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Re: Sasori App [3]
Background History:
People enjoy being known. Whether it is for a good thing, a bad thing, known through the screaming view of the public eye, or the soft, subtle voices of the underground was at the discretion of the individual. Some fame you are born into, some you hear. The shyest person in the world will smile and inwardly beam at a hint of recognition. Those whose fame is laced in the media for the public... their very beings are obliterated with rumors. Every flaw, every mistake, every misstep and deterioration. Because the public is only interested in flaws. If the nationally famed are flawed, perhaps I too could be airbrushed to perfection on the cover of a national magazine. Ogled at and lusted for by lonely men and newly developing teenage boys. Envied and lusted by ill-confident women and pimple popping girls who dream of being the princesses society adores. The pressure of society is so intense - ads screaming at men and woman alike: Look younger! Be thin! Eat Healthy! Wear this! Drink this! Make money! Work less! - that people forget their individuality and spend their lives desperately trying to conform to the Barbie-Kun molds that not a single person truly enjoys, but feel is required of them.

Sixteen years in the care of his grandmother demolished Sasori's appeal towards women, as well as theirs of him. Girls were whiny. They demanded attention, their bodies were awkward and altered by the unhealthy food that their taste buds were destroyed by at a young age by their parents. They also made the sound of swine about to be slaughtered whenever they saw or heard something furry, fuzzy, tiny, scary, smelly and many other adjectives. Once they were no longer girls, they were women and even the word woman drew his mind to the crackling voice and skin that fell off the bones like melting putty that often became of a woman at an older age.

The strictness of his grandmother had been around ever since he could remember. Possibly even before his parents had died, but before then he never noticed. Maybe too young to notice, he didn't care. While he continually found contempt for society and their bumbling idiocy, getting away from his grandmother had been very high on his priorities. Because she loved him. Doted on him. He hated it. To him it felt like a movie and she was acting. Maybe all teenagers thought that. Actually, he was pretty sure they did, but he also knew that Grandmother Chiyo was terrible. Terrible enough to drown all the complaints of his classmates in the Hudson River where they could have their skin boiled off in the toxic water.