But all of my life, I've been treated like a fool
But I'm no one's fool

Man of Simple Pleasures - Kasabian
Purple Yellow Red & Blue - Portugal. The Man
Forty One Mosquitoes Flying In Formation - Tame Impala
Black Wave / Bad Vibrations - Arcade Fire
Spanish Moss - Against Me!
bossa - saiko

Born and raised in Greylake, Marcellin came to hate the city at a tender age. With its noise and restlessness and people, Marcellin’s childhood was spent seeking solace in the quiet of parks. Such solace also brought with it a more than welcome escape from an unhappy home life. Miserabl would have been an apt word to describe it. Marcellin’s mother raised him as she herself had been raised: harshly, favouring critique above encouragement, never showing affection. She did love him, but Marcellin would have never believed it. Marcellin never met his father - the man having divorced his mother before he was born - and only knew him from his mother’s passing comments.

Unfortunately for Marcellin, his life outside the apartment was not much better. Relentless mocking by his peers (for everything ranging from Marcellin’s withdrawn nature to his struggling to read out loud) only fueled Marcellin’s desire to run away even more. His mother had no comments on her son’s struggles, often criticising him for being lazy or having his head up in the clouds.

Marcellin found himself out of school at eighteen. Years of mockery had eroded his confidence so much he did not believe himself capable of higher education or, as his mother demanded, finding a job.

Leaving felt less like a choice and more like a necessity.

Marcellin picked up his belongings (and money he stole from his mother) and hopped on the cheapest train to nowhere in particular, thus beginning the life he had so often fantasised about.

The following years were spent wandering the Vareman countryside by public transit or, more frequently, with a bicycle Marcellin acquired eventually and which became his signature. He relished the small towns and spent as little time as he could in cities. Funding his lifestyle were the odd jobs Marcellin picked up along the way, such as leatherworking, house painting, delivery... The delivery was more of an ever-present side job, because Marcellin’s deliveries were never legal. Counterfeit goods, drugs, clandestine news… So long as his employer was paying, Marcellin was more than happy to cross the country ferrying anything.

Living the life of a vagabond was liberating. Marcellin adopted fake identities when needed and formed superficial relationships for his benefit; in time he regained some of the confidence lost in his childhood and adolescence, though his appreciation for solitude never changed. Those superficial relationships sometimes turned romantic. Marcellin had no qualms with seducing people if it meant finding work or a roof to sleep under - though he became quite proficient at camping due to his lifestyle, the stars became his ceiling.

Now I don't focus on the hopeless
When I look out it's only for me