• Member Since 8th Aug, 2017
  • offline last seen Last Wednesday

Not Enough Coffee

"The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts." ~ Marcus Aurelius


Berry Punch has had a hard time living with herself, and honestly has no idea how long that has been a part of her life. Not even the bottom of a bottle has the answers she needs anymore.

It's just another night, and there was always the next day to look forward to.

Warning: This story contains heavy suicidal themes, and addiction.

Edited by Famouslastwords, and Ice Star.

Pre-Read by Waypoint.

Art by Swaetshirt.

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 15 )

Yoooooo. Always a good time.

Gut-wrenching and evocative stuff. I don’t think glad is the right word to use when you asked me to edit this, considering the subject matter. Still, there wasn’t any way I was going to say no to helping you out. 🖤

I dunno man, this story is clearly about somepony having a berry bad time.

I'm incredibly happy to have you along for the ride with me. 💜

Joke’s on you, I’m even happier to join you. Get dabbed on. 🖤

Good story as always man. I'm also glad to hear you're in a better place now too.

Damn bro, that was some heavy stuff. I could really see a lot of reflections of what I know of you in the writing. Very cathartic, and very real. I'm really glad you're getting the help you need.

And of course, if you ever need to talk about literally anything, my DMs are always open :)


And of course, if you ever need to talk about literally anything, my DMs are always open :)

I might just take you up on that, broski. Thanks for stopping by and reading my depression horses.

Nice to know my experience with suicidal thoughts wasn't as unusual as I thought. Glad you're getting help from an actual person. I'm broke, so I have to rely on my cat. She's great, but a psychologist she is most definitely not.
Be safe, and know that my giant floofball cat Luna supports your life choices.

Thanks! I hope things on your end go well as well. Also, tell Luna I said thanks as well, and give them pets.

Berry Punch has finally had enough of people making her out to be a total lush.

She's only a MODERATE drinker! Not a Critical Drinker! :trollestia:

That's all I have to say for today. GO AWAY NOW!

Good story man extremely grateful and accommodating that you will compose a lot more posts like this one.

My Balance Now

I have been meaning to comment on this for some time now since its release, and it hasn't been until yesterday when i decided to do it. Was the perfect time, after all.

“Stories about ponies are stories about people”, probably the most quoted status on fimfiction, applies perfectly here. This fic goes beyond the common surface characterization of  berry punch as an alcoholic to use it as a resource to tell a story about something many of us are familiar with, and even relate to, as unfortunate as it is. And it goes deeper than that.

Berry punch is pretty much trapped in a loop of making mistakes, regretting them, hoping the next day will be different, only to repeat the same mistakes. She has this false sense of hope and “optimism” that tomorrow will be better, but it never is. And when she has the chance to be free of the chains of routine, she doesn't allow herself to, as if she felt she didn't deserve it. Because deep down she knows her problems will follow her everywhere she goes. Because she is her own problem.

The closer she gets to the tavern, to give in to her vices, the more her real/former self, who she used to be, drifts away, until she stands in front of the door and is disgusted to see what she has become: an unrecognizable and twisted version of herself, yet the same pony at the same time. This is the moment she realizes, and slowly walks away from the establishment. I found the choice of words here interesting, as the pony on her reflection seems to approach closer every step back she takes. This I interpreted was her trying to escape the pony she has become, while the latter attempts to get her to give in. Always fascinating when authors use symbolism so closely with storytelling, and moreover when it is so subtle. 
Honestly the usage of metaphors here along with her state of drunkenness conveys this “trippy” sensation, like her perception of reality is completely distorted. There's a clear contrast on how she sees herself when drunk and later after the shower, being the latter a more realistic perception than the deformed imagery of the former.

At this point it has gotten so bad, that berry punch has dissociated herself, from her current self, following the trend of the symbolism above. She is quite literally her worst enemy. The contents of the suicide letter almost looks like a crime confession. The entire story builds up to this heart wrenching letter, letter that on a closer look follows almost the same structure as the chapter up to this point, beginning with her holding onto the false hope that drinking will help her forget the bad days, to her divorcing berry punch from herself, and finally to her daily struggles at sleeping, or even basic needs like eating or showering. This is her life now. There's no escape. Except one.

But then she breaks down in tears, letting it all out. Is almost a catharsis, after putting everything she had been feeling into words. She cannot bring herself to do it. In a way this has helped her, even if not in a healthy way to cope with her struggle. And as she puts it back on the counter, it ends in a seemingly truly hopeful note, thus coming full circle:

Theres always tomorrow

No alcohol this time to forget this happened, but rather her way of saying “not today”, and having the strength to live to see another day.

Is not a coincidence I decided to write this comment on this particular story a day after your birthday, delay that I apologize for. I know enough of the circumstances that led to the creation of this story to sincerely say this:

Is your 23rd birthday, and you are still here because you had the strength to go on. Congratulations. This is the best gift you could have given yourself on a day like this. And is truly a happy day as you are here to celebrate it with us.

Happy birthday Not enough coffee.

Please carry on.

Fucking A, broski. You pretty much nailed a lot of how I layered this story with this comment. Ngl, it's always a nervous feeling getting comments like this sometimes, since there is a lot to take in, but this was truly a wonderful gift and I am incredibly thankful for you time and words that went into composing this comment.

I am indeed twenty-three now and still kicking, which has to count for something I hope.

My pleasure, there was so much to unpack here. Was something i was meaning to do for some time now
Happy to hear you are indeed 23 now as i wasnt sure i got your age right lol
But in all seriousness
Thanks for writing this. Really.
And now go and enjoy being a 23 old fart :trollestia:


And now go and enjoy being a 23 old fart

Will do, Squirt!

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