The Abstract Art Gallery
Broken, confused writer Jack Thomas puts the images in his mind on display in this "Blog." He dives into personal experience and his observations of the world to share his take on morality, childhood trauma, creativity, relationships, sex, politics, religion, violence, reality and more. Using countless formats from narrative driven short stories, to poetry, to song lyrics and philosophical explanations.
...The ideas get dragged in a desperate search for something,
For anything, for purpose,
But scribbled dribble is all that shows,
Persist, may he who knows nothing,
For he who knows all quits once all is known,
While he who knows nothing knows there is always more to be known,
Plastic is the gateway to the virtual,
Reality, the grand illusion, rests across a screen,
Typing away,
Typing a way out,
Away and out of the enclosed...
Read More...The wall,
The quite red dead wall,
Stands tall,
Red chunks that fall,
Static,
Static,
Motionless,
Once Sporadic,
Emotionless,
Gold badges,
Stretchers,
Black bags...
Knowing the self is the only way to improve.
To reflect and face the madness that goes denied, ignored and neglected.
The superego within our souls fights rational thought with its powerful emotions.
Driven by nature, it’s a force that is unstoppable.
But understanding that the mind, body and soul come as one establishes equilibrium.
The acknowledged flaw becomes a strength in the mind of the wise.
Unresolved issues remain issue unresolved.
In to the room
Flashing lights
Rhythm flows to their tune
One that's profound
Not too soon
A melody and bass too
Real dark
With a boom
Self-Control
Difficult, Rational
Enlightening, Enhancing, Improving
Most Rational Under Stress
Elevated
...determined hands continues forward towards some nonexistent goal.
Thoughts in distress and panic beg for forgiveness. For a chance to avoid this purposeless punishment. But it will not be granted. They shall not be freed. They are the inspiration, caged and tortured. Their pain is real thus it must be bottled...
Read More...where to go to probe and let go.
If so, he’ll let flow drive slow and let know.
Although the cold wind blows through the car window.
Withering and lost, the cost of splintering losses.
Fickle the frail bearing of a hindering...
Set the past ablaze
Orange flames
Clear storage space
Erase bad days
Leave
...take the red one from the other hand of that same motherfucker, man.
It’s the same blue pill you took. Food coloring.
Stupid people making stands on opposite sides, opening way for the plans of the man that’s truly in command.
The distraction is the fight. Keep you actively right in their li...
Read More...them. Thus the question rises, whether they’re avoided because of the fear of labels. And it makes no sense. They’ll be avoided because for some reason the delusion dictates that a writer is just a writer and a philosopher is just a philosopher? There’s no trace of where this twisted concept of what a “writer” allegedly is came from. A writer writes.
And I love to theorize on physics.
And I love to create through chemistry.
It’s unknown why the struggle is to shine light on these things. A writer that doesn’t write is no writer. Only fiction gets written. Words which exist only within text and thought. Imaginary constructs with sub-dimensional intelligence navigating those realities. But these things hold no meaning, no purpose. They are intentional creations which assures...
Read MorePhilosophy
Abstract, Thought
Enlightening, Inspiring, Elevating
Beyond Science and Religion
Reality
1. Death, Physical Ejection
2. Narcissism, Reflection, Erection,
3. God, Eye, I
4. Love, Eye, I, Her
5. Hands, Prison, God
6. Time, Always
7. Life, False Representation
Read More...The tiny little lightless block.
Trapped.
Suffocation.
Delusional ghosts lie and accuse of life.
Paranoid imaginary friends with bad advice.
Psychotic reflection, emotionless and cold.
Bipolar tendencies in circles.
Catatonic denial.
Smashed elbows.
Smashed knees.
Smashed shoulders....
...soul, millions of pieces. Meanwhile, the reflection stands, chin high. It observes the nothing where the broken heart once stood.
“You can’t wait to eat who?” It says.
The fragmented person can’t respond.
“You might win out there, but I always win in here.” It sings.
Shreds of body form together and rebuild the original frame, minus its sense of reason. A car without a driver.
The reflection brushes itself off, the body does too...
Read MoreI refuse to finish this or edit it.
Read More...choke and struggle,
Yet, nothing comes out,
And I’m the one stopping myself,
But I don’t know how,
There’s no failure
Don’t quit, don’t fail
Time outruns everything while the blank page rests,
Infuriating interruptions seem countless,
Still, I feel it tingling my skin,
The lights die out,
My hands begin to spill the ink,
It feels like I’m getting somewhere,
I’m delusional here,
And I write,
Scratch it out,
Try the laptop,
Wipe it out,
It’s almost morning and I’m still sitting right here,
And I panic,
And I panic,
But I’m still right here,
Thinking is harder,
And I’m stressing much further,
The doubts questions...
