I see a little boy in my thoughts and he is alive. He listens to Dr. Seuss on an old record album that his mom bought him and he reads along with the story. It is around Xmas because I see the lights twinkling from the tree. He is 7 years old and full of hope and joy. He does not know that his parents are fighting in the kitchen. His dad sits him down on the couch and explains as well as he can that he has to go away. The boy just thinks it is temporary. I'm sure that he was not aware that his life was just starting to fall apart and so he grows up not knowing anything. His father finds companionship as does his mother. He continues to grow.
His stepmother yells at him. His dad is not aware, the boy does not care. His life is OK. The boy loves his family and he is happy by himself. His father gives him his guitar and he plays and plays that guitar. That guitar made his dad depressed because he used to play songs to his wife.
Both families live, and die, in good health, and the boy lives on to become something great.
"I always wonder what this world would be without artists. It would not be original, it would be generic and boring. Perhaps hell is a world without art and music. My life is art, heaven is art, forget this all."