To give a guess that there are a hundred billion stars in the heavens would most likely be undershooting. A hundred billion dead stars, now, merely light over light years to be viewed from our orbit maybe over shooting. But not knowing for sure leaves you with this: the potential for any possible out come.
We are not complicated creatures honestly.... Although forged by the dust of falling stars we are no beautiful snowflakes all hand crafted a hundred percent removed from all others. No just the opposite in fact. every few generations or so you will see a carbon copy of sorts. a face almost the same as some lost aunt... the voice perhaps of a grandfather. In this same vein the madness or personality failings of someone who shares the blood. The potential is there.
A Hitler in your blood line could rise again... maybe the agenda would be new but the building blocks line up perfect for the same exact possible drive.
The potential is there, always.... It's is in fact called genetic memory. It's why little Pam has great- great grand pops eyes. Why John can sing his heart out with out a lesson.
It's why your kid goes of the rails and goes against everything they have been taught about life and the world and behave like the worst of your blood line... best forgotten...
Potential to paint a masterpiece... write a best seller... give an Oscar worthy performance... compose the next big hit... choreograph the most beautiful dance... get addicted to smack... become a rapist and serial killer... become a hatemonger....
Our nature is on the same switch God has on the Universe itself... and living to your Potential... switching to Kinetic could be positive or negative. Self improvement is facing what is in you and pushing past it. Free will is choosing to channel your potential.
But never forget the monster under the bed... in your closet.... in your head.... very well could be you.
Just a thought...
Anthony S. Thomas
"It was always with in you it will always continue... and it shouldn't surprise you at all. You know."
~Billy Joel
Friday, May 30, 2014
Monday, May 12, 2014
Write what you know...
It has been a very long time since I posted a blog here. The reasons are many... the under riding view I have of this medium is one. I dreamed of writing books as a child... novels, comic books and readable things of the type and or in the same vein,Yet I do this in the and for the generation who is attempting to kill print as I understand it.
Paper between fingertips, the smell of print ink, the ruffle and anticipation of a turned page. Space occupied a shelve protecting finished wood from collecting dust. The other major issues I must admit are that I have been distracted and I have been going through a change or two... metamorphism is a slow and some what consuming action. It is costly and confusion and many time belies logical accurate .
As my Smart Phone puts it while my largish cartoon callused abuse it's touch screen for the answer of how it truly functions: I'm a bit of a Caveman.
Although to date rarely does a luckier Troglodyte lumber the earth. I have the love a beautiful woman in my wife. Smart, strong, health and creative children by the dozen... which oddly is less of an exaggeration than some one who is unaware of me may imagine and extended family and friends who range from the famous, infamous, ultra talented and roguishly mentally questionable reprobates you would ever want to party with.
Still, I put fingers to keys here after all this time for the oldest reason that anyone has ever attempted to tell a tale: Self expression is the orgasm of the soul... and we all need a release of some kind.
I find myself frustrated and confused in a way that the young wild child I was could never have perceived of or dreamed possible. I find myself at the cross roads of more conflicting points of distention that the fact that I'm here to experience it reconfirms my belief in a God of some kind.
The perfectly placed atomic super structure that is the lives of myself and my loved ones set in to orbit just so... Just so as to be all at once the hardest and saddest time of our evolution and the happiest and most prosperous.
My wife and I sit in this house... no this home... that is for once truly is solidly ours from the soil beneath it to the clouds forming above it's well repaired towering chimney. A step closer in our quest to create a legacy for those who bare our names and amalgams of our forms and faces.
Although we do this with the pride befitting of the leap this is in the efforts we put forth the sacrifices we've made. This is perhaps the most separate we have ever been since the beginning of our relationship in this lifetime perhaps since we became whatever the hell we are as two people pair-bounded for life time after life time. This dance we do through good times and bad feels a lot like a sit out. This is not without reason.
We have both come to the point that our individual heath is challenged and changing... in some ways failing us both. I can honestly say for me this has put a tint on my very being that has been profound on who I see myself as today. A man who had excepted his own legend and mythologizes is now forced to see the cracks in the armor that formed and protected him in one of the roughest places in the Continental United States and every where else he dared to venture.
I am an introvert by nature although my charms and arrogance has always served me well in the crowded room... this blow pushed me back to the truest place inside me... my truest nature... I fell back into myself in perhaps many of the ways that count the most and I have been there almost continuously since I came face to face with my mortality.
My wife at the very same time is facing something far harsher than death itself... a crisis of identity. Our near eight year age difference and growing up on opposite faces of the same coin that is the City of Newark, our trails where very different and our approach to our time was different. I was the introvert rushing to cram everything in before my life expectancy. She was the exhibitionist slowed more constrictions and barriers. We fell in love and fell into the live we created with each other and created life together. This a the heart of things was who she became mother... wife... and one day her health took aim at what she truly feels beyond the movies shes done is her life work.
Her illness whispers in her ear your are Mother Nature herself no more. True... rather accurate or not imagine... the artist who may lose his hands. The photographer who may loses his eyes. The writer who has no stories to tell anymore. The singer without a voice.
She is suddenly faced with the question of who she is beyond what she had been all her adult life a creator of life. Then faced with the question indeed and inevitably who she is beyond the titles she have coveted so.
Her condition is an emotional altering one and her questions are just even without the stigma of running high octane. Who is she as a singular human being?
As I emerged from self induced status I as much as said publicly I just wanted the world to stop and hide in the only safe place I truly believed existed... my home which is not a building... my soul mate... my wife... Just as she needed most to begin answer these burning questions.
We are stranded because of this... thus all the hairline imperfections that must exist in every foundation are all glaringly clear... not that they had gone unnoticed before just things seem less magnified.
But that's what happens when you feel or fear or in fact are looking at the sand spiraling the hour glass... magnification. So now the restricted exhibitionist sees the book of her life and realizes
it's been more about the people around her and what she does for them... willingly... heroically and the retrofitted introvert who was always rushing, slowed to a crawl and began trying to root in to the earth that is she. However the sheer weight of this action and the everyday actions or inaction of everyone and everything around has come to her attention under that magnification and it is overwhelming in combination.
Somewhere beneath this mass, the year of shared joy and tragedy and daily struggle lies the woman who doesn't truly know herself outside of it all and the man who in many way is turned in because he has lost some faith. Faith in himself and the structure he has help build on their collective shoulders.
This is one of many of the hard things I must except myself... I have been taken down a peg or two.. and my faith is tested.
As she and I tug-a-war over everything as all couples must do the theme lately has been selfishness and selflessness. A question of perception and predicament seen by two people ravaged by an alter state of being.
The boy who seeks to find himself in the lost girl... the lost girl who needs not to be lost... who knows who the boy is... after all he was found in her.
I asked my wife once what I was without her and the kids. She asked me recently who she was at all.
We are both broken... we are both afraid... we are both searching for something that equals for us as separate people meaning.
How odd that these similar places has been a bit of a wall between us of late. Hopefully our healing will bring us back to a harmony we have enjoyed more often than turbulence we have endured from time to time.
Anthony SAINT Thomas
P.S. I love you baby... when it's easy when it's hard...
Paper between fingertips, the smell of print ink, the ruffle and anticipation of a turned page. Space occupied a shelve protecting finished wood from collecting dust. The other major issues I must admit are that I have been distracted and I have been going through a change or two... metamorphism is a slow and some what consuming action. It is costly and confusion and many time belies logical accurate .
As my Smart Phone puts it while my largish cartoon callused abuse it's touch screen for the answer of how it truly functions: I'm a bit of a Caveman.
Although to date rarely does a luckier Troglodyte lumber the earth. I have the love a beautiful woman in my wife. Smart, strong, health and creative children by the dozen... which oddly is less of an exaggeration than some one who is unaware of me may imagine and extended family and friends who range from the famous, infamous, ultra talented and roguishly mentally questionable reprobates you would ever want to party with.
Still, I put fingers to keys here after all this time for the oldest reason that anyone has ever attempted to tell a tale: Self expression is the orgasm of the soul... and we all need a release of some kind.
I find myself frustrated and confused in a way that the young wild child I was could never have perceived of or dreamed possible. I find myself at the cross roads of more conflicting points of distention that the fact that I'm here to experience it reconfirms my belief in a God of some kind.
The perfectly placed atomic super structure that is the lives of myself and my loved ones set in to orbit just so... Just so as to be all at once the hardest and saddest time of our evolution and the happiest and most prosperous.
My wife and I sit in this house... no this home... that is for once truly is solidly ours from the soil beneath it to the clouds forming above it's well repaired towering chimney. A step closer in our quest to create a legacy for those who bare our names and amalgams of our forms and faces.
Although we do this with the pride befitting of the leap this is in the efforts we put forth the sacrifices we've made. This is perhaps the most separate we have ever been since the beginning of our relationship in this lifetime perhaps since we became whatever the hell we are as two people pair-bounded for life time after life time. This dance we do through good times and bad feels a lot like a sit out. This is not without reason.
We have both come to the point that our individual heath is challenged and changing... in some ways failing us both. I can honestly say for me this has put a tint on my very being that has been profound on who I see myself as today. A man who had excepted his own legend and mythologizes is now forced to see the cracks in the armor that formed and protected him in one of the roughest places in the Continental United States and every where else he dared to venture.
I am an introvert by nature although my charms and arrogance has always served me well in the crowded room... this blow pushed me back to the truest place inside me... my truest nature... I fell back into myself in perhaps many of the ways that count the most and I have been there almost continuously since I came face to face with my mortality.
My wife at the very same time is facing something far harsher than death itself... a crisis of identity. Our near eight year age difference and growing up on opposite faces of the same coin that is the City of Newark, our trails where very different and our approach to our time was different. I was the introvert rushing to cram everything in before my life expectancy. She was the exhibitionist slowed more constrictions and barriers. We fell in love and fell into the live we created with each other and created life together. This a the heart of things was who she became mother... wife... and one day her health took aim at what she truly feels beyond the movies shes done is her life work.
Her illness whispers in her ear your are Mother Nature herself no more. True... rather accurate or not imagine... the artist who may lose his hands. The photographer who may loses his eyes. The writer who has no stories to tell anymore. The singer without a voice.
She is suddenly faced with the question of who she is beyond what she had been all her adult life a creator of life. Then faced with the question indeed and inevitably who she is beyond the titles she have coveted so.
Her condition is an emotional altering one and her questions are just even without the stigma of running high octane. Who is she as a singular human being?
As I emerged from self induced status I as much as said publicly I just wanted the world to stop and hide in the only safe place I truly believed existed... my home which is not a building... my soul mate... my wife... Just as she needed most to begin answer these burning questions.
We are stranded because of this... thus all the hairline imperfections that must exist in every foundation are all glaringly clear... not that they had gone unnoticed before just things seem less magnified.
But that's what happens when you feel or fear or in fact are looking at the sand spiraling the hour glass... magnification. So now the restricted exhibitionist sees the book of her life and realizes
it's been more about the people around her and what she does for them... willingly... heroically and the retrofitted introvert who was always rushing, slowed to a crawl and began trying to root in to the earth that is she. However the sheer weight of this action and the everyday actions or inaction of everyone and everything around has come to her attention under that magnification and it is overwhelming in combination.
Somewhere beneath this mass, the year of shared joy and tragedy and daily struggle lies the woman who doesn't truly know herself outside of it all and the man who in many way is turned in because he has lost some faith. Faith in himself and the structure he has help build on their collective shoulders.
This is one of many of the hard things I must except myself... I have been taken down a peg or two.. and my faith is tested.
As she and I tug-a-war over everything as all couples must do the theme lately has been selfishness and selflessness. A question of perception and predicament seen by two people ravaged by an alter state of being.
The boy who seeks to find himself in the lost girl... the lost girl who needs not to be lost... who knows who the boy is... after all he was found in her.
I asked my wife once what I was without her and the kids. She asked me recently who she was at all.
We are both broken... we are both afraid... we are both searching for something that equals for us as separate people meaning.
How odd that these similar places has been a bit of a wall between us of late. Hopefully our healing will bring us back to a harmony we have enjoyed more often than turbulence we have endured from time to time.
Anthony SAINT Thomas
P.S. I love you baby... when it's easy when it's hard...
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