Timbur: I’m fine, can’t you see? Never mind what’s going on inside, who cares? I sure don’t! I’m over it. Look at all the things I have! All the mares that want me. I’m unstoppable! She’ll have to respect me! She will!! They don’t even know what’s coming.. ———— Timbur keeps telling himself that he’s fine. That he’s over it. But internally. He is torn. Torn between two worlds of trying to fill the hole in his heart with materials and short times of pleasure for himself, anything to fix the aching, begging heart. Anything, to make him feel whole. To make him feel remotely safe. To feel free. Timbur is a liar. He lies, saying that these things will cure him. That he is somehow better than his mother when he is being the same, if not worse. Timbur can’t you see? ~Grr