mrpeterjthomas

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I have 77 stories published in 2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 40299 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

Reflection

I catch a mere reflection, Of myself, in window pane, Should I look upon such sorry sight, I may never look again.

Spoil

As frost bites the new found shoots of green, Poking through dark soil, Will Winter kill all chance of life, Bright blooms too quick to spoil.

Change

Life, when living in a bottle, At times can seem quite strange, I awake, a drink I take, Yet always hope for change.

Thirst-day

As the weekend fast approaches, I reach my hand up high, Raise my favourite wine glass, Then drink my wine goodbye

Olly

Olly was an octopus, He had 8 legs and arms, He gave good hugs, And shoulder shrugs, But juggling was his charm.

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