Turning into stone was never a pleasant experience. Especially not for someone with the mindset of Discord. His whole life was spent being active and lively. Now his thoughts, actions, dreams, and visions were destroyed. Of all the punishments that could be bestowed on a spirit of chaos, there was nothing quite as bad as being turned to stone. He'd rather be dead. He couldn't curse or scream, all he could do was watch as the boring, anti-chaotic world rolled by him.
So many years of consciously standing they're, gripping his chest and yelling at the heavens. When rain or snow fell he'd be left out in the open. Snow and ice would pill up on his freezing wings and rain would get caught in his mouth. Years went by and as a castle was established so was it's garden. There he was placed among several statues, none of which were actually beings at some point. Ponies would pass through the garden laughing at his features or trying to guess what he represented. Though his body was frozen, Discord's brain was very much active. All his thoughts dwelled on what he would do when and if he was ever freed from his stony prison.