mrpeterjthomas

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I have 77 stories published in 2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 40297 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

This Way

I cannot face tomorrow, Nor can I live today, Something has to change soon, I can't go on this way.

History

Tulips standing tall and proud, Of colours different to the crowd, I wonder what I'm going to see, When the tulips time is history.

Bulbous-Bee

The bumblebee it takes to wing, A buzz, a leap and flight, But how can the bulbous bumblebee Fly, it seems not right.
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One

To kiss the early morning sun, The promise of a day so fun, One that has only begun, To share with you, the day, as one

Charmed

The sickened sight of death befalls, Catching each alarmed, Yet in the turmoil of excess, We all are grotesquely charmed.

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