They told me they would die. They were wrong.
They’re still alive.
Of course they are. I wouldn’t lie. They taught me not to.
The Princess said not to hold out hope.
Hold out? I created the hope.
Luna told me not to. But I did.
What do they know? They don’t know friendship like I do.
Storge. But not philo. Not like us. A bond so strong it supersedes death.
Nothing can stop them from being with me.

I go to Fluttershy’s every tuesday. Tea and biscuits.
She doesn’t say much. Never does. Never has.
Discord tells me to stop. Why? Nothing’s wrong.
I laugh. He looks concerned.
I smile. He’s frightened. Why? I’m just a friend.
He asks me to leave. Like he does every Tuesday. I trot out the door.

Spa time with Rarity. Fluttershy stopped joining a while ago.
Rarity doesn’t talk, either.
I know she wants to relax. I let her.
She always soaks too long. I have to hold her mane so her head is okay.
I miss when she used to talk more. But spa days are relaxation days.
The twins aren’t around. I have to pull Rarity out myself. She lays on the ground.
She’s just tired. I understand that.

Rainbow Dash has truly become lazy. I have to go to her house.
She’s always asleep. It makes no sense.
I go through her Wonderbolts collection. It’s amazing how out-of-date it is.
The weather hasn’t been the same in a while. I wish she’d get back to work.

Working hard isn’t what Applejack does anymore.
She just sleeps beneath the apple trees all day. Her head looks funny. I fix it.
The Apples are all on the ground. The apples and the Apples.
They’re rotted. The trees are dead. I chastise them. So wasteful.

I really wish Pinkie would talk more.
It’s disturbing. Her mouth just hangs open, icing hanging off her lip.
It’s there every time I’m here. I don’t understand why she lets this happen.
I don’t wipe it for her. She’s a grown mare.
I leave quickly.

I don’t bother to call for Spike. He doesn’t listen to me anymore.
He’s never here. Told me I was crazy.
Pfft. Clearly he’s the crazy one. That’s why he’s also right here.
Told me he’d leave. He couldn’t bring himself to. Told me he’d rather die than leave.
Or die than stay. I can’t remember.
I laugh, long and loud. My mirror is quite silly.
It shows me wide eyes. Knotted mane. Head tilted almost impossibly far.
Silly mirror. That’s not me. That’s a crazy mirror.
And you’re only crazy after a few thousand years. Not a couple hundred.
Ask anypony.
I’m not crazy.
And my friends are alive and well.

Author's Notes:

quite experimental. written in ten, twenty minutes.
i feel funny.
ha.