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.
We're different versions of ourselves all the time
With each interaction we learn and change
Every second we grow and age
Who we think we are is just a stage to host new plays from day to day
Leaving us to wonder where our newest thunder reigns best
With identity being no more than a strange confusing mess
A test we go through in exchange for refusing death
To see what else is left during life's strive and struggle stepping towards our final breath
Although we are not orange juice, we are all orange juice.
In fact, we are all both individual cups of orange juice and the same cup of orange juice.
The global orange juice, if I may.
A perfect stream of orange juice.
We feel as though we are also the glass surrounding the orange juice.
As though the delicious nutritious nature of the…
Read MoreTragic hopelessness
Habits smoked to chest
Rabid ropes strung necks
Maddened corpse rung best
Havoc strokes digress
Methodical plan by the deranged
Prodigal hand of the…
Light sleight of hand
Time bombs hide behind palms
Dark tones behind iron heights
Wrong rights from twisted lines of sight
Fearful the tie makes cheerful and high
Chains tearful to die
Grains leak paper crimes
Quite bleak bills stacked high Empires rise
Why? They cry and stand by
Built entire towers to ride shy
Setting ants on fire to stop the hill
Who the fuck are we to let it happen?
Who the fuck are they to try?
I’m here in front of Saint Micheals Medical Center where police are currently investigating what has been referred to by authorities as rabid cannibalism. Yes, you heard right.
Early this morning, at 4:15am, a patient suffering from an unknown terminal illness left their intensive care room and attacked nurse on duty, Samantha Rice. Reports say the patient, male, name not yet revealed, tackled the nurse to the ground and repeatedly bit at the nurse, tearing through flesh and meat and ripping off entire chunks only to chew them and swallow them as though…
Read MoreDry ink hangs over the page dangling frozen at the tip of a pen. The paper yellows with age. Blank with doubt and uninspired hopelessness. Waiting. Just waiting for the idle hand to sway with originality and scribble with aimless joy, but it all remains static and still.
Although, the air feels desperate the clock is patient as its afternoon smile shifts to a late night frown.
Floorboards creak and thump at pacing boots like a secret killer quietly stalking prey in a cabin. This cabin is nowhere near as eventful.
Endlessly searching for direction, the haunting apparition hovers over the imaginary world with tragic sorrow filled eyes. Hollow and tearfully fixed on the emptiness.
Bloodless pale, regretful and depressive, hatred consume the spirit and ignites strong sentiment. Like an ever growing void of inescapable speed and magnitude. The fear of being incomplete and fragmented crippled and killed the host, but nature demands invention..
Read MoreLast year on this very day I wrote a short piece about my intentions for when I’m 30 years of age. This is an update on my mental state and where I stand relative to it.
I’ll begin by explaining that my intentions…
Read MoreStuck fightin’ in rough lightin’
Fuck tryin’, I’m done hidin’
All that’s left is thinkin’ quick, no subsidin’
Move like lightnin’ while strikin’
I’m above but grounded
Be frightened
My roll and rumble are well rounded
Crumble the walls surroundin’
I make the black clouds mad loud and highlight the background brightly
Cold cause I don’t stop the rain’s gain and pace reigns
Gotta be sick when I spit quick phlegm talkin’ shit bricks at glass houses…
Read MoreThe Raged Cattle
It Casts a Hate Shadow
Inside the Cage, Rattled
Awaits a Great Battle
Piercing eyes forced
Through blackened hearts torn
Twisting steel Born
With angered horns
Real, their shiny sharpened tips
Slicing, poking, making rips
Blind by red the blood lust drips
Freed, this slave just waits and sits
The stench of rotted flesh and sweat strong enough to be used as elephant tranquilizer wake me. The eye opening knockout gas.
It’s nearly pitch black less for the horizontal slit of orange flickering light across from me. Shadows walk through the flickering light and faint voices whisper about. Laughter from children and women off in the distance. My eyes adjust to the room I’m in. I get up. My feet slap bare on the cold floor and I head for the source of the light to be met by a door. My ear against it I hear the the other side with more clarity.
“That’s check mate, mate. Guess that means I’m the better man after all!”
“That was luck. I got distracted. Best two out of three.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, mate. Take your loss like a champ and give the next person a chance to lose to the master.”
They sound like normal people.
I feel around for the doorknob and twist. Through to the other side it opens to the hallway of an abandoned hospital. Candle lit far down the sight line until it’s swallowed again by the black void somewhere off in the distance. More people packed into this one hall than I’ve seen in months. The place turned its attention to me and sank into complete silence.
“Guess he’s not dead,” one of the men at the chess table says.
A woman walks over with a tray of food. Cooked canned…
Read MoreBlinding, the light splashes into my eyes. A anomalous contorted shadow stands before it staring down at me. Tired and hungry I’m too weak to move or respond in any way. This could be the last thing I ever see.
It’s distorted voices calls out to me, “ahh huu ahhayyy.” I can’t make out a word. “ahh huu ahhayyy,” it repeats.
As my eyes adjust the figure gains more shape and definition. Arms. A head. A body.
“Are huu ahhayyy,” it repeats. “Ehooo!”
The deafening ringing in my ears starts to fade.
“Are you okay?”
Words start to…
Read MoreHuman nature is a monster of hate for creatures of a different face or to ideas that don't match their taste. Fake the stand on moral grounds but steal, pillage and destroy as we make our rounds limiting all others but refusing to be bound. The second the gun aims back humans make no sound. Deep breaths and reflection searching for a truth much more profound until the finger is no longer pointing then the fires get set to watch the forest burn down. Humans don't regret. They pretend. Human nature is drowned in malice with a smile masking it held proud.
Read MoreFull of excuses, got myself thinkin’ I’m useless
Distractions are ruthless, a nuisance
Inaction so fluid, can’t help but sink in to it
Titanic demons keep screamin’, they fiendin’, dreamin’
Monstrous titans wagin’ war, done this before
Deamed victors seepin’ through the cracks beneath the door
Came through the back whisperin’ “Jack we want more”
Like shadows slidin’ ridin’ gaps in light and hidin’ in the dead of night
They’re fightin’ tryin’ to stay alive inside…
Dark place with the glock aimed
Ain’t a tame thought in the way
Faced lead shots, taste great
Sippin’ at the glass filled with 9s I feel I might blast
Trippin’ thinkin’ this moment is the last
Chill, it ain’t a crime to feel bad
But it’s like I’ve had more than enough time to go mad
A rough road and grip slippin’ on the cut rope
Stuck hope wishing, can’t cope
If I go missin’ no one’ll know, the Earth won’t stop its roll
This ain’t a new feelin’
You’re just dealing with repressed demons
They’re creepin’, keep seepin’ through the crack peekin’
Speakin’ to the your inner thoughts and your dreams that they haunt
Intentions to freak you out when from the shadows they scream and shout
Drought of the good days, dark thoughts replay
They’ve plotted out what they’ll say and anticipate how you’ll behave
It’s rouse, the truth is that good news lies at the end of the tunnel
The struggle leads through a path of rubble
A mountain and a climb, fighting evil the whole time
Harpies and vultures, from time to time a poacher
Although I’ve never dealt with writers block, I do occasionally feel uninterested in what I create or creating in general. Creators depression if you will. When each word to land on the page feels empty and foreign. As if it fails to convey the intended message or emotion. Like trying to read a page through fog. Clarity is missing.
It’s times like these where thoughts feel hazy. When it’s least obvious what’s missing from the work is when it’s the most frustrating. The satisfaction of finding a hundred problems each sentence comes with the knowledge that you can jump in and fix it all. This is more like trying to…
Read MoreTragic the monotone hum, every five minutes like clockwork.
Distant souls roam going about their moments in the world below. Detached window view of time passing.
Loose tie and suit jacket off. Corner office. Total and complete success. I’ve succeeded my way right into a box. Removed from the social sphere and begging god to fling an asteroid my way and not warn me.
Five minute mark, the scanner hums and I’m ticking away at the keys. Clicking and scrolling and typing and scanning.
Ambient chit chat somewhere off in the pit of the building keeps the atmosphere just above silent.
Working but nowhere near present. Dreaming at the florescent bulbs more powerful than the sunlight that beams through the window. Trees and birds, likely not much farther than the ones directly outside. Reality is only revisited when looking to see what number the little hand points at.
Making green to let strangers more clever than I hoard it in a private bank to avoid it getting stolen by anyone other than the owner of the bank. I pay for that individual to have the exclusive rights to use my money how they want while I wait for 5pm. Pay for their vacations and their hookers while I sift through spread sheets. Twelve hour work days to assure someone will have zero hour work weeks.
At least my watch is more expensive than the entire common household annual income. Nothing but the freedom to stare at my wrist and realize I’ve only begun the day.
Read MorePatience is Key
Understanding could only be achieved if we decide to hear one another
If we learn to tolerate in order to listen and comprehend
To label one another without getting to know one another is the road to divisiveness
We’re more similar than we are different
Still we choose to discuss only how “they” are not like “us”
As arbitrary and trivial as these ideas are they seem to rule our daily interactions
We force people to hide their differences and then hide in fear from those we don’t know
But because everyone hides their true selves out of fear of being judged, we know no one
Thus, we fear everyone
A self fulfilling prophecy that perpetuates hate and could only be stopped by its creators
We preach unity but practice division
Read MoreTotal lack of excitement. Routine. Tame repetition. Mundane. Boring. Cyclical and maddening. A total lack of adrenaline faces the savage animal when caged. A stick static stillness which loops back onto itself settles in as is paces along the inner walls of its prison. Aimless it hungers for a chase. Whether hunter or prey. For some change or alternation. For the new and the original.
Read MoreSlave to this trade that I play. Its my crave. Truth is made. Madness, plagued. Tragic ways. The pen to page releases rage. Increase brain waves. Creative days from dark displays. Incetive chase. A heart cab race as dreams behave like tales well aimed at reflective states. As the mind gets clear the joy is raised.
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