mrpeterjthomas

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I have 77 stories published in 2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 40296 times and one story has been cherrypicked.

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Peter J Thomas

I started to blog, with the prompting of a friend, as I often found myself with nothing to say in company, whilst full of ideas and thoughts when I was on my own. It became, and still is, difficult to communicate verbally with society and therefore I found myself with no outlet for my ideas, thoughts and moreover my personality. I guess I was frightened what people would say. It is a fear that is crippling.

I decided to write things down as there are only so many conversations you can have with yourself before becoming sick of the sound of your own voice. This is true even when you do different accents....

These words stare into my very existence, they demonstrate what I would describe as my ridiculously dizzy and dark sense of humour. I flit between the two as my timeline may demonstrate. I take very little time to create my posts, they are a snapshot of what I think at that moment, before my stimuli seeking mind is off again, whirring like an uncontrollable pigeon in a hurricane.

Primarily I am just daft and dizzy, it is however something I have hidden away from the World, well most of the World, until now.

I dream of happiness, and want nothing more for anyone than the ability to feel that warmth within. I think if I can help in any way with that, then I am doing ok. If I can help others, I will ultimately help myself. Giving joy and laughter is fab. One day, somebody may give some back to me.

I suffer in the shadow of despair, but deep down I know that there is no shadow cast without the light and warmth from the sun.

My stories

Nice, not nice

Strange how good news sometimes can still cut you at the knee, When even things you want to hear cause some difficulty

More

Didn't see it coming, Struck down to the floor, But in life you keep on going, And coming back for more.

Hidden

Not noticed on inspection, Nor found on careful looks, No telltale signs apparent, Nothing read in books, No plaster can repair it, The scars and...

junk

Leech drawn, Blood drunk, My life, Old junk.

Realize

And as I came to realize, What I knew, a strange surprise, The truth was just before my eyes, Not all live, but always dies.

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