The Fall by Thadd Presley

The Fall

 

by Thadd Presley

He glanced over the edge, not knowing that below
his emptiness was the truth. He’d always been alone.
He looked across the desert trying to imagine his fall.
The beautiful, blue horizon reminded him that love wasn’t all.
Many times over the last year, when love came near
he embraced the future, saying he could face all of his fears
about coming out and letting his family know
tell them who he wanted to love, so he could let his love be shown.
He’s already heard the hurtful words. They all cut deep, to the bone.
How could tear his family apart and destroy his childhood home?
Feelings of loss, betrayal, remorse, and disgust
were made worse by the thoughts of abandonment and distrust.

How? – he asked himself. How could you do this to them?
They love you!! God, you’re nothing but filthy fucking trash.
This selfishness will ruin everything you touch,
and turn your families life into dust and ash.

They all see through you! It’s obvious what you are.
Why would they be surprised to hear it repeated in your voice?
They’ve said it themselves.  “He’s always been a blip on my Gaydar.”
“God didn’t make him a fag, being that way is his own choice.”

His uncle told his dad on his eleventh Christmas. “He’s a damn fancy boy.”
An Ass-tronant, a Butt-Pirate, a Bum-hole Engineer,
A Fudge packer, a stinking cockstar, I bet you’re really embarrassed by him.
A Fairy, a flamer, for a son. You know his momma turned him queer.

He’s a limp wristed, Jobby Jabber, a butt rustling-shit stabber
A girly boy, Nancy Man, fancy-pants, Cock-struction worker
A Browine King, Anus Assassin,and faggot ass dick grabber
Even his Dad called him a shit smelling Goober Jerker.

His mother found out on her own.
There  was nothing to hide. He couldn’t have lied if I tried.
His mother had knew since day one.
But when he admitted it,  she actually looked surprised.

We are through with you, she said, but you know I love you.
I want you to be happy, son, but going against God and nature is not the way
You’re dad doesn’t want you here anymore!
He’s tried for so long, but his heart, you know We can’t make that mistake!

And now you want to turn me away?
You’d really turn me out?
You’ve known this longer than anyone.
I thought I could count on you to help them love me.
But it’s too late. Everything has wilted and gone dreadfully wrong.
I never wanted this sadness to come bacl, but the end has come and gone past.
Love has no end, but how long can hate last?

He glanced over the edge, not knowing that below
his emptiness was the truth. He’d always been alone.
He looked across the desert trying to imagine his fall.
The beautiful, blue horizon reminded him that love wasn’t all.

 

Helping Others

The Art and Magic of Helping Others

by Thadd Presley

Why do we do things for others? Why bother? Our hearts tell us to puts others first, but it often doesn’t make sense to us on the surface. I’d like to know the answer to many of these questions, but one of them comes ahead of all the rest: why do we desire to put ourselves last? It just seems backward to let others go first. Why do we say “yes” when we want to say “no?” Doesn’t it make more sense to help ourselves and allow others to benefit from the wealth, health, and knowlegde we aquire afterwards? It might seem that way but that’s not the way the universe words.

The universe? What does that have to do with anything?
The universe is everything out there and we are stuck down here.

What if I told you that we can have anything we want, but we have to ask for it?
Seem like magic? I know, it does.
And that is exactly what it looks like when it happens.
The easiest way for me to explain it is like this: the more help you give someone else, the more power and influence you will have over the infinite resources of the universe.
I know that sounds like a fairy-tale and many people have not witnessed this amazing miracle in their lives, but it is true and it happens all of the time to ordinary people just like me.
I am living proof that this concept pays off quickly and unfailingly. I am a walking-talking billboard of generosity that comes from the magical, fantastical universe.

There are times I talk with my friends about “asking the universe” for what you want. It never fails to intrigue them and I can see the doubt in their eyes. But they listen because they want it to be true so bad.
It often amazes when what I’m telling them begins to happen. Not eventually, but usually very quickly. If the magic does not happen immediately, it’s within that day or at most the next. It’s just a fact of the universe, I tell them, and together we are absolutely amazed. No matter how or when it happens, whoever I’m sharing my “magic” with is there to witness it and they become endowed with the gift as well.

They always had the power to ask the universe, but they didn’t believe it would ever work for them. They lacked faith. All the stories through out history of miracles, magicians, and even Jesus wasn’t enough to give them the faith to try it. But, seeing it happen one time pushed them over the threshold into a new world. In to a world where they are creators as well as the created.

You think none of this can be true, right?. That there’s no way the universe just give people the things they ask for. You might think that for many reasons, but one of the biggest seeds of doubt is myself (the writer of this post.) You might doubt because I’m not super wealthy or wildly successful person. In fact, you’ve probably never heard of me and until now never read a word I’ve written. If that is true, then I’m very happy you are still reading this and I have a lot of work to do.

What if I told you I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do and I have more than enough money than I need? Would you think that’s a miracle all by itself? If not, I want to share a few of the things I did. I’m not bragging, I’m only documenting.

Things I’ve done that most people won’t get to:

toured as a bass player in a rock and roll band
opened for a world famous band
met famous rock stars from America and Europe
worked with famous people
published several books (fiction and poetry)
recorded a great album with a rock band
recorded a solo album
currently publishing a fiction blog
work for myself writing fiction and other things
traveled the United States and a bit of Canada,
met a woman at 23 who still loves me and I love her,
live in a great place with a great view from the porch
found an endless supply of freedom and love

I could go on but I don’t want this to be about what I have, but instead about doing for others.

I have a huge problem saying NO. I just can’t do it. More often than not, I put other people before myself and my own needs.Yeah, you can probably understand how I came to write this and that putting myself last begins to get old. All of this is largely my fault.

I don’t have to say YES, YES, YES to everyone and constantly create scenarios where I feel used. Instead, very recently, I have realized that I have to say YES to myself sometimes. This will allow me to be in a better place when it comes time to help others.

You see what happened there?

I am putting myself first, but it’s for others. It’s not a selfish desire to want to help myself. It’s not selfish to want things. By putting myself ahead of another person, especially when it’s done in the interest of helping them, will demonstrate (to myself and them) that I am useful and important.

Helping others demonstrates my strength and knowledge of the world around me and it shows my respect for the universe that gives me the strength and resources in the first place. If I give my time and talent the respect it deserves, then people around me will begin to see that my help is a gift. It is not only given freely, but it is efficient and powerful.

More than anything, by helping others, I will see myself as a needed part in, not only my own life, but in the existence of others. If I allow myself to be run down and used to the point of being useless, then I’ll lose confidence in my own ability and begin to doubt myself. At that point, I won’t be able to help anyone or myself.

Murder To Save A Friend (part1)

Murder to Save A Friend
(part 1)

Everything about this situation looks so plain and simple from my point of view. John needs to see it for himself, not that it matter’s who tells him, only that he finds out before it’s to late. It’s true that I see things from my own perspective which comes with a certain light that most people are blind to, but it is illuminating and many people, including my friend John, would benefit from it’s intensity, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying he has ever listened to me. He rarely takes my advice, in fact, usually going in the direction I least favor, causing hardship on himself and those who love him.

The situation is so clear and easy, as I see it, but I know I can’t  bring the subject up to John directly. I shall have to leave the task, this minor act of discretion, to my butler, a man we both adore, who is cunning and knowing, and will slip my words into John’s ear without even a hint of force or embarrassment. To say Hamish knows people would be an underestimation of his agreeable talents, to say he knows exactly the right words to use in every circumstance would be a direct hit on his powers. He is a worldly, faithful servant, not because he needs to be, because he wants to be, and he has raised me from a colicky babe into the gentleman and friend I have become today.

John loves and respects Hamish as much as I do. As my constant companion through childhood and business partner in adulthood, we have both drank from the same trough of learning, which was constantly replenished from Hamish’s well of knowledge and wisdom. As close as brothers, we’ve been through thick and thin together, and we’ve never had a bad word between us. That is, until recently.

So, it shall be Hamish who sets into motion the only possible solution to John’s miserable existence, which is to murder John’s wife and liberate my dear friend from the hell he has been subject to these last six months. Even though, as easy as it shall be, I know John will suspect me and fight tooth and nail to bring me to justice. So, to remove suspicion from myself I set my plan into motion a fortnight ago by inviting John and his wife to dinner by way of telegram while they were away in Knoxville.

Of course, they received the telegram and accepted the invitation. John replied with happy sentiments, admitting that after a week of being away with his wife he was looking forward to Hamish’s cooking, writing that she destroyed a pot of Premium Oatmeal by arguing with him instead of watching the breakfast. And while John knows that his life with Rosa is not perfect, what he doesn’t realize is that it will only get worse.
So, because of my vision and from an act of love for my best friend, I have arranged an “emergency” to befall us on the road at precisely 4:45, while we are on our way from the offices to my house for dinner. A robbery will take place that will once and for all remove Rosa from John’s life.

The death will look accidental. I am sure no one will be the wiser once the excitement is over and she is found. To further confuse matters, I have elected myself to become wounded in the performance as well. I believe it will lend an air of reality to an otherwise fake event. My wounds will not be life threatening, I hope, but should be enough to remove all possible accusations from myself and place them on the thieves.

I realize that someone might look at my scheme and think I’m only being a jealous friend who has lost his playmate and will do anything to get him back, but it would be wrong to assume that. If only it possible to see what I see, why that person would volunteer for a part in my production, possibly even maneuver themselves into the position to pull the trigger and set John free by their own hand.

It is hard for me to look upon tonight without some feelings of guilt because it would not have come to this if I would have spoke up in the beginning. If only I had John’s ear and knew how to explain myself, I know I could have saved John and Rosa. But, it is too late now and to say that I knew what was awaiting John the moment we met Rosa is only admitting that I did nothing to stop it.

Frequency Shift: A Metaphysical Exchance (part 4)

Frequency Shift:
A Metaphysical Exchance
(part 4)

Magic and Miracles follow me everywhere I go. You can ask around if you don’t believe me. I’m am using the Alchemist in me to create new things. Life is an adventure designed to teach us all how to turn energy into things we need. Bad energy can be converted into good and then changed into substance. On the other side, good energy can be used for greed and other thoughtless acts which will create great future interference and struggle. This is my mantra for today: Magic and Miracles follow me everywhere I go. Magic and Miracles follow me everywhere I go.

I learned from one of my all time favorite family members a quick way to silence your thoughts. I know it sounds impossible, especially to those who understand meditation and how important it is to have control over our thoughts in times of stress, but it is not impossible. It requires asking yourself a question.

“Who a I?” Ask yourself this question honestly and you will find yourself in a truly quiet moment.

These rare moments of silence are important and hard to achieve, but through this question, asked honestly, you will find a quiet that is not artificial or forced.

Don’t be too concerned if people learn about you meditating or laugh at the idea that thoughts can really create something real. Just because they don’t think like you or value your vision doesn’t mean they won’t benefit from your quiet times. Remember that nno matter how magnificent the sun truly is, people still complain about it. What is more importantly, is that you practice this thought: how will this serve me?

How will the new information you learn from meditating, they new information you learn abobut yourself, make you into a better person?  Only you must accept who you are. 100% acceptance of who you are is the beginning of understanding how you are creating your own reality.

What did you think about when you closed you eyes to meditate?
What was the first scene you saw floating before your eyes when you tried to shut everything out?
Who’s voice did you hear first?
What did they say?
Who were they speaking to?
How did it make you feel?
What memory do you have of meditating yesterday?

These questions will help you put your thoughts in order, help you understand what is always lurking behind the scenes putting “ideas”into your head, and it’ll show you a better layout of the map you have to navigate to bring a thought you “want” to have to the front of your mind. And once you have a better idea of what is in your mind, you will have a better idea of why certain things are in your life.

Yesterday I hung out with my brother and we had a long discussion on why people act a certain way towards people. We shared personal stories and how we should interpret other people’s actions towards ourselves. We came to the conclusion that we don’t see the other person’s feelings. Instead we see their actions and hear their words, but we don’t really know what they are feeling. And this void is very important to us as people. To know what people feel is to know why they acted a certain way. So, what does our brain do in order to fill in the blank?  It replaces the unknown with a “known” and tries to figure out what the action means.

The important thing about living our lives and being the best version of ourselves we can be, is knowing that what someone else thinks doesn’t matter. What I think of myself is the most important thought we could ever have the answer to.

So ask yourself: Who am I?
Do it today when you sit own to meditate and enjoy the silence.

A Writer

Writers

They write
They type,
They’ll edit many times

Move words
’til they’ve
perfected every line

A writer
A lover
of words and page

Writers
aren’t born
somehow their made.


I’ve was a writer even before I realized what being one meant. It was more a nagging suspicion than a revelation. There was always something inside of me trying to get free. My first experience of wanting to create a story was after reading a Conan the Barbarian book. I saw the map inside and drew my own. I tried to write a story to go along with the map, but I never got around to it. I was in seventh grade at that time.  I didn’t actually write any stories that year, but I could see the characters on the map and I began to hear character’s voices in my head. I knew where they lived, where they were going, and what they had to do.  Although, these characters and plots have been with me for a long time, I have failed to write every story,  but I’ve finished plenty along the way. I truly feel that writing is something that chose me.