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.
...must be true
The word must get out
People deserve to know
Spread what’s here now and worry about getting the rest out later
Can’t stay here inactive waiting to hear the facts when someone else is already out there
Fair is only fair and it’s only fair when it’s right here
If it’s not it’s nowhere
There’s nothing else out there
Don’t fall for the nonsense
Be woke like all the others who spoke about things they don’t know
No research needs...
Quaking corruption
Paths of destruction
Disruption of civilized production
Internalized devotion to formalized control schemes in motion
Placing comparison to leadership, embarrassing
Its trolling but the blind don’t see the joke
Or they hope it’s real, but no, its always been the deal
But Big boss is a killer
Quite a sinner
And ultimately the winner
That’s a tall horse
Read More...didn’t stay humble and quickly digressed
Yet, I’ve for whatever reason kept them all close to the chest
As if they’re the best choices to assess the complicated subjects I address
When put to the test objectivity doesn’t present
They’re incapable of this
Speaking to family and friends is like fighting a killer with a dull knife that happens to be just right to keep hacking and hacking, meanwhile there’s no sign of death on sight. And they keep hacking and hacking for the rest of...
Read More...shit get real”
“We men, we don’t run!”
“We die right here!”
The young naïve white boy cop spots these kids
Hot headed and ready to knock someone out of their socks,
But he’s scared he’ll be called a racist bad cop,
And he turns the other cheek,
Refuses to do his job,
Those teens did what they planned to do that day,
But got spotted and followed to their homes,
To their moms,
Where ever they stayed...
...repercussion of my poor choice. A death which could have been avoided easily had I just decided to lead my team out of the battlefield. But I didn’t because of a singular dramatic moment I had with a stranger where I promised him that before my men and I evacuate the battlefield I would come back and rescue him and his family, all whilst knowing how unrealistic it was to assume we’d bring them back just because.
It happened in the middle of a field. He told me, “All I want is to leave and give my family an opportunity.”
And without much thought to the matter, because it sounded...
Read MoreDestruction of the masses by disastrous frenzied bastards.
Leaking and manipulating the scheduled lives of the many classes caught in digital hazardous conditions they’ve had at us.
An intrepid hero who’s never been seen is trapped with their eyes in front of a screen and seamless transitions from visual scenes mean nothing and seem fuzzy, for only illusions could they be.
But a little thought settle not whether we’d know better.
Reality is money hungry and ruthless in its pursuit and as loud mice we must admit when the cat is too big and bury our heads in the granulated wall.
Back ally voices in expensive blue suits discuss paintings. Expensive art with a beating heart. A message for the loyal pets. Reprogramming, behavior must be modified. Feed it, get it on your side and change how it thinks. Even if it means one at a time.
They use the screen we hold.
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...against the restraining forces of gravity cripple. Inhaled gulps of salt are coughed and sneezed at once with half full lungs caught somewhere between an inhale and exhale, cup half empty.
The wobbly discombobulated mirage of the sun sort of shines through, but not really. More like its idea mirages by or superimposes itself over the...
Read More...we went along defending this
Because blue and red
Who the fuck needs thoughts in their head
When Luck is a good boy
And brought Chance to dance
Instead of Reason without a doubt
Because that’s a thug
We could do without
The crap we’re fed
Unbelievable shreds
Proofless evidence
But we follow
Whether or not it makes sense
Because we don’t like “them” or their opinions
Essentially the same nonsense we believe in
Another jackass leading us
Secretly the...
...Slow this chit chat and shoot back!
Unless you want to be dead meats by a couple of deadbeats. ”
“White boy is right. Focus, man, fight back.” Tyrel says and squeezes the trigger
“Like that!”
Across the parking lot members of the opposing gang
Alongside the cops they were exchanging merchandise with
They’re closing in
Tyrel, Antwan and Jonathan retreat
They go from cover to cover
Car to car
Trying to make their way further
But the gunshots don’t stop
They formed a firing line
Thugs and cops
Afraid to be imprisoned for breaking the law.
Little crimes they’ve committed
Pastime they’ve never admitted
They go unforgiven
By those they’ve involved
Those unwilling...
...discussion or argument with how you feel about the subject is incorrect. That doesn’t apply in a scenario with anyone other than yourself. When having a rational fact based discussion, one must always base the argument on the most objective truth possible.
Cutting someone off because you want to be heard makes no sense, unless you’d like to be cut off too and also not be heard which is no different than two people in two different conversations speaking next to each other. A discussion requires two sides willing to hear each other and willing to base the information...
Read More...above the still waveless ocean. Migrating birds with thick feathery wings hunt the schools of fish scattering and jumping from the water. The sun’s fight to the top of the sky illuminates the bubbling ocean surface. It’s as if boiling as the fish attempt to escape whatever comes from below.
The waters bubble more intensely and the fish scatter opening way for the tip of a black pyramid gradually rising. It rises and rises and goes high enough to graze the clouds. At the very bottom of the black pyramid is a gap big enough to fit a person. Before it a path begins to emerge from the water, made of grey stone.
The morning skies become grey and cloudy as a lightning storm forms from a perfect day. Thunder roars and quakes the pyramid and the stone walkway. Pieces break from the walkway and sink to the bottom of the ocean...
Read MoreThe gentle stroke of the keys as grand as the piano they’re played on rang and danced along the walls of the theatre. Papa’s talent was the thief of breaths and master of awe. The pin drop silence of the theatre when he played was something to behold. A moment cherishable with the fondest of memories. A performance which radiated a warm velvet aura riddled with subliminal hypnosis.
It was the loveliest of experiences. It could have only turned out better had you been there with him, Mama.
- From Jane
Read More...though. I’m bored of it. There needs to be a new challenge. I get tired of being able to do things. Where the fuck is that thing I can’t do? Where is this illusive writers block I here so much of? Why isn’t it anywhere I look, yet everyone else seems...
Read More...replaying, when I open my mouth, like a cruel game, I’m told they came out a different way.
The fix is intention. Mention the apprehension of emotional criticism. Isn’t wisdom what’s been missing?
It’s pointless to question the echo on the other side of a mirror when ripples still reflects the sky. But I’m not surprised being it I have to explain why your death to others doesn’t mean you die.
The objective is what should have...
Read MoreA straight stride has proven fruitless and aimless as time makes no difference. Walking for an infinity no longer than a week, starvation begins to sink in. Madness has long since stricken, although the stride has not been affected.
Broken dissolved vocal cords rasp with every breath. Destroyed by the screams held for days with hopes that someone would hear my pleas for mercy, with no avail. A torn bloodied forehead shows white bone bits cracked by my skulls repeated impact against concrete. Fingernails broken off by all the attempts to hatch another.
Debating whether to lay for rest and die as a means of escape from this merciless prison I see a shadow ahead. A dark figure piled into the corner where the wall and…
Read MoreThat across the mirror isn’t me
It mocks me when I say I am
Laughs to my face with a twisted smile and a malicious stare
Both of which I’m sure I don’t display
When eyes watch me they see it as if I don’t exist
And I ask why, I ask how do they see it and not me
So it tells me that I am the reflection
That I am but a mere illusion of the truth across the mirror
It tells me that my entire world is of self-deception and denial
And I refuse to believe its lies when I know that I am
But it’s always watching
With a smirk on its face
Ready for when I look its way
...this world began to form within the text. It wasn’t clear what I was looking at when I began, but as I continued the things written earlier became clearer. And I’d go and I’d make tiny adjustments to keep things consistent throughout the entire text. And these people within the universe I created developed personalities and lives. And as I continued to write they had families and friends. Loved..
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