me for asking if anyone else can do it instead of doing it myself if its so easy.
I just try and be here for companionship. No good for freindship as such cos Im broken. Thats why Ive been working for the last 30 years on computer designs, that aint broken. Cos I cant be repaired. But the design can.
Be a deep space scout.
Good verses Evil
Do your best to let the next guy know what killed you.
verses
Let the other sucker go first.
Well shit, you captured that perfectly. I can really relate to the thoughts and feelings of Rainbow, all of which I have experienced at one point or another throughout my life. Gives me some motivation to actually go out and do something good for myself rather than sitting around doing nothing but waiting for the end of the day. Thanks for both making me feel sad and lifting my spirits. Even when I'm being harsh and hard on myself and the world, I will always have people that care about me to keep me going.
...Skirts, you've been a real downer lately.
Damn, you good, skirts?
Nihilism at it's best!
Every candle only burns for so long, but every moment of light is worth burning for, whether short and brilliant or muted and long.
space is a waste~
You do it to yourself, just you.
And that's what really hurts.
Don't have anything else to add that isn't said already. Neat Radiohead song (regarding a narcissist, which really is a whole other thing I don't wanna get into), existential nihilism, a mention of arsenic (which is too nice of a word for something so dangerous. Ar~se~nic) and friendship, duh. Nothing wrong with a bit of friendship. Not a big fan of drinking your problems away though, but drinking with friends? Makes a whole lot of difference in the world sometimes.
Just that if you're writing this as an outlet, then I'd sure want you to give a little bit more. Might sound cold when I say this, but I feel as though the conundrum of emotions are still being held back to an extent. To put it in a nicer way, it should be fine to let a little of whoever's going through this situation — you, relative, friend of a friend — slip into the story. Doesn't detract from the fact that it's a great story, no question; just wanted to know who or what this story is standing for, if it is standing for anything at all.
No hard feelings, hopefully.
fuck eternity
8349494
If anything, Skirts has written a lot more cutesy silly fluff in recent years.
Anyone wondering where Fluttershy was, as if the mane six are some kind of toy set, can shove it. I'm giving this an upvote for no other reason than one M6 being neither included nor mentioned.
8350114
We must be reading different stories then, 'cause I've been reading this and Appledashery and Ofolrodi, and it's bummin' me out, dude.
I am impressed. Usually depression I encounter in various stories is the hopeless suicide kind. Rare is it that I have seen someone convey a more apathy focused version. If Dash had a little bit of occasional rage at the futility it would have been pretty close to a mirror of what I was like before I started taking medication to normalize my brains chemical output. My compliments.
So much fun.
What's surprising, is that this is a very accurate depiction of my own feelings right now. Lethargy and apathy.
A nice zinger to be sure
She actually has a point about cancer, our cells are literally programmed to die, a cancer cell is just one that refuses to die.
Funny though that cider is now the cure for their depression. Or at least a suppressant.
...I get it!
Because Skirts knew how fucked our brains would be after reading this!
I need it!
I want it!
I can't live without it!
EVERYTHING NOW
Truer words have never been spoken. The life you live is your own, not a contest or entertainment for others. If you need others to validate your life, or you need theirs to fill the emptiness in yours. You have way to much free time on your hands.
There she is. I was wondering if she was in there somewhere.
This story reinforces my opinion that the modern world, and most forms of mass media or social networks, work so hard to try and make a population of people that believe in nothing. That is to say, that a lot of people nowadays don't have strong convictions, or a solid moral foundation.
The Universe is such a huge thing, and we are so small in it, that if you don't have something greater the yourself to center on, then you can be washed away, or worn down into dust. That's why people in all ages have tried to be part of something larger. A Family, a tribe, a clan, a city, a nation or the human race. Everybody wants more then anything not to be alone.
I can't remember who said "Stand for something, or you'll fall for anything" But it is a good one.
Can we expect a 'Pop Is Dead' inspired story anytime soon?
I think that's the most important part of this story. Let's die together, Skirts.