[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]As a child, Theodore had little but the clothes on his back and a different reality to immerse himself in. Reading books allowed a sweet escapism so necessary in the life that he was trapped in. Most days, he watched life pass by as if he were nothing but a spectator in a movie. Behind his eyes, he’d kick his feet up and passively watch the horror of day to day tribulations. Mama died, and nothing to curb the loneliness in the same way as escapism did. Not even seeking justice could right the wrongs of her awful passing. In most ways to Teddy, justice seemed to be nothing more than a literary conceit. What was justice if Mama wasn’t there to see it?
Even today, a part of Teddy would always feel out of touch in reality, as if this life wasn’t his for the taking. He felt to be an imposter in his own skin, as if all the years lost in novels meant that he began to lose himself too. He’d obediently watched the world pass by for so many years of his childhood that actively throttling his life into motion felt to be more like an assault rather than ambition. Perhaps he had been overcompensating for all of these years once he realised he had to take his life into his own hands. All of this vicious passion and inspiration, he no longer wished to be the meek young boy whose life felt more like a devastation in a movie scene, but a charming young man who paved the way for a life he felt was worth living.
But even still, the cracks of his former life still remained. Once one had distinguished a crack from an otherwise pristine illustration, it was difficult to look away.
In the late morning, whilst many Badlanders took the morning off from their daily chores, Teddy sat upon a sun lounger in his swimwear whilst he sunbathed. In his hands he held a novel recommended by Beatrice when he finally decided to give her kiosk a visit. This mawkish ode to romance was nearly nauseating to read, but Teddy would complete the novel before making his final judgements. Those banal books of romance and yearning for a forever with another were seldom a genre Teddy thought was ever worth reading, but he’d not turn down a recommendation.
All he could come to conclude was that Beatrice was likely far more sentimental than Teddy could ever be. It made sense to him; it seemed as if nothing was worth holding onto in his life, especially since he’d inevitably lose it all in the end anyways.
Even today, a part of Teddy would always feel out of touch in reality, as if this life wasn’t his for the taking. He felt to be an imposter in his own skin, as if all the years lost in novels meant that he began to lose himself too. He’d obediently watched the world pass by for so many years of his childhood that actively throttling his life into motion felt to be more like an assault rather than ambition. Perhaps he had been overcompensating for all of these years once he realised he had to take his life into his own hands. All of this vicious passion and inspiration, he no longer wished to be the meek young boy whose life felt more like a devastation in a movie scene, but a charming young man who paved the way for a life he felt was worth living.
But even still, the cracks of his former life still remained. Once one had distinguished a crack from an otherwise pristine illustration, it was difficult to look away.
In the late morning, whilst many Badlanders took the morning off from their daily chores, Teddy sat upon a sun lounger in his swimwear whilst he sunbathed. In his hands he held a novel recommended by Beatrice when he finally decided to give her kiosk a visit. This mawkish ode to romance was nearly nauseating to read, but Teddy would complete the novel before making his final judgements. Those banal books of romance and yearning for a forever with another were seldom a genre Teddy thought was ever worth reading, but he’d not turn down a recommendation.
All he could come to conclude was that Beatrice was likely far more sentimental than Teddy could ever be. It made sense to him; it seemed as if nothing was worth holding onto in his life, especially since he’d inevitably lose it all in the end anyways.
[align=center][div style="width: 400px; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify; font-size: 6pt; line-height: 1.4; letter-spacing: 0.5px; word-spacing: 2px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]✧･ﾟ: I'VE BEEN IN LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES, DATED EVERY WOMAN IN THE ATMOSPHERE. I'VE BEEN TO EVERY CONTINENT, BROKEN ALL THE HEARTS IN EVERY HEMISPHERE, AND IF I'M NOT THE TYPE OF GUY YOU LIKE TO CIRCUMVENT, JUST REMEMBER NOT TO LOVE ME WHEN I DISAPPEAR. I GRADUATED AT THE TOP, I LIKE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE BOURGEOISIE . . .