If sights would help us live, we’d see worlds
Hello all. I'm working on several projects lately; things I'm quite excited about actually. I have a new novel I'm brainstorming about with my uncle Mike and brother Jacob. It's a zombie book that follows a 17ish year-old boy as he tries to find a reason and a way to survive his small town in Southern Oklahoma being overrun by zombies. He's pretty much the only one left in town that's alive. Another thing is my other novel that has been in the works for quite some time-it's about immortal spirit warrior guys... yeah. The zombie book is called Pure Water for right now and the other novel is called Spirit of the Lost and I have several sequels planned out for SotL.
A tattered life lived alone
I've been living in a lie
Like looking both ways on a one way street
Impatience is a virtue for those who've waited too long
Tell me of love, of pain, of suffering
I breathe in the smoke. I walk in the fog. The battle has ended. Confusion is the victor. I stumble around with ringing in my ears. The bodies of my fellow soldiers lie around my feet. Forget trying to connect the moments past, the bombs broke them far beyond repair. History for me is reshaped. Maybe the earth’s history as a whole is shaken by a single gunshot. The structure of my life will never be the same.I’ve walked miles now. Still lost in this field of pain. Still lost in the thoughts that are in me. I now know the ringing came from my thoughts, not the bombs around. The pistol feels molded to my hand. My grip is loose and lifeless yet the gun does not fall. The weapon is a part of me, or am I a part of it? I don’t know anymore; it’s been too many years. The consistency breaks when I enter the trees. Soldiers are running towards the field I have left. They are where I can’t see, only where I can hear. My heart sinks as I know what fate they are falling into. But I still can’t stop moving towards something else, something I do not know, something that draws me stronger and yet weaker than anything that has ever touched me before. I forget the pains inside my head. I walk into the light inside. The war has touched me in a most oddly freeing way.
I am Beckard Thomas and I am a warrior. I have long forgotten what side I fight for; I now only follow orders blindly. My gun fires with the deadliest of accuracy. Through my obedience and superb fighting skills I have acquired one of the highest ranks a foot soldier in this war machine can hold. This accomplishment is something I am neither proud of nor care about. My hands have taken lives far surpassing any number I would dare count… yet I don’t stop. I still follow orders. Or I should say I did follow orders. Now I walk. I only walk; it’s me alone with my metal hand of death by my side… and the staff. I didn’t remember it being there, my memory had long since lost its credibility to me and in turn it had lowered itself down to an almost unusable level. The staff was merely noticed by me when I leaned up against a tree and felt it pressing against my back as if to say “I’ll annoy you until you remember me.” I did remember some things about my past but they only came to me when I focused most of my energy on recalling those events. And still there were some parts of my life that I have never fully seen and some parts I don’t want to see.
Who am I? Am I Beckard Thomas? What was I before? During this war I had time to forget all that I was. I left my vague and jaded memory to rust in rest while I killed the memories of others. I let all the moments blur into a black haze in my mind. I had nearly forgotten how to recall them when my gasping mind reminded me.
I've thought on love and how it works, what it is. To me love can hardly be explained with intent. For me, the clarity of love comes through in a moment where I let myself go. The connection is made with no effort. Love is something elusive and amazing. Love is natural and unattempted. Love makes us feel alive. Love is a fire that burns our emotions and lets us know there is more out there than caring for ourselves. We love in the hopes that we are loved; in the hopes that we can be recognized as worthy of such an overwhelming and passionate feeling. Love is selfish. Love wants everything for itself; it wants all to be under its blanket of fire. I feel that for this reason, when two people find such a power as love between each other, they truly become one. Love binds us to another soul showing us that we are not animals; showing us that we are humans and showing us how much farther we can go than mere humanity. Love is everlasting and holy. Love is amazing and destructive. Love is kind and patient. Love is the universe created for the most cherished creation. Love breaks us into imperfect pieces only to meld us into unison with that other magnificently imperfect being that completes us. It brings us to a perfection lost in the human eye; a perfection seen only by the heart.
My pup has grown quite a bit. Looking back at that other pic, he seems so gangly and not totally grown into his ears. Now his face has filled out and he looks much more awesome. I've been living quite nicely these past few months. No particular things come to mind to speak of.
I realize that this entry is a little scattered but that's how I think, in a scattered way.
