Olaf

Don’t look like that, I’m ashamed.

According to the law, I feel suffering. I also felt it without the law, but it was as if no one had approved it. Seriously.

And I’m writing very seriously today.

I feel ashamed because I have become a wreck of a pony. I’m standing here on my crooked legs, dirty and with some old rope around my mouth, begging for my life.

So they put my miserable body out for photos today. I had nothing to say. I ground myself with my hooves. I didn’t want you to look at it. On me.

Sorry. My Lord gave me no choice. Some people came and said with tears in their eyes that they would put my photos into circulation in the world. And that my story will definitely move someone.

But I don’t have a story. The law does not say that I must have it in order to be considered capable of feeling suffering. Well, I don’t have it. I just lived and had the best springs and winters.

And they want to take away the coming spring from me. I will never see winter again.

Don’t look like that. Because I would like to remember the eyes of people who admired me and included my photos in their holiday souvenirs.

I don’t want to see pity or contempt in your eyes.

I’m Olaf. Olaf, the brave pony.

And that’s how I want you to remember me when I walk down a narrow corridor tomorrow.