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  • Writer's pictureNathan Foley

The Thomas Diaries - Entry # 2

Updated: Sep 17, 2023


I know what I must do, but the incessant call of the void threatens to consume me whole. It takes every plastic fiber of my being to fight its fervent assault on my psyche.

To live this life is to live in white hot resentment for my ineptitude. Would that I could roll down these tracks set before me and build an existence I could be proud of. But alas, I'm coming to the devastating realization that I am utterly useless without the influence of some child's hand dictating my course of action.

My own impotence is a nagging reminder of how short I fall in comparison to my predecessor - the charismatic celebrity upon whose image my very existence is modeled.

He is surrounded by friends and supportive figures. I am surrounded by deceivers and abusers.

He has an entire community to lift him up and ease his anxieties when he is down. I have nothing but my own thoughts and painful memories eating away at my soul.

He has the physical capability to drive down the tracks and move his face muscles.

... and I ...

am an inanimate object.

The battle rages on, but I fear I don't have much coal left in the tank.

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