Encore

God Praiser #1 · Apr 2nd, 2020 · 2 · 5 ·

Start from the beginning

Hi, my name is Mitchell Welling
I'm nineteen years old, I am a musician
Would you like to hear a song?

Hi, my name is none of your concern
Just listen and judge me for what you think I'm worth, And you said
“I like the way your fingers play the chords, I like the way you make me feel at home."
And I'd play for you some songs I wrote
Most were about being alone
And how sad I got, my troubled thoughts, and giving up
Before I knew what troubled was
I never used to read, I never had the time
I'd be too busy writing about my own life
And everything we saw that day and how you made me feel
To assure myself that everything was real

It's cold
Lately, I've been feeling tired, Of everyone I know, And I'm positive that's it obvious, That every time I'm out, I want to go home, And every time I'm home, I feel so alone. I can't expect to sit and wait around to die, For the rest of my life, 'Cause that isn't me, I'm feeling like I am stuck in between, stuck in between; You see, I have two thoughts
Before touching someone's hands
Are they soft?
I hope not
Not too soft
Because four years ago I fell into a hole
So as soon as they touch
I wonder if they’re strong enough
To help pull me to the top
And are they cold?
I hope so
Because mine are so cold
That anytime someone touches them
They ask me if something’s wrong
I know that most people have walls but
I just don’t think mine are the same
Sometimes when I look up, I see stars, That cut through the sky and fade quickly into nothingness,
And I pray that you aren't as fleeting
'Cause when we're lying in roads, I get the same feeling
That gravity will just turn off and I'll fall endlessly
Into something much larger than I am, And I wonder if that's what it feels like to die and
If I'll ever understand God in my lifespan
'Cause I wanna see God
I want to know what God feels like

I'm singing 'la, la, la', in empty rooms that carry sounds like hollow caves

'La, la, la', just to prove you're not the only one that can occupy a borrowed space

'La, la, la', for every ship that was set to sail, but got washed away

I'm singing 'la, la, la', in desperate hopes that when it bounces back, I hear the octave change

I'd dream about a time where everything was fine
Where every single passing day didn't feel like a waste of time
I saw so many things today, but didn't feel alive
I've died, I've died, I've died
Because you wrote
“Don't forget"
on your arm
When you were drunk
And I got mad at the fact
That you had to remind yourself at all
I got mad when I shouldn't have
It's just that I got so scared
That you had already forgot

But now, I'm looking for a time machine
Or anyone who can justify why I've been gone
Or anyone to lie to me
They could say that they understand the things I've done
But I can't wait until I see your face
And my brain thinks that it's looking at a stranger
I can't wait until I see your face
And my mind thinks that it's looking at a stranger
I can't wait until I see your face
And my brain thinks that it's looking at a stranger
I can't wait until I see your face
And my brain feels nothing
I'll feel nothing
I can't wait until I see your face
And my brain thinks that it's looking at a stranger
I can't wait until I see your face
And I'll feel nothing
Nothing

You said, "Take the violin that you hang on your wall,

Stick it under your bed before it crumbles and falls,

Just don't open your eyes before counting to ten"

It's my own body, I did what I wanted
Ever since God made me bleed." He is a pedophile, you are the coffin
And you're the reason that I can't breathe

I'll go to sleep at a decent time when I find something worth waking up for
I'll go to sleep at a decent time when I find something worth waking up for

And my heart goes bum bum bum bum bum

Bum bum bum bum bum

Bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum

And I said, "No,

It's not that

at all

It's that bottle of lies

for a troubled

heart

It's standing on the

edge

of a mountain

top

Screaming

anything

he wants

like

"Look at me, look at me, look at me, look at me

Look at me, look at me, look at me, look at me

Because I exist, I exist, I exist, I exist, I exist, I exist"

I wake up in the hallway
I'm looking for sunlight
With rays that will cure me
of the pain that keeps my lungs tight
Ignoring
the voices
and feelings
that tell me
To get out
of this
house

I can't make them stop

I'm just like my mom

You're playing a game entitled
"Hey, they're gonna like me when I'm sick!"
Just don't lie in the bed you made yourself
And expect me to tuck you in

'Cause I won't

And you said, "No,

these demons

will fall

You're so precious

to us

all"

And I said,

"I

I can't do this

alone

I

still need you

to hold

So

don't let go, don't let go, don't let go

Don't let go, don't let go, don't let go

Because I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid

I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid"

So actually let's close the door

And I actually will turn the key

And we'll actually start moving on

Because actually

You want to be with someone else
Someone with stronger hands
To find the balance of being held
Without the burden of holding back
And I just want to be myself
Around anyone
So no I don't hate you at all

We're all just looking for something to look forward to

The little single moment that stops the earth from turning

A little piece of something that makes this all feel worth it

It goes on and on and on

I look for it in everyone

I look for you in everyone

And I can't believe it's true, there are people like you
With the same hearts and the same marks
On our bodies

Did everything feel beautiful when you let go

Of the idea of being anything at all?

If this fire goes out, I will keep you warm the best I can

I'll throw everything I have into the flames

Just to make it last

Did you escape from the feelings that you wanted to replace
With anything you thought could fill the space?

I hope you found the quietness you want
'Cause nothing good comes from being gone

So keep your eyes on anything
As long as it makes you happy
Do you feel like a big girl?
Do you feel like a big girl now?
Now that you're out in the big world
And I still can't leave the house

'Cause the starting line is atop a mountain
That I can't climb with these broken arms
I liked you
More than anything I wanted to be like you
With the strength inside to make it to the top

'Cause nothing good comes from being gone

I'm willing to admit it's all my fault

I will trade all of my pride for what I've lost

I don't wanna lose this battle with my thoughts

Nothing good comes from being gone

— Flatsound

Losing the love of a friend is like a death that has no funeral. Entire galaxies have dissolved over the eons and even they are worthless things. No living thing should face a reality like that, to be an island with no sea—only the perpetual blackness of apathy, encompassing. Ponies aren't born to be alone. It's just not in our blood. We attract to one another. We are cohesive: like water. The void of the universe exists only because we are here in the center to point in all directions away from ourselves and label that which is missing, that which is more cold and frightening than a winter's night, that which hungers for us because it can never understand—as we understand—what it means to be warm, to be happy, to be together.

He looked up at her, but it was a different stallion somehow, or so she noticed him for the first time—as so many of the villagers had noticed her for the first time, only to forget. But this time, there would be no forgetting, and she realized it was because she was the means of that memory, a power that she always had, but was only then echoing across the cave of her punishing situation. Perhaps it was the drooping of his ears, or the soft shape of his lips, or the glossing over of his sapphire eyes that conveyed the meaning in his words to her. Whatever the case, a part of the mad pony that she thought had disappeared with her sanity suddenly bore the brunt of his message, like a little foal being woken up by a soft melody tickling the inside of her ears, and embracing the golden dawn with a chorus as old as time:

Because you are so special, so precious, and this world would be a lot less worth enjoying if you chose to leave it.

It was a moment, that moment, that speck of frost hovering above me, that golden ray of light locked within the grip of several leafless branches. Everything was now, my thoughts, my breath, my will to cry and my will not to cry. I chose both, and tears came out anyway, and they felt like something I faintly remembered: a little foal grasping her xylophone on the morning of another Hearth's Warming several blinks before then. And my tears fell because I realized that the memory was artificial, a shadow of something long gone, as all memories of all things are temporary and weathered, turning stale with time like bread, losing their flavor and tricking ponies into thinking that they can relive that which is dull and dead, when in fact we should all be grasping what I grasped, the moment, the one real piece of time that we only have once and will forever mourn once it's passed.

I chose not to mourn. I chose not to regret. I cried instead with joy, a joy that had no words, a joy that only comes to a pony who's realized she's slept through a pitiful dream all her life, and can now finally awake to her own righteousness. And I was righteous. I was so very righteous. With numb forelimbs, I fumbled with my hoodie until I peeled the damn thing off and exposed myself to that righteousness. I flung the stone-gray article off the hilltop. It landed somewhere beyond view, buried in snow, buried in oblivion. Aria slept in her grave, but I was prepared to dance upon mine. I spread my limbs and reveled in the cold that so long had been a curse to me. Exultation required no memory, no pretense, no craving for hope beyond the shadows of one's sight. But it did take courage, for a life lived in the absence of recollection is the bravest life of all; it's the mark of a pony who knows that she has never even bothered with living until that very moment found her.

I knew who I was, not what I once was, nor what I would ever be. What I knew, what I felt, and what I had—that moment—was something that the Matriarch's Nocturne could never take away, no matter how omnipotent or powerful. That moment was mine, and it would forever be the substance of my soul. Everything afterward would simply be a shadow, and I was more than willing to trot into endless night. Darkness itself was just a reminder of what I could never lose.

— Background Pony, shortskirtsandexplosions

Oh, I try to make everyone happy
But what about
What about me?
Is it too much to ask
Is it too much of a chore?
For someone to stick around unlike everyone before
Everyone before

Abbey Glover — Please Don’t Go

Even if people abandon and forget something, that doesn’t mean it will stop existing. The world is full of people who behave like that. In the past and in the present.

— Berserk

Jake The Army Guy

Jake The Army Guy #2 · Apr 4th, 2020 · 6 · ·

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10160748

derpicdn.net/img/2016/1/14/1066075/medium.jpeg

Imaginedom

Imaginedom #3 · Apr 5th, 2020 · · 2 ·

Reply

I know that feeling bro

Trick Question

Trick Question #4 · Jan 11th, 2021 · 3 · 3 ·

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10160748
10164111
Christ, what a shitpost.

God Praiser

God Praiser #5 · Jan 12th, 2021 · · 4 ·

Reply

10623634

ALSO NO SWEARING ON MY P A G E

23 KM To Nerdiness

23 KM To Nerdiness #6 · Apr 1st, 2021 · 2 · 2 ·

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soloquotes.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Motivational-Quotes-Stay-Amazing.jpg

God Praiser

God Praiser #7 · Apr 13th, 2021 · 2 · 3 ·

Reply

10750321
Thank you, my friend. God bless you

23 KM To Nerdiness

23 KM To Nerdiness #8 · Apr 13th, 2021 · 2 · 2 ·

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10767709

One Winged Sin

One Winged Sin #9 · Apr 28th, 2021 · 2 · 1 ·

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At first I didn’t think I would enjoy this. Speaking of a different SSaE story, ‘How To Disappear Completely’, there is a chapter in which the protagonist goes full first person soliloquy, and it is extremely preaching. Almost like the author really wanted that chapter to be the thesis of the whole work. It kinda sucked and almost jaded my experience of the full piece.
A great element to ‘Background Pony’ was the character shifts, understanding the protagonist as she related to other characters, then occasionally going into the heavy poetic chapters as she works toward the impossible objective.
This story is based on a solo heavy chapter. Please don’t misunderstand, the labor that looks to have gone into those dense, poetic paragraphs is impressive. The madness feels real, and there’s this tone of an unreliable narrator going on that’s kinda cool. Who is speaking throughout this story largely depends on the readers interpretation of the original text. Is it the protagonist? The antagonist? The author? Such mania, as I read this story on my phone, in bed, in night mode, at 4am, is intense and by the end I can say was even enjoyable.
However. As I scroll, I’m also watching the story completion cursor and the page length bar, and that’s when I noticed the discrepancy. The story will end about half way down the loaded page. Which brings the reader to comments section.
That point I made at the top of this post? Well, there is a second piece of work that sits farther down. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably already noticed. It’s more work of the author, but what’s sad, frustrating? is that it’s absolutely not necessary. The point of an encore is to give an audience a cathartic close to the piece of work that was experienced. The story is, as listed, a sequel to ‘Background Pony’. Now let that be. Even if the author is trying to make a meta point about the previous work, adding more diminishes the value of the work. We the readers just completed the dense piece of manic poetry. The continent long post just to reach this message box kinda jades me to the experience of reading the story. Which is a bummer because over on SSaE, ‘Background Pony’ has made some subtle reminders of it’s existence, and a supplement piece looked cool.
Thank you for your work.

God Praiser