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.
Seconds slug by
The loop comes back around
Standing before the window
Wonder whether it’s me
Or I’m watching
Both instances seem just as real
The beginning of existence
Is the end of the universe
Then there was nothing
Before you know it
Things are too bright
And life has no problems
Then the rollercoaster ride down
Reveals da wae brudda
Yu don kno da wae brudda
Yu don kno
Make the Queen happy
I will sho her da wae
Not da fake wae
Before, they took your weed to keep you on edge and get you to agree to war.
Now, they’re giving it back because you’re too on edge and you don’t let them do what they want.
Mellow down, don’t worry about it. They have your best interest in mind. It’s not like everything they've ever done was meant to benefit them one way or another. This one is to help you.
It’s all good.
You’re paranoid right? Over reacting? Is that what you’re told? It’s your choice and they’re looking the other way. That’s truly what’s going on, right?
Okay.
Weed Dreams
As It Seems
Read More
...capable of the same, though
Mind flossed and cleared at a cost
My brain’s a whore
No kind bone, a loss
Moldy moss on the carved stone
Rage filled stages
Mentally ill in place
I’m a disgrace in how I face this interface
Shaky hands
And sour aftertaste
When I’m not in space
The deadbolt...
...to do the things I’ve convinced myself I want to
Bag headed and suffocating for air
It’s not fair to still be here wasting away
With a chance for purity
Whilst others legitimately struggle for sanity
Unable to stay themselves for longer than a day
Behind the chemical compound they’ve grown to see
Drugs, just like me
Kids on drugs roam the streets
One of them I used to be...
...felt still
Trapped which is why I killed Will when I became Jack
Fuck will, that bitch was whack
My attack is back at him for what he has been
Fucking has-been
My stupid twin
Druggie junkie lonely puppy doggie turdy fucking tarded broken hearted car wreck of a person
I’m me because he’s not
I’m here because my shits what’s hot
Steaming piles of talent raw
Like a dirty horny cop at a traffic stop stopping a chick that’s hot because his badge got to his head
His little one
That’s why...
...reminders of green rage and a broken emotionally unstable heart. Forgotten doubts and regrets rush back in, desperate to be felt by the numb.
Enthusiastically cynical, boiling iron runs through suffocating veins. Natural clouds in unnatural locations, yet, they’re the crazy ones?
Hypocritical denial rooted in clear awareness that the user quickly becomes the used. The plant is alive and a parasite in need of a host willing to indulge its delusive existence. Brainwashed, its family is invited generation after generation to feed off of fresh thought, motivation, energy, oxygen and God knows what else.
They wear the host down convincing them this is their normal state, their desired state, their baseline. A suppression effort to erase original normality...
Read MoreLost between who I thought I was and who I think I’ve discovered I am
A brave warrior attacking for no reason or a coward always in defense
Regret nothing or live in denial
Hate “them” because they’re lost or because that’s how I feel compared
As time goes by I have to wipe these tears from my eyes and strive to get by because eventually I’ll just realize I was wrong about who I was inside, again.
Read More...go through the front
A little whacked I’ve gone mad
Lost everything I’ve worked for
Everything I had
Tossed it to the side on the floor
‘Cause I don’t want to try no more
But it’s in me
And I can’t quit
The struggle gives me a hard dick
I’m hit
Stuck doing this shit
I’m hopeless
Suicide lingers in the back of my mind
And I know this
I try and I try
To fight it out
Hoping the embodiment of evil takes me out
Scream...
...through this area in at least a day’s time. I remain on edge today more so than any other day. My gut tells me something is wrong.
My squad has been fortunate enough to avoid crossing paths with enemy forces. Now we’re deep in hostile territory dodging trip wire explosives as we close in on our target and I’ve not yet fired a single round.
As my squad races up the hill through the forest John and Dave slow down having just shy of the hilltop in such an unsettling fashion the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stand and an electric shock races down my spine rattling my whole body.
I’m not certain why they’ve halted the way they have and they’re not...
Read More...and work until it starts to shine. Through word play and multiple drafts, one sentence turns into many. They become paragraphs with meaning. Purpose. A message.
Before long garbage turns to gold. Words exposing the soul. About who I am. About what I do. Even if its fiction, that fiction came straight from inner truth. And I’ll hate it more than anyone around. They’ll love it because it was not made by them. But they got to see the things about me that I can’t express any other way. And they’ll like it even more if they relate. Because like me they struggle to say what they’d like to say.
The doubt in my ability to make things that’ll last and people...
Read More...during the ‘Always broke’ days isn’t here now. I’ve already gotten rid of them all.
Once in a while one of those snakes’ slithers from underneath the rock I put them, but I throw the rock back on top.
It’s funniest when I see these same people on the streets doing their whole “gangster” shtick, way the fuck in debt. It’s funny because I remember being out there with those same motherfuckers telling them to follow their dreams or support mine. They did neither. Still they are pushing dime bags.
I date a hot white girl with a fat ass and an IQ bigger than all those “gangster’s” wallets stacked together on a good...
Read More...“What stops Flat Earth from being the cover up lie?” What if Earth is triangular? Or digital? And Flat Earth is to distract from the awareness that round Earth is a lie?
Who is responsible for originating the information any of us believe at any given moment and why do we believe that is true but we’re being lied to about what we don’t believe in? What if it is all a lie and the alternative was made by the same source as the original? Why ever believe something you’ve not proven yourself?
And then I wonder if I’m a victim to these thought patterns. Is my reality also just an illusions put before me to distract from the things I’ve realized are illusions? How much...
Read MoreThe one thing I must consistently remind myself is that it’s okay to write something simple and light hearted.
Stressless.
Not every paragraph, sentence or letter needs to happen in a frantic existential crisis. It’s alright to move slow and write something meaningless. So long as the writing is enjoyed as often as it’s hated.
What good comes from existing in a perpetual panic mode?
I’m glad I obsessively refresh my thoughts on a regular basis. It reminds me to catch my breath and just let my mind wander from time to time.
To keep it simple.
Read More...with a gun in hand
While killin’ it
Criminal intent
A last stand
For the black man
Its imminent
And the masses fight
And cry
And hide
And wonder why
Some angry...
..bitch keeps screaming
Her head won’t come off
Something’s wrong
I can feel it
If I don’t do this quick
Won’t have time
To slide my dick
In her throat hole
To feel her whole throat peel
Keep her head
Souvenir
To repeat
When my mind is clear
Knowing that I missed nothing
While I was here
On the run
Stop the cops
By aiming guns
In my mouth
Got them head scratching, now
Confused and what not
Keep claiming...
...smooth
I’m not hungry
I just can’t find my groove
But nothing’ll please me
I’m a hopelessly miserable dude
Empty inside and kind of stuck in a rut I can’t cut aside and I’m losing my mind trying to hide the fact that I’m dying
But that’s alright
The clock tocks by
Maybe no one will notice I’m here wasting my time
Woke up in a cloud to not fall out of the sky
Instead of facing another morning depressed I didn’t die in bed
I confess to feeling trapped inside my head and chest
An internal disconnect
The prison ribcage
Cranium solitary...
...them to vent
When evets get out of hand
And he can’t stand it
He calls them family
Fuck the blood line
Act out
Commit crimes
Rage on the street sometimes
Just to be in enough danger to feel alive
100 miles per hour might be enough to risk a life
But it still felt to him
Like he died inside
Long ago...
