When Fog Settles

by Strawberry Pegasus

First published

There are a lot of things that Storm doesn't know. There are little things she isn't sure of, like the capital of Maretonia. There are also big things that most ponies [i]should[/i] know, like her own opinion. Or her mental state in general

There are a lot of things that Storm doesn't know. There are little things she isn't sure of, like the capital of Maretonia. There are also big things that most ponies should know, like her own opinion. Or her mental state in general, for that matter.

A Day in the Life of a Madmare

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My name is Storm. I'm a white pegasus and my mane matches my eyes. That's really all I can tell you about myself, other than the obvious fact that I'm a filthy liar. Don't worry, I'm telling you the truth right now. At least, I think I am. You see, unlike most dishonest ponies, I try my best to tell the truth to others. I can't stand outwardly lying. The one I lie to is myself. Or maybe I'm lying to you as well. I don't know. Like I said, I lie.
Or maybe I don't lie to myself. Maybe I'm just crazy. I think I am crazy, to some extent. Or maybe I'm not. Maybe that's a lie, too. I can never tell. Is being unsure of your mental state a form of insanity? I think it must be. Or maybe it isn't.

It happened gradually, becoming like this. It was kind of like standing in a sunny field, then looking up and realizing that a thick fog has settled. Long story short, I guess that one day, I just looked in the mirror and wondered what I thought of myself. Then I realized that I didn't know. After that, I began to notice that I couldn't provide an explanation for anything I did. I realized that I didn't know the truth. I did the most terrible things and didn't know if I was sorry or not. Then, before I knew it, it was here and now, and I'd lost my mind. At least, I think I've lost my mind.

Anyway, I'm just waking up now. The sun's barely up, and I'm exhausted, but there's a thunderstorm scheduled. I'd probably be well-rested, but I stayed up late telling myself that I wasn't tired. I'm on a cloud, because I was outside when it finally dawned on me that I needed to sleep. Here comes Sassaflash. She's the other storm pony. She's also really cute. I think I might be into mares. But I'm probably not. It's probably just a lie. Oh well. I like this lie.

I'm moving the clouds now. I can see Twinkleshine from up here. I could recognize that obnoxiously perfect pink mane from a mile away. The arrogant jerk is at her telescope right now. Nopony else is up yet, and Sassaflash is on the other side of Ponyville. Nopony would see if I fired a lightning bolt at Twinkleshine right now. I can almost see her bloodied, boiling flesh in the eyes of my mind, bubbling and blackening as it melts away into something unrecognizable. I wonder if she'd have a magic surge out of panic. Or would she be killed instantly? I wonder if she would scream as she died. Don't worry, though. It's only a game. I'm not going to kill anypony. At least, I think it's a game. Whenever I see Twinkleshine, I imagine what it would be like to kill her. To be honest, it scares me a little bit sometimes. But don't worry, I'm a good pony. I'd never actually do it. At least, I don't think so. It's only a fantasy. Maybe it's not even a fantasy. Maybe I don't hate Twinkleshine at all. I am a liar, after all.

Now that I think about it, Twinkleshine's mane is really nice. I'd actually like to cover it in sugar paste and then nibble it clean. No, actually, I wouldn't. I hate Twinkleshine. And besides, curly manes don't turn me on. I think they do, but I know it's probably a lie. Just like me being into mares is a lie. I wish it was the truth, though. Mares are nice. Especially Sassaflash. Fluttershy isn't bad, either. She has a nice mane. Or maybe I think her mane is hideous. I can't tell. Maybe I'm lying about not being able to tell. Do I like Fluttershy or Sassaflash? I probably don't like either of them. Too bad. They're really pretty. Or maybe they're not.

I'm finally finished. Ponyville's sky is covered by a blanket of grey. One well-placed kick, and the thunder and rain has begun. I think I like it up here, above the storm clouds. I'm keeping my eyes closed so I can hear the sounds of the storm. The gentle pitter-patter of rain, the constant sound of thunder. It's all so relaxing.
I wonder what it would be like to be hit by lightning.
Where did that come from? My eyes are open now, and I'm staring down at the clouds. I can see the bright, dazzling flashes of my lightning through the damp grey mist. Don't worry. That first thought was a lie. I don't really want to be hit by lightning. Like murder, suicide has flashed through my thoughts now and then. I'd never really go through with either of them.
If I die, I won't kill Twinkleshine.
Don't panic, that was a lie, too. I don't want to kill Twinkleshine. But then again, I might. Maybe I just haven't snapped enough yet.
If I die, my parents won't find out that I like mares.
Don't worry. That's a lie. I don't like mares. Not romantically, anyway. Or do I? This is silly. All these things I'm telling myself are lies.
How can I know for sure?
Suddenly, with more clarity than I've had in months, I form the answer.
I can't.


Clarity
So far from here
Clarity
No longer seen
Clarity
Replaced with fear
Clarity
Some broken dream
Clarity
Nevermore dear
Clarity
Please hear my scream
Clarity