Beep... beep... beep...

Oh, for soothe, it’s this sound again. Sharp, agonizing... It drives me up the wall. Up this decorated with monotonous, tasteless, green wallpaper wall right in front of me. How am I supposed to do anything with this nerve-wrecking chirping. Although, no, this cacophony is too metallic for it being considered “chirping”. It’s more machinery-alive, than alive-alive.

Beep... beep... beep...

I have to admire the consistency of this sound. Or it’s maker. Or the sound and maker. Whatever is emitting this racket, it has a nasty habit of synchronizing with me. And not in a good way. Like... like... hmmm... Oh, I have an analogy! You know that beautiful attunement of two lovers? With their bodies entwined and their breaths shallow and quick? With their movements in unison, heartbeats going wild and yet remaining in transcendent harmony? Manes tangled, hooves pressed against pillows and quilts, them being so close that their coats nearly meld their natural colors into that one, indescribable by words, hue of passion, trust and desire? And that chaotic metronome of movements, accompanied by a symphony of incomprehensibly astounding sounds?

Beep... beep... beep...

Yes, this is nothing like that. It is more like an old crone living upstairs and making you know that every sound above a whisper's decibel level shall be met with furious retribution of broom banging without mercy or respite, just so that once in a while a senile, demented mind can have its twisted idea of fun. Only this time somepony has decided to take the broom from the old hag and grant her a birthday gift of an infernal device, probably using despair and pain as fuel. And, oh, is the withered harridan amazed by the capabilities of this hellish machine today!

Beep... beep... beep...

My point exactly. And the best part? The more I feel agitated over the noise, the quicker it seems to go, hence my synchronization theory. I mean, how utterly upsetting. It is the highest level of mockery. The one being more harsh and unbearable as you become more and more concerned about its source. It is like... oh, that is a thought new to me... maybe it is protecting itself like that? The higher quantity of the sound makes one stop trying to pursue the source of it, whatever, or whomever that might be, by just the sheer level of agitation it creates... Let’s make a test. Stay with me, I am going to provoke it, I just need to gather some emotion... wait up... “What, oh what is that dreadful sound?!”

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

You see? It got faster. Not louder really, just faster. Now, another test... “Oh, it is probably nothing...”

Beep... beep... beep...

A-ha! And there it calms down. Well, I didn’t learn anything new really. I have done those little trials of mine for... some time now. Hard to tell, really, I haven’t checked the clock in the same “some” time. I was too busy. With what? Thinking, mostly. I don’t really feel like doing anything else. I came up with a few ideas while I was here, waiting. The main conundrum still stands though, unchallenged. The sound. Its purpose. Its consistency. Its harshness. What, by Celestia’s name, is that sound?!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Oh, darn it, it knows I am onto it again. I have to say, either it has telepathic powers, or I am in general dealing with a thing of incredible power and abilities, "alicornic" nearly. It seems to know my thoughts on the matter of itself. And my emotions connected to them. But why? How did I come to receive this fallen guardian angel, to use a quite banal metaphor? Was it heritage or chance? Was it Fate or Luck, those cruel gods of old? Ah, doesn’t matter, what matters is that—

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Yes, that! Urgh, the frustration. The sound! Could somepony just stop it? Oh, you perhaps! Yes, you, white dressed pony-silhouette. Why are you looking at me? I am not doing anything! It is that thing... or person, let us not be rude. Although a person of such nerve as to torment me in this barbaric manner deserves some measurement of my rudeness, like reification par exemple. I have told you already, I am not the problem causer here! Leave that clipboard, there is nothing there! How do I know? Well, since I never saw what is on those sheets attached to it, I guess nothing must be there. Otherwise I would know about it. And yet everypony is checking those, adhering to those, like it is a holy scripture or something! Could you repeat what you have just said? Oh, I can’t figure anything out of this gibberish. Are you a being incapable of rational thought? Hello! Anybody home in that bulging cyst you call your head? Hey, come back here! Sigh. No use, must be brain-damaged. Like others here. Well, you win again, oh Persistent and Profound One.

Beep... beep... beep...

Hey, don’t rub it in! I would love to keep it a calm rivalry, even if one of the sides is slightly less civilized.

Beep... beep... beep...

True, I have to thank you for at least some of your signs of good will. You are surprisingly less present while I am asleep. I am actually capable of sleeping through your constant advances, you know that? Intriguing. I could swear you would want to strike the hardest when I am exhausted and in need of a little shut-eye. Did you decide to try to respect the hallowed rules of the Manehattan General Hospital after all? I just wish you would formulate your sentences a bit more clearly sometimes. Could you at least tell me what is your goal?

Beep... beep... beep...

You said that like million times already! Gosh! But, you don’t have to tell me anything, I will figure it out finally. I have a lot of time to think nowadays, so just you wait. A silent chuckle with a tone of upcoming victory would be superb right here and now.

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

Oh, yes, you know it is coming! And the day I figure you out, I swear—

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Oh, you damnable creature, you have provoked me. Touché, good sir. Or madam. Do you even have a definable sex? Or kind? Are you a unicorn, by any chance, like that renegade who decided to betray our society last week?

Beep... beep... beep...

Too much information, too much, really. Actually, have you any idea what happened to him after he had decided to go rogue in that quite spectacular fashion?

Beep... beep... beep...

As I have suspected. At any rate, you have to admit, I do give you a run for your bits. I am not going to be defeated so easily.

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

My satisfaction worries you so much? Well, you wouldn’t be the only one worried around here. Worry is oozing through every nook and cranny around. Are those ponies unable to do anything else? Sometimes I can hear them clearly, you know?

Beep... beep... beep...

Oh yes! All those words like: “prognosis”, “irreparable”, “celebrity eczema”.

Beep... beep... beep...

Really? You sure? “Cerebral edema”? Well, maybe you are right. My version didn’t really make much sense when they were talking about some other ponies here. Nor have I seen any celebrities trotting around. Maybe they aren’t allowed to apply for a place? I like to think we are a pretty elitist company here and—

Beep... beep... beep...

Ha, you are kidding. No way. Impossible. Improbable. Impassable. And some other “im” words. There is physically no chance of her being here.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Alright, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. As a resident? Visiting? Considering her music style, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a hidden dysfunction that surfaced in a grotesque fashion.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

What do you mean by that? She is constantly here, but not accepted to the club? How does that work? Preposterous!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Alright, fine, fine, believe what you want. I am just glad I cannot hear her dreadful “scratching”. I am glad I remember the time where vinyl meant real vinyl.

Beep... beep... beep...

My story? Nothing too astounding. Do you recall the incident at the last royal wedding in Canterlot? Let me just say that falling debris caused by a fly-by of ravenous horde of insectoid ponies is not too finicky when it comes to targets.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

What do you mean by "this was months ago"!? It feels like days have passed since I arrived here!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Well, maybe that is correct. I can't seem to recall too many events from the immediate past. I am just glad I decided on keeping my eyes opened a little bit. My vacation would be incredulously more boring with no vision.

Beep... beep... beep...

Why am I here? Hmmm... I am positive that Canterlot doesn't have a long-term head trauma ward in their clinic. Aside of that, I am myself amazed they are still keeping me here, after all of this time! Maybe I have supporters that demand I remain here, how would I know?

Beep... beep... beep...

Flattery about my skull being thick will only get you so far. I actually think that the sheer bony structure of my head caused the doctors to have issues with using healing treatments. And I most certainly did not forget about our little competition here, no matter how distracting you want to be. I am going to win it and soon, I have a sudden feeling.

Beep... beep... beep...

How do I know? No idea. I just know. It came to me not so long time ago. Like a promise of being once more on the beautiful meadows surrounding Trottingham.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hey, that hurts! Why would you do that? You don't like Trottinghamshire, or something? I honestly thought we were getting along, even with us having a disagreement!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hey, that is insulting, ambushing me like that! Oh, you drilling sensation, going straight for my heart! But you know what? I am not going to bother.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Nope, not at all. Afraid? Of what? You?! No. Why would I be? I have a feeling I am succeeding, finally. Maybe this room shall for once be soundless and calm.

Beep... beep... beep...

What would they say...? Hmmm. They will be a bit mad at my decision to abandon their company in this quite uncanny manner. But, I have a feeling they will understand. After all, I have been an honorary member of the... what did the doctor say exactly? "Troublesome cases". Sounds like quite a closed and exceptional group, don't you think? One that those Canterlotian snobs, posing as real nobles, would want to be a part of.

Beep... beep... beep...

Not this time, my dearest. I have endured your company for quite a long time, it is my turn to shine now. As much as I enjoyed our banters and you keeping me company with transcendent precision, I really need to finish this relationship. I need more room, you know? I need to be able to walk again, talk again. Thinking really got tiresome.

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

Oh, stop it, you are making my heart sink. Your high soprano and its pounding bass were playing together quite astoundingly, I have to admit. And you never missed your cue. But I grew tired of this suspension in unfeeling, unchanging space. It is time to move to a broader spectrum. Would you just be so kind to tell the nurse she was surprisingly useful? And I hope I wasn't too demanding on her behalf. What was her name again? Flower Heart? Merry Heart? Some type of heart, I am sure of it.

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

What awaits me? No idea. But that is exactly why it is so exciting. Imagine this – it feels like finishing a long chapter of a book. Who says there won’t be at least an epilogue following? Another chapter? Perhaps a whole new book? Who knows? Maybe the author will give me an autograph, what do you think? Whoever that might be. I doubt it's Princess Celestia though...

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

Oh, I will miss you, in a way. The way you miss a sworn enemy who turned out to be honorable in the end and stayed with you no matter the circumstances. But, alas, we have to part.

...beep... ...beep... ...beep...

Oh? Yes... of course you can... Do your best... until next time...

...beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...