• Member Since 11th Mar, 2012
  • offline last seen 28 minutes ago


It's fanfiction all the way down.


Rarity discovers the meaning of happiness.

Stream-of-consciousness written in about an hour. Unedited.

A contest reward, written on the prompt: "Just write something comfy for yourself." I don't think the winner quite understood what he was getting into.

Chapters (1)
Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!
Comments ( 36 )

fucking hell

The place where new Rarity will send ponies who've done very bad things.

Hm, an interesting read.
Seems like there ought to be a bit more to say, but the words aren't coming to me at the moment.
Did enjoy it, though!


What is happiness? Happiness is seeing others do well for themselves, writing what they enjoy and emerging as stronger people in the end because of it.

So I'm happy right now, really. A lot of other things, too, but mostly happy. This is...wow. I feel like I'm going to sleep on this, reread it again in the morning, learn ten new things, sleep on it again, and learn another ten. It'll take me a long time before I'd feel confident enough to leave a proper analytical comment on this.

So sincerely. Thank you.

Living a life to the full is hard, and keeping on living it to the full is harder still. I can definitely empathsize with Rarity there. Then again, I guess there's nothing like setting everything on fire just to start a new life.

Strange but interesting

That was too deep for this early in the morning...

I find myself agreeing with Rarity in principle; however, I'm also thinking of a Piers Anthony story which is much the opposite of this.

Didn't expect the ending, although in hindsight it was obvious.

Well done!

Alondro #8 · 1 week ago · · 3 ·

The meaning of life = Alondro

(everyone crumples to the ground in despair, for clearly there is no hope)


Aren't you some kind of lich, though?

Wait. So Rarity still knows her friends and everything, but her past adventures have been wiped away?

Alondro #11 · 1 week ago · · 1 ·

9874150 That would assume I was once alive in the first place.

"How do you kill that which has no life?!" -South Park "Make Love Not Warcraft"

Also, 3 cheers for Matt and Trey on having the guts to give China the finger. Hollywood, the NBA, NFL, and others have proven that they, in contrast, are gutless virtue-signaling pricks who allow any and all protests against America but bow instantly when their communist masters demand it. F them in the A.

Wanderer D

I still like my idea better. But this is okay. :raritywink:

My point is that you don't equal life because you don't even equal alive. At least in the sense that Bleakbane doesn't equal alive, which is admittedly a sense I'm reluctant to use due to the existence of people like you and Bleakbane.

To me it seems like the phoenix spell was probably just a fire immunity spell and the idea would be that you 'died', and like Rarity you would simply leave and start brand new and have the opportunity to make those critical changes you couldn't before.

A revival spell that revives the mind rather than body.

Anyway, I really liked this! It's really nice to read something that can really make you think about the meaning behind it.


I'm guessing the amulet just made her immune to the fire. That's it. Everything else is social.

Ahh, ok. I've re-read the last section as well, and it's a bit clearer now. Thanks for the assist. :)


This is the intended interpretation.

:duck: Oh poo, , , All these years with my Spikey Wikey has made me fire proof.

Twenty years later, Ponyville finds itself annually engulfed in the counterculture festival that has come to be known as "Burning Mare."

(Thirty years later, the counterculture declares itself "so over" Burning Mare, citing the proliferation of magically-climate-controlled pavilions and members-only parties)


So she thinks now.
I wonder if she will find a place where the grass is greener. If she does, how can it stay so? How many times does she plan to do this?

A person is too small a thing to escape sadness, but too big a thing to not notice it. No matter where you go, you're missing out on much else. Losing things. And no matter what you achieve, it starts seeming not much, matters to you less, and something else is yearned for. So it means to live. To be otherwise would be to be finished and not need to go on.

As someone like Rarity goes on like this, hoping for happiness, won't she see that and start to tire of the cycle itself? She can shed her possessions, but she is accumulating memory.
Maybe it is good then that our minds are so limited and forgetful, so we don't have to remember all the things to be sad about. Happiness out of ignorance, for as long as that can last.

If we take this to a further conclusion, maybe life is best as a short dream. Perhaps it's a mercy to finish before the welcome is outstayed. As how some say death gives meaning to life. Then that matter can really cleanly play the game again.

Anyway, we can't imagine someone living forever. So why not end on what is surely a high note?

9874480 I am the Lawnmower Man... :pinkiecrazy:

Emil #22 · 1 week ago · · ·

“Fine.” Rarity drew in a breath. “My best years are behind me. Nothing I ever do shall be as grand, as liberating, or as joyful as what I have already done.”

And therein lies the flaw in Rarity's reasoning. If she wants to speak of it as a game, well, it's true that she may never achieve the same peak in rate stats. But counting stats? Those accrue until the end of her career.

On another level, I suspect it's also because this Rarity doesn't seem like she ever truly knew what she wanted. She'll be in the same situation, only worse, in another decade.

Twist ending: The spell did nothing. Arson is the real magic of friendship. :pinkiecrazy:

An artfully crafted story, well done.

I understand this stance and yet feel opposed to it on a fundamental level. Something about it feels logical but intrinisically wrong, and I can't put my finger on what or why. I suspect that in the end, it's more that I don't want it to be right.

Heck of a story. Well done.

Rarity is simply running away. She's now experiencing the delusions of 'changing', while still in effect remaining exactly the same inside. This momentary euphoria will fade. It always does. Happiness and sorrow are merely two sides of the psyche. You can only escape them forever by removing the source: your mind.

A tree thinks no thoughts, and is content to grow in the same spot on the mountainside it had sprouted in when the Pyramids were being built. And in doing so, its roots split the rocks and delve deep into the mountainside. Its offspring pour down the mountainside like a river cascading in slow motion. It has lasting effects upon the world without have any intentions whatsoever.

The arrogance and vanity of mortals is that they delude themselves into believing they matter at all, when nothing outside of this little speck of rock in space is aware they even exist. To the atheist POV, that is.

To the religious viewpoint, well, then we really matter even less. For from that viewpoint there are powers inherently beyond our comprehension.

So, as the wisest among us have discovered, seek not transient pleasures nor wallow in pointless despair... there is a middle way.

I would suggest people think of it this way: Rarity in this story is likely half my age.

And she's already lost herself to discontent.

We should find that pitiable, not admirable. All of her thoughts, ALL OF THEM, are based entirely around her own selfish designs for herself. SHE is not pleased, SHE doesn't find enjoyment with friends and family, SHE cares nothing for them... she is pure hedonism. And she will destroy herself in the end. I know this, for I've seen others just like her. The end swiftly, often by their own hand when they can find no lasting satisfaction in anything, for their only goal is their own pleasure.

Generosity indeed; this Rarity was never worthy to be a Bearer.

Success is just an ending. There must then be a new beginning. COUMMCGH

How can there be a middle way between unquantifiable extremes? When two qualitatively different ways have been ruled out, there can only be a third entirely unique way.

I'm always floored how profound you can be while barely even trying. Makes the rest of us look like monkeys throwing feces all over our keyboards.

9876828 If there are two ends, there is always a point between them.

Only if the difference between them is quantifiable. If there is no quantifiable difference between two qualitative states, then they are not extremes at all, merely definitively unique concepts.

9877673 Well, despair seems to lead to a definite quantifiable endpoint. So that's one.

You should reread the story and pay attention next time.

I would strenuously disagree with that assessment.

I'm just going to say that I find the comments section as interesting as the story itself.

It's naivety that we think we can simultaneously be dependable, important, and free. It's arrogance that we think we wouldn't slowly give up our freedom as the things we do become more important. It's hard to be satisfied with being small, and it's hard to find peace without freedom. It's almost like we're made to be broken.

Rarity goes on to live a second life. A thousand years later, Twilight has still lived only one, with all thousand years defined by her youth. It's hard to be content with such a small slice of life, and it gets lonely having to explore every new life on your own. Almost like we're made to be broken.

I think the only satisfying resolution is to grant friendship the same importance you would any other worthwhile pursuit.

That was a beautiful story.

Who am I?
I'll journey till I find a light
Yeah I'll get there one day
Cause I fly away
From the world I knew
Cause my heart it told me to
Now I'm on my own
Who knows what I could become?
In the air I see it
The truth, yeah I believe it
Doesn't matter what we've done
Only what we can become.
- Metajoker

Login or register to comment
Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!