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Having other ponies around makes me awkwardly aware of my awkwardly-ness. I know it’s been a while but have my speech-thoughts always been this bad or it a recent thing? I guess I might get by by just not unvague-ing myself, but I’ve never taken pleasure in the misunderstanding. I thought of a journal I could in which to put it and any others I would later have had. Mayhaps it could be practice for improving myself with the others face-to-face. I’ve not acquaintance with this sort of exercise, but I believe it is common to write in one such as this as if a letter? Very well.


To the journal of Apple Seed:

To-day I have continued my accompaniment of the ponies to Saddle in response of the callling. We stopped shortly in a tavern. I’d bought a round for the patrons, though I have a hard time saying why (though that seems to be the same since my clock stopped sometime as a colt). I want tell you it was for the others making me realize again how I missed company, but I’m don’t want to risk breaking my policy lying. Mayhaps it was the brothers, hard on their luck; reminding me of the young Appleseed starting a pilgrimage and how the cider he drank went well to wash the knot down his throat. It could simply have been the new and familiar image of the hat on the gunman. It was nice, but the hat was not a pot. Though I’m considering getting the blood out with some chemicals, I think about it some and get back to you on that.
We had been on the way leaving the bar when we returned to witness the murder. I do not mourn for the victim or seek vengeance for his rest but, as money collectors they should know how debts to society must be paid.

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