Not all unicorns are the same, he thought.
Sure, most Dreamers shared the same vision...big, white, winged horses, frolicking amongst rainbows, joyfully galloping around a vibrant green pasture. But, that didn't mean all unicorns were meant to be, or wanted to be the same for that matter.
Unlike the others, the so-called "happy" ones that accepted this one sided, biased perspective of their species, he just wasn’t having it. He felt like he didn’t belong most days, he didn’t fit with this crowd. Sometimes, when they would kick up their hooves in delight, as they listened to the rhythm of a Taylor Swift song vibrating through the imagisphere, he just wanted to pounce on them. Fuck, every time he heard her sickly sweet voice and watched the other unicorns dance about, he wanted to puke. Actually, sometimes he would, just a little in his mouth. That's how strongly he felt about it.
It was almost more than he could handle, honest to god, it really was.
Forget that crap, he thought, that wasn’t for him. He was happiest when he was melancholic, slightly full of angst. That's when he felt most alive. Anyways, why should he conform to what everyone else considered "happy"? Huh, why?
His true joy came when he would hear the beat of the music he loved. On certain days, far off in the distance, faint as a whisper, he could sometimes hear the heavy thumping bass and hungry, crunching guitars kicking away through the thick imagisphere barrier. He heard the Dreamers call it heavy metal. He heard it, felt their love for it, saw glimpses of it through the barrier...their super cool style...the black clothing, the dark images, the non-conformity of it all. Ohhh, he fell in love instantly.
He closed his long lashed eyes and wished that one of those Dreamers would imagine him, even just once in a great while, as they slept at night. It was the only way he could become as he desired, as he was at the mercy of the Dreamer's imagination. He pictured himself in their dreams with a deep black mane, his single horn twisted and gnarly, his wings formed in some sort of terrifying stance. Oh how incredible! What a vision he would be! To live in their dreams like that is all he desired. It wasn't too much to hope for, he thought.
He fantasized about storming over to the other unicorns, his black mane flowing and crapping on their happy rainbows. Ha!
He just wanted to feel that deep metal beat, stomp around in a mosh pit, as he had heard and seen the Dreamers describe, feel it deep in his chest, in his heart, down into his soul.
That wasn’t hell, that was his heaven….
‘Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off,
Shake it off, I shake it off.....
Arrgh! Fuck! There was that horrible song again snapping him out of his beautiful daydream. Damn it! He slowly opened his eyes to see the other unicorns prancing and laughing and dancing to the beat that they so loved, just as another rainbow rose beyond the horizon, while the sun glistened and sparkled above.
He let out a huge, deep, heavy sigh and thought...Jesus, please just kill me now….