Childhood became, fragmented, with bits, and pieces, extracted out and, things, missing, from those days, don’t know where we’d lost them, and frankly, we don’t, really care all that much either…
not my painting…
Why, do the childhood all become, fragmented? Is it because, they were that way to begin with, and we’re the ones, failure, to notice? Or, did something happen in the childhood years, to break that connectedness off, to cause that originally smooth-running line, to fragment?
Childhood became, fragmented, there’s nothing any of us can do about that, ‘cuz it’s not as if we can go back in time, and change the past, is it? Nope! And, all we can do now, is keep moving forward, and, not allowing those fragmented, sharpened shards of our childhood years, cut us and make us all bleed.
not my photograph still…
Childhood became, fragmented, because none of us could choose our parents, and, because our parents just wanted to FUCK, like rabbits, and out popped, pretty little mistakes, one, by one, and that, is what the world will come to………………
Life, the Obstacle Course 