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AS A KID AND BEYOND did I ever wonder? what my upbringing brought for me; and did it disappoint or just bring feelings to resurface, but never sensitivities of deep down and personal, and did I really care of what there was to share, or did it make me to have bitter heart, from what had happened to me at that time, and did I condemn them later on, of those who kept the secrets of past events, or was the feelings like well things do happen! For many days in the past, I had trouble adjusting to what was a muddled mind, in the terms of growing beyond; the nappy stage and teething rings, for there were secrets with my birth, and a father who was not my dad, and I wonder if it messed with in me being an angry boy, who found no joy? of being who I was, so as for today; that when allowed to cry, emotionlessness is ingrained feelings, in never being allowed to articulate of deep-seated emotions of consciousness. and that I as person; or back then as a child, could not have changed a ruddy thing, or have I as this grownup person be, chosen to ignore or have conveniently forgotten, bout what had happened in the past? or do I firmly believe; that if you particularly and specifically have chosen to live in the times of yore, that never will you be blessed to see the light of day. however, for me today in my way, I have chosen for my life to be on a somewhat different tack, and elected to become an examiner of intimate documents; a genealogist of family trees, only ever wanting to know what did make my family tick? and where did I come from and why certain things did happen, and why was I a second-hand kid, always feeling unwanted, or unloved to extremes, when it appeared to be or so it seemed at the time. but my mission in life as it is of now, for on my computer back in the files, in my file marked descent there appears to be, that I do have this somewhat fractured family tree with missing parts, and many unresolved answers, and even these questions be are slowly being determined; with careful consideration and instance overall, for in genealogical circles, my role in all of this I have to be detached, virtually emotionless to my task which is why that how could I? make a sound judgement of past events. for when as a kid in my time of growing up, always felt unloved, only ever hand-me-downs nothing ever new. I was a snotty nosed with a piece of rag in pocket, and with scruffy boots on me feet, and even they were; from generation to generation, pass me downs to the next in line; of a McKenzie kid. never encouraged so to express myself externally, or show the gifts and talents that might I on show could offer, for in amongst this wall to wall of kids totally misunderstood; of why I wet the bed as another slap prevailed, on a daily basis spent, totally upset the applecart; for mum having to wash another set of sheets, and my mattress laid out to dry on a day-to-day basis done. a loner was I, for in amongst the tribe, I felt misplaced did I, always wondering why did we have to move? never settling down of staying in one place, forever; like a band of roving gypsies, always on the go, never having friends only overbearing kids. always in a fight, never really understood of why I stood me ground; as an argumentative sort of bugger. but! from I what I believe back then ‘twas a very unsettled childhood, I have grown up to be; the man that I am today, with wife, kids and grandkids. for my journey up to now, has seen many episodes, of toil, struggle and grief, but also; many days in growing up and having an awareness, of understanding past events, whereas; I can understand that now, I have more days of sunshine and happiness which is ever surrounding me. consequently, in my present day; I have become a descriptive soul of how I feel in words, and having a pure pleasure in transcribing down on paper, for my journey has been long, sometimes being wrong, sometimes a colorful one, sometimes fraught with danger, sometimes without feelings of kind, therefore, when the final curtain closes will my story be told? of a scruffy skinny kid with freckles; who made something with his life? and loved his mother deep. Francis Cooper - Mac
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