Childhood

 How many childhoods I have live over the years? every space, place and instant i could i play, i sang, i was silly, dance, made up things about reality to keep up with job. I had to do everything for the child to survive and not become stale still inside a body trapped inside  the symbolic order. 

Now that I can clearly feel myself entering another phase of growth, I recognize it as yet another side effect of evolution.

My body is preparing for something else. It is becoming a cocoon.

Like the caterpillar, I feel myself transforming once again. The matter that has shaped this strange, alien being will slowly dissolve. The masks are falling away. The skin wrinkles, ready to be shed.

It happens in slow motion, almost imperceptibly.

But speed up the film, and the truth becomes impossible to ignore:

death is approaching

not as an ending,

but as the ultimate,

or perhaps simply the next,

transformation.

The child made it this far.

The body, however, is beginning to fall apart.

But until the last breath,
until the last drop of paint,
we will squeeze every last ounce of soul from this body.