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By: Shiggler on Jul 23rd, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 12.13 KB | hits: 286 | expires: Never

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Super-duper gay feels time.
For the FR circlejerk, and any other writer/artist/whatever whom I've had the pleasure of speaking to.
Love, your friendly neighbourhood Shiggler.
>All of us knew that no matter how many times we told ourselves it wouldn't, the ride would someday come to an end.
>Deep in our hearts, deep in our minds.
>We just didn't want it to ever come true.
>And yes, we did all cling to it like a baby chimp clings to its mother.
>After all, what does one do with the things one cherishes the most?
>One keeps them close to their hearts.
>This silly little show...
>A show that was never made for us...
>A show that never expected the popularity it enjoyed...
>A show that captivated everything we could ever want.
>We would complain, by god would we complain.
>But no matter what happened, we stuck through every single event that meant “the ride was over”.
>The wedding, the film, and the last alicorn.
>Our community banded together, and we had fun.
>Our fun was interrupted by pointless bickering, condemnation by the close-minded, and other things... Even the dreaded Scruffening.
>But all that was nothing to us.
>Never meant a thing.
>Because at the end of the day, we still had our silly show about colourful horses.
>They made us smile, they made us cry, they made us laugh.
>But most importantly, they taught us about friendship.
>Something that so many of us seemed to lack, or only had scraps of it left.
>From those lessons, we found friendship ourselves.
>And friendship, it turns out, knows no boundaries of country, colour, creed.
>The internet is a great source of many things...
>And from it, we formed communities within the community.
>You are Shiggler.
>The one that struck you the most, was perhaps the most peculiar bunch of individuals you ever met.
>The community itself?
>Well... it was called Flutterrape.
>Sounds dark and horrific, but inside were simply unique people who wanted to make people laugh.
>You remember the first story you ever posted.
>A simple story about a lonesome Anonymous who finally found his place, only to have his dreams shattered.
>It wasn't very good. You didn't even pre-write.
>But these people, whom you had never met, who owed me nothing, were willing to give me a chance.
>The first to take you under his wing was Nebulus.
>He gave you so much advice on how to make that simple story something more.
>And so you did.
>Kind-hearted and wise was the first impression you got from him.
>Then, after some time, he introduced you to yet ANOTHER community within a community.
>This group was composed of writers, singers, weapon fans, and even some simple lurkers.
>If you're honest, you were nervous being exposed to so many unknowns.
>But Nebulus was sure they would treat you as their own.
>”Gentlemen. Shiggler.”
>With that, you were thrust into a group of people who made a huge impact on you in such a short space of time.
>The circlejerk.
>Expecting to be met with instant hostility, instead these people simply tipped their metaphorical hats.
>”Welcome to the jerk Mr. Shiggler, you can't leave here... ever...”
>So you thought anyway.
>Instantly, you were greeted by Monk, a man so sincere and talented in his writing that he made you feel things for characters you never thought you would.
>Then came Lasagna... Lasagna's strong point was never writing, but more in his obscure tastes of pornography.
>...You were both shocked and amused at his albums on imgur.
>Road was one of the lurkers, and despite his bashfulness he was sure to make you feel like a part of this little crew.
>After Road, Swift. A writer who, after only reading a few parts of A Taste Of Harmony, you were envious of. His proficiency in portraying the plot of stories was impeccable.
>Lastly came Gnome. You were skeptical of him at first, he seemed to be completely indifferent to everything.
>Everything but guns. His collection was enormous.
>And so, you had met the “regulars”.
>Over time, you met different people, all with their own quirks and perks.
>Domino, a guy who had an annoying little brother, but who always proved he was boss.
>Pickle, the one with odd fetishes and a knack for writing homolove.
>Panda, the tragic one who somehow always had a smile on his face. Probably from his love of syrup.
>Collar, an excellent writer who wrote the best slice-of-life you could ever imagine.
>Noel, sole Argentinian who thankfully survived a bullet wound. That man is made of steel.
>Clever, the critic. And rightfully so. His stories were near flawless.
>Cordan, the cynic. 2edgy4lyf indeed.
>Pudding, a fellow Britfag. He was extremely excited after he found out you shared his grief of being born on the island.
>Lumber, the Canadian who just loved to cut down trees.
>Raritan, famous for the wrong reasons. Cries of “read my stories” are not what he should be remembered for.
>Baratone, a baritone. This man had the most amazing voice in the world. It still confuses you why he wasn't famous for it when you first heard him talk.
>BFN, the artist. No matter what he was asked to draw, he'd draw it, and not only draw, but bring it to life.
>Aviator... well, he was just Aviator. There's no way to describe him. A philosophical one, his vision not led askew by morals of the world.
>Urban was a generous fellow. He tried his absolute best to help Baratone get into the voice acting business. The man deserved it, and Urban knew it along with the rest of us.
>System had always been a good guy. Cheering up people seemed to be his thing; he was always excited whenever anyone logged on.
>Last but not least came Tog. You clearly remember a picture of his face, covered by shades and a scarf, with a middle finger up to you. And you remember laughing your fucking ass off.
>And so, this was our circlejerk.
>Perhaps in the dark days of hiatus, the only thing that sustained our love for our silly cartoon.
>Sharing videos, pictures, stories, whatever we could find.
>It was our little corner of the internet where we could openly broadcast anything without true judgement.
>These people changed the way you viewed the world in such a short space of time.
>You truly believe no other group of people could have done so.
>And you were right. For the rest of your days, you remained an optimistic, cynical bastard.
>The best kind of contrast.
>After you had spent an entire summer talking to these guys, you were smitten that you'd be here forever.
>...And that's when you were finally proven wrong.
>It was the middle of 2017, and we were waiting in anticipation.
>The finale of Season 7 of Small Horse: Friends are Good was about to air.
>As we all gathered round our computers, TVs, tablets, general-video-viewing devices, we were awestruck.
>In our voice chat, we waited.
>That finale...
>Was the finale of our show.
>Princess Twilight Sparkle had left Equestria.
>In a final battle of wits, power and dexterity, she had defeated every single ill that could have been thrown at her.
>And in return...
>She had ascended to another plane.
>All of her friends watched as she departed, all with tears in their eyes.
>They were all speechless.
>The first to break the seemingly never-ending silence?
>Spike.
>”I... didn't even get to say g-goodbye...”
>Roll credits.
>A piano plays.
>The familiarity...
>In our voice chat, we heard a timid voice singing.
>”My little pony, my little pony...”
>It belonged to our beloved Arizonian friend Road.
>Somebody whispered “Gay.”
>Another whispered “fucking dammit.”
>But...
>”I used to wonder what friendship could be...”
>Then...
>We all began to sing.
>We fucking sung.
>It was like a choir of seagulls on crack, but...
>We sung.
>And it felt great.
>Once it was over...
>Nobody spoke for a few minutes.
>The first thing uttered was from a familiar voice.
>”Well I dunno about you guys, but I say you're all a bunch of fucking faggots.”
“Lasagna. You big bastard.”
>”Well, somebody had to say it.”
>The entire jerk erupted in united laughter.
>...And it was the last we had.
>After that episode...
>You went to 4chan.
>*click*
>Pony.
>You instantly went to the bottom of the page expecting outrage, but...
>There was only one new thread.
>The picture was the first vector of the mane 6.
>But what did it say?
>”The magic... it's truly gone.”
>Over 1000 replies.
>Many of them of that old vector of Rainbow saluting.
>”Goodbye, /mlp/. It's been a fun few years. Someday... I'll see you all in Equestria. I look forward to it.”
>”For all of its shitposting, for all of its weird-ass fetish threads (I'm lookin' at you, FR), and for all of its occasional hugboxing, I fucking love this board. I'm genuinely fucking sad to see this go. I [spoiler]love[/spoiler] you /mlp/.”
>That was enough.
>You knew it.
>The jerk knew it.
>The ride...
>...was finally...
>...and most definitely...
>...
>Over time, the conversations became more stale.
>”What's going on?”
>”Nothing. Normally I'd be writing but... I have no energy.”
>The end truly drained us.
>There was nothing to look forward to for the show, and eventually, even the shittiest of OCs began to fade.
>No more threads where we'd laugh at how “autistic” someone was.
>No more threads made by newfags, deplored by >>>/ponychan/
>And, perhaps the hardest hitting for us...
>No more Flutterrape.
>Once that was gone, the 'jerk was doomed.
>There wasn't even a final goodbye.
>...
>It's been many years since then.
>You now have an alright job, pays decent money, you have a good few friends.
>But, you are quite far from the youthful days of the past.
>You are old. Fragile. Weak.
>Something has been itching at you as of late though.
>The latter of your teenage years...
>They were filled with a joy that you hadn't discovered since.
>Those old days...
>You try to recall the name of that group you were part of.
>It's difficult, but...
>It was the circlekirk... right?
>In your living room, your laptop beckons you to come to it.
>And so you do.
>Your old account...
>Come on, REMEMBER!
>Perhaps there's a chance that one of them is actually online.
>Opening up an archaic copy of Skype, you set it to compatibility mode with Windows 8.
>...Cordan would lynch you for that.
>Typing in your details, your heart races with excitement.
>Username: [DATA EXEMPT]
>Password: [DATA EXEMPT]
>...
(You faggots didn't really think I'd let you get my Skype, did you?)
>The loading circle keeps going...
>And going...
>Until it makes that old whoosh noise that everyone hates.
>You look to the left, the contacts list.
>...No-one's online.
>The jerk is still there.
>A single message, left by Nebulus from 3 years ago, is left.
>”Hello, jerk.”
>And nobody replied.
>If anything, it jerks a tear from your eye.
>The feeling compels you to do something that could be madness, or genius.
>With a heavy heart, you type one last message with your frail hands.
”To reiterate from Nebulus: Hello, jerk. I can only pray this gets out to you all. It's been... so very long. Times have changed and I imagine that there's no doubt you all have. I just wanted to say one final word, if I never get the chance again.
”Throughout my years there has been turmoil, grief, sadness, anything you could imagine. But none of that matters. Any time I got myself in a bad situation, or a bad mood, or I just simply had a bad day, I'd recall. And you know what I'd recall?
“I'd recall each and every single one of you fucking cunts. The years I spent talking to you guys... Some may call them a waste, some may say it was pointless, but I reject all that, and I say no. You folk made each and every single day on this Earth unexpectedly fun.
“Even if we never did get to hang out with each other as one group, even if we didn't co-write the shittiest Flutterrape ever, I still had the best of times simply talking to you and getting to know you guys. I wouldn't have changed it for anything.
“Nothing would make me happier for all of that to return... But I highly doubt that would happen. In any case, all I really want to say to you bunch of fucking weirdos is this.
“Thank you. Thank you so fucking much for making my life interesting once more. I'll see you all in Equestria.”
>”Seen.”

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data

Super-duper gay feels time.
For the FR circlejerk, and any other writer/artist/whatever whom I've had the pleasure of speaking to.
Love, your friendly neighbourhood Shiggler.

>All of us knew that no matter how many times we told ourselves it wouldn't, the ride would someday come to an end.
>Deep in our hearts, deep in our minds.
>We just didn't want it to ever come true.
>And yes, we did all cling to it like a baby chimp clings to its mother.
>After all, what does one do with the things one cherishes the most?
>One keeps them close to their hearts.
>This silly little show...
>A show that was never made for us...
>A show that never expected the popularity it enjoyed...
>A show that captivated everything we could ever want.
>We would complain, by god would we complain.
>But no matter what happened, we stuck through every single event that meant “the ride was over”.
>The wedding, the film, and the last alicorn.
>Our community banded together, and we had fun.
>Our fun was interrupted by pointless bickering, condemnation by the close-minded, and other things... Even the dreaded Scruffening.
>But all that was nothing to us.
>Never meant a thing.
>Because at the end of the day, we still had our silly show about colourful horses.
>They made us smile, they made us cry, they made us laugh.
>But most importantly, they taught us about friendship.
>Something that so many of us seemed to lack, or only had scraps of it left.
>From those lessons, we found friendship ourselves.
>And friendship, it turns out, knows no boundaries of country, colour, creed.
>The internet is a great source of many things...
>And from it, we formed communities within the community.

>You are Shiggler.

>The one that struck you the most, was perhaps the most peculiar bunch of individuals you ever met.
>The community itself?
>Well... it was called Flutterrape.
>Sounds dark and horrific, but inside were simply unique people who wanted to make people laugh.
>You remember the first story you ever posted.
>A simple story about a lonesome Anonymous who finally found his place, only to have his dreams shattered.
>It wasn't very good. You didn't even pre-write.
>But these people, whom you had never met, who owed me nothing, were willing to give me a chance.
>The first to take you under his wing was Nebulus.
>He gave you so much advice on how to make that simple story something more.
>And so you did.
>Kind-hearted and wise was the first impression you got from him.
>Then, after some time, he introduced you to yet ANOTHER community within a community.
>This group was composed of writers, singers, weapon fans, and even some simple lurkers.
>If you're honest, you were nervous being exposed to so many unknowns.
>But Nebulus was sure they would treat you as their own.
>”Gentlemen. Shiggler.”
>With that, you were thrust into a group of people who made a huge impact on you in such a short space of time.
>The circlejerk.
>Expecting to be met with instant hostility, instead these people simply tipped their metaphorical hats.
>”Welcome to the jerk Mr. Shiggler, you can't leave here... ever...”
>So you thought anyway.
>Instantly, you were greeted by Monk, a man so sincere and talented in his writing that he made you feel things for characters you never thought you would.
>Then came Lasagna... Lasagna's strong point was never writing, but more in his obscure tastes of pornography.
>...You were both shocked and amused at his albums on imgur.
>Road was one of the lurkers, and despite his bashfulness he was sure to make you feel like a part of this little crew.
>After Road, Swift. A writer who, after only reading a few parts of A Taste Of Harmony, you were envious of. His proficiency in portraying the plot of stories was impeccable.
>Lastly came Gnome. You were skeptical of him at first, he seemed to be completely indifferent to everything.
>Everything but guns. His collection was enormous.
>And so, you had met the “regulars”.
>Over time, you met different people, all with their own quirks and perks.
>Domino, a guy who had an annoying little brother, but who always proved he was boss.
>Pickle, the one with odd fetishes and a knack for writing homolove.
>Panda, the tragic one who somehow always had a smile on his face. Probably from his love of syrup.
>Collar, an excellent writer who wrote the best slice-of-life you could ever imagine.
>Noel, sole Argentinian who thankfully survived a bullet wound. That man is made of steel.
>Clever, the critic. And rightfully so. His stories were near flawless.
>Cordan, the cynic. 2edgy4lyf indeed.
>Pudding, a fellow Britfag. He was extremely excited after he found out you shared his grief of being born on the island.
>Lumber, the Canadian who just loved to cut down trees.
>Raritan, famous for the wrong reasons. Cries of “read my stories” are not what he should be remembered for.
>Baratone, a baritone. This man had the most amazing voice in the world. It still confuses you why he wasn't famous for it when you first heard him talk.
>BFN, the artist. No matter what he was asked to draw, he'd draw it, and not only draw, but bring it to life.
>Aviator... well, he was just Aviator. There's no way to describe him. A philosophical one, his vision not led askew by morals of the world.
>Urban was a generous fellow. He tried his absolute best to help Baratone get into the voice acting business. The man deserved it, and Urban knew it along with the rest of us.
>System had always been a good guy. Cheering up people seemed to be his thing; he was always excited whenever anyone logged on.
>Last but not least came Tog. You clearly remember a picture of his face, covered by shades and a scarf, with a middle finger up to you. And you remember laughing your fucking ass off.
>And so, this was our circlejerk.
>Perhaps in the dark days of hiatus, the only thing that sustained our love for our silly cartoon.
>Sharing videos, pictures, stories, whatever we could find.
>It was our little corner of the internet where we could openly broadcast anything without true judgement.
>These people changed the way you viewed the world in such a short space of time.
>You truly believe no other group of people could have done so.
>And you were right. For the rest of your days, you remained an optimistic, cynical bastard.
>The best kind of contrast.
>After you had spent an entire summer talking to these guys, you were smitten that you'd be here forever.
>...And that's when you were finally proven wrong.

>It was the middle of 2017, and we were waiting in anticipation.
>The finale of Season 7 of Small Horse: Friends are Good was about to air.
>As we all gathered round our computers, TVs, tablets, general-video-viewing devices, we were awestruck.
>In our voice chat, we waited.
>That finale...
>Was the finale of our show.
>Princess Twilight Sparkle had left Equestria.
>In a final battle of wits, power and dexterity, she had defeated every single ill that could have been thrown at her.
>And in return...
>She had ascended to another plane.
>All of her friends watched as she departed, all with tears in their eyes.
>They were all speechless.
>The first to break the seemingly never-ending silence?
>Spike.
>”I... didn't even get to say g-goodbye...”
>Roll credits.
>A piano plays.
>The familiarity...
>In our voice chat, we heard a timid voice singing.
>”My little pony, my little pony...”
>It belonged to our beloved Arizonian friend Road.
>Somebody whispered “Gay.”
>Another whispered “fucking dammit.”
>But...
>”I used to wonder what friendship could be...”
>Then...
>We all began to sing.
>We fucking sung.
>It was like a choir of seagulls on crack, but...
>We sung.
>And it felt great.
>Once it was over...
>Nobody spoke for a few minutes.
>The first thing uttered was from a familiar voice.
>”Well I dunno about you guys, but I say you're all a bunch of fucking faggots.”
“Lasagna. You big bastard.”
>”Well, somebody had to say it.”
>The entire jerk erupted in united laughter.
>...And it was the last we had.

>After that episode...
>You went to 4chan.
>*click*
>Pony.
>You instantly went to the bottom of the page expecting outrage, but...
>There was only one new thread.
>The picture was the first vector of the mane 6.
>But what did it say?
>”The magic... it's truly gone.”
>Over 1000 replies.
>Many of them of that old vector of Rainbow saluting.
>”Goodbye, /mlp/. It's been a fun few years. Someday... I'll see you all in Equestria. I look forward to it.”
>”For all of its shitposting, for all of its weird-ass fetish threads (I'm lookin' at you, FR), and for all of its occasional hugboxing, I fucking love this board. I'm genuinely fucking sad to see this go. I [spoiler]love[/spoiler] you /mlp/.”
>That was enough.
>You knew it.
>The jerk knew it.
>The ride...
>...was finally...
>...and most definitely...
>...

>Over time, the conversations became more stale.
>”What's going on?”
>”Nothing. Normally I'd be writing but... I have no energy.”
>The end truly drained us.
>There was nothing to look forward to for the show, and eventually, even the shittiest of OCs began to fade.
>No more threads where we'd laugh at how “autistic” someone was.
>No more threads made by newfags, deplored by >>>/ponychan/
>And, perhaps the hardest hitting for us...
>No more Flutterrape.
>Once that was gone, the 'jerk was doomed.

>There wasn't even a final goodbye.


>...


>It's been many years since then.
>You now have an alright job, pays decent money, you have a good few friends.
>But, you are quite far from the youthful days of the past.
>You are old. Fragile. Weak.
>Something has been itching at you as of late though.
>The latter of your teenage years...
>They were filled with a joy that you hadn't discovered since.
>Those old days...
>You try to recall the name of that group you were part of.
>It's difficult, but...
>It was the circlekirk... right?
>In your living room, your laptop beckons you to come to it.
>And so you do.
>Your old account...
>Come on, REMEMBER!
>Perhaps there's a chance that one of them is actually online.
>Opening up an archaic copy of Skype, you set it to compatibility mode with Windows 8.
>...Cordan would lynch you for that.
>Typing in your details, your heart races with excitement.
>Username: [DATA EXEMPT]
>Password: [DATA EXEMPT]
>...
(You faggots didn't really think I'd let you get my Skype, did you?)
>The loading circle keeps going...
>And going...
>Until it makes that old whoosh noise that everyone hates.
>You look to the left, the contacts list.
>...No-one's online.
>The jerk is still there.
>A single message, left by Nebulus from 3 years ago, is left.
>”Hello, jerk.”
>And nobody replied.
>If anything, it jerks a tear from your eye.
>The feeling compels you to do something that could be madness, or genius.
>With a heavy heart, you type one last message with your frail hands.
”To reiterate from Nebulus: Hello, jerk. I can only pray this gets out to you all. It's been... so very long. Times have changed and I imagine that there's no doubt you all have. I just wanted to say one final word, if I never get the chance again.
”Throughout my years there has been turmoil, grief, sadness, anything you could imagine. But none of that matters. Any time I got myself in a bad situation, or a bad mood, or I just simply had a bad day, I'd recall. And you know what I'd recall?
“I'd recall each and every single one of you fucking cunts. The years I spent talking to you guys... Some may call them a waste, some may say it was pointless, but I reject all that, and I say no. You folk made each and every single day on this Earth unexpectedly fun.
“Even if we never did get to hang out with each other as one group, even if we didn't co-write the shittiest Flutterrape ever, I still had the best of times simply talking to you and getting to know you guys. I wouldn't have changed it for anything.
“Nothing would make me happier for all of that to return... But I highly doubt that would happen. In any case, all I really want to say to you bunch of fucking weirdos is this.
“Thank you. Thank you so fucking much for making my life interesting once more. I'll see you all in Equestria.”
>”Seen.”

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