seventh night

i was looking at the lump of metal formerly known as a compass when i saw him. i looked out my window. he was walking down the street, as if he was a normal person, his legs and arms unnaturally long, his face a blank whiteness. i could see him, but he was not looking at me. did he see me? or did he just not care? he must have been looking for a different target today. should i be glad? he never scared me like the others. i wonder why.

once upon a time, there was a filly who wandered into the dark and scary forest. but when she encountered a group of trees, faces carved into their trunks, she did not scream nor whimper. 

instead, she sang. 

"when i was a little filly, and the sun was going down
the darkness and the shadows, they would always make me frown
i'd hide under my pillow from what i thought i saw,
but granny pie said that wasn't the way to deal with fears at all
she said, 'pinkie, you gotta stand up tall
learn to face your fears.
you'll see that they can't hurt you
just laugh to make them disappear.'
so, giggle at the ghostly
guffaw at the grossly
crack up at the creepy
whoop it up with the weepy
chortle at the kooky
snortle at the spooky
and tell that big dumb scary face to take a hike and leave you alone
and if he thinks he can scare you then he's got another thing coming and the very idea of such a thing just makes you wanna...
laugh!"

pinkie pie makes some good points. but laughing at things doesn't always work, doesn't always reveal the light beneath the shadow. sometimes beneath the shadow, there is just more darkness.