You will never believe how far I have come.

From here to there. But there is here. Here is now.

And the then and the now have so many differences that when you juxtapose them, the differences can make a collage out of nothing. Monochrome because the contrast is greater, more starkly beautiful.

But art is subjective. Subjective to the point of fault. My fault. My actions. Me.

Me in the mirror. Me in the reflection of the screen. Me in the glass of the windscreen as the car reverses, leaving me here. Alone. Again.

But they never know that I can backtrack too. Narcissists follow their reflections.

Stop. Pause. Rewind. Play. I control the controls of my fate.

I'm living it all over again.

This time I'm making the right mistakes. The correct wrongs.

This is how far I've come.