 It looks like we might have a sunny day outside, I finished off the last of my medicine and spoke briefly to my father-in-law. I didn’t get to bed till 2:30 last night, when one of the neighbors upstairs sounded like they fell on the floor at around one in the morning.
Other than that my upper back is giving me a fit , while I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. But the new candle burns with renewed intensity while I do my damnedest to focus. But my thoughts of late were centered on a new book project, my first in two years. It centers on what all my books center on, my total ramblings about myself and my mundane world. But such as it is, it’s an investment of time, but time well spent allowing my mind to focus on anything but the endless pacing and boredom of my world. It takes me back to my days in study and at work, figuring out problems and leading teams to solutions for the client. But all that’s in the past and these brief spurts of focused energy are good for my soul. I focus outside for a moment, admiring the fact that the bushes and hedges finally got trimmed. But as for me, maybe the day is best spent on top of a heating pad, admiring the work of others while sending notes of encouragement. Something I often did for my team members when tasks were completed or a problem occurred. For that is the best way to treat others, as well as yourself. Because for the most part people want to feel like they are appreciated and that they matter. It just falls in line with the whole herd mentality, where everyone wants to feel valued and respected. #TreatingOthers #Respect #Appreciation #Focus #NewBook
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 Photo By: Damocean It’s a cloudy morning. The non-working among us are milling about outside. Either picking up groceries, having a smoke, or walking the dog. As for me, I’m just taking it all in through the comfort of a window. I got my electric bill today, informing me my “budget bill” is going up by $20 this month and another $20 the next month. So much for budgets.
I’m watching a neighbor walking along the sidewalk having a smoke, getting in their exercise and their shitty habits all at the same time. But look at me, I can’t say much. I’m sitting here motionless with a bad back and no desire to move, like a sloth on a hot summer day. There is no great lesson here folks, it is what it is just killing time. High octane people would tell you, “Get out there and grab life by the balls!” But my response would be, “My balls are too low to grab.” So without a lot of fanfare, all I got to say is, do what you got to do. Cause some days are not even meant for reflection—they’re just meant to be days. So while I hang on till the weekend just to do the monthly cycle all over again. Know that you are not alone in this shared misery. That life ain’t all rainbows and happy puppies, it’s cloudy days where you can’t see the sun and barking-ass little dogs pissing all over your rugs. #Reflection #Observation #Truth #Reality #Life  After a night of storms, I had trouble sleeping last night. Not so much from the storms, but from the crazy dreams I had all night trying to elude the cops that were chasing me and two other guys. We hid out in my Grandma’s old house on Oak Street in Bloomingdale, while the cops searched all around the neighborhood. The dream seemed to end with me staying at the house while my companions snuck away.
It was an interesting dream to experience especially since I was listening to Patti Smith’s M Train while I slept. But I’ll do anything to drown out the mourning of my old CPAP Machine. Now its lonesome groans can be heard over the box fan. So I grin and bear it along with my wife, who in her hemp induced sleep, doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. So I play along with the game just to see how it ends. Knowing that mostly it ends with me compromising with life just to keep the peace for everyone else. I didn’t mean to wake up in a melancholy mood any more than I wanted to wake up all hyper and excited about the day. Neither one seems to suit me; I’d much rather be engaging in a curious but not so nosy kinda way. So there you have it, the gist of my morning. I don't want to consume myself in the ho-hum of the upcoming day, without being too engaging with the people I’ll meet. Because today’s person would much rather feed you crumbs from the table of a public feed. #HoHum #Crumbs #Fear #SocialCommentary #ModernLife  FD Thornton Wish I could describe for you a beautiful sunrise, but the sun only sets on this side of my apartment. I wish I could describe for you a blue waving ocean, but the closest shore to me is 125 miles due East.
I’m feeling a bit melancholy this morning, after a long trip to my nephrologist's office yesterday. Among all my other ailments, my GP has me see a “kidney doctor” quarterly to see how my kidneys are functioning. Usually, I’m in the early stages of kidney disease, but this trip my numbers fell sharply, so we are trying some new treatments. When I first went to my nephrologist, I noticed a slight hum coming from the walls, a noise I could still hear yesterday. What I came to discover is that that was the hum of kidney dialysis machines in the office behind the wall. A sobering reminder of what could happen if you don’t treat the disease. Anyway, that’s the reason for my melancholy mood. Other than that, there ain’t much to tell you, as if you really want to know. But to the few loyal readers I have out there, I say thank you. My main reason for even doing this is threefold. First, it’s my meditation—this is my way of clearing my head of the shit that wants to live inside it. Second, it’s my penitence for all the wrongs I have done, by spreading just a little bit of good Karma back into the world. And lastly, it’s simply sending a message to the ether that someone is listening and understands. So take from my words what you will. I try to keep my stories short so they don’t take up too much of your time. I guess I could video post like everyone else, but I don’t have the guts or patience to expose my mind to such torture. So to all of you still with me, take care. #Confessional #Introduction #Meditation #Clearing #TakeCare  Last night was a bad, bad night. With bearings squeaking in my box fan and my CPAP machine making a similar noise, I didn’t sleep well at all. So I forced myself to sleep with my earbuds in most of the night, until the fan finally shut off while the CPAP squeaked away.
So I woke up late, and the first thing I did was head to the hardware store for a new fan. I was saving the last of my bank account to fill the Kia back up with fuel for the rest of my doctor appointments. Funny how this “greatest economy ever” costs me more to eat and fill up my tank. But such as it is for the working—or at least “retired”—men or women these days. From both sides of the fence, we’re force-fed propaganda built on half-truths, with one side pitting itself against the other for control. Well, how about working together for the votes instead of handing out empty promises? Or better yet, how about term limits for all branches of government, with all assets held in a blind trust till you leave office. Wonder how many career politicians we’d have left? Anyway, my bank account is down $26.99, and I have just enough money left for a half or a quarter tank of fuel and the rest of my medicine. Sleepless nights are a shameful thing, especially for us common folk. Even with all the side hustles out there from selling Avon to OnlyFans, we all have to hustle. All we do is end up paying dues to the man sitting on their yachts ignoring distress calls. But don’t mind me; I just had a rough night of it with the fan and the new neighbors upstairs moving in till one in the morning. But this rant is over now. Hope each of you has a good rest of the day—unless you live upstairs. #Rant #Tired #Frustrated #Honest #LettingItGo  Jekyll Island - FD Thornton I hate feeling like I’m being rushed. Being rushed is the very reason I’m on disability and retired now. Rushing to get a project completed for school to get my MBA started the road to my congestive heart failure and the eventual permanent damage to my left ventricle. So, needless to say, I am not a fan of rushing. Sitting here writing, I can’t help but stare at the clock on my screen, knowing that in less than an hour I should get up and run an errand here in town. It’s not an obligation as much as a commitment to do something. Still, it means I have to rush my morning routine to fulfill a voluntary commitment. To be honest, it bites. When I’m in the mood, I’d much rather write and tell a story or pen a poem. I guess what I’m trying to do more than anything else is convince myself to go get it done. Oh, the shameless way we guilt ourselves into doing the things we know we should, but don’t want to. The funny thing is, after my widow-maker and a seven-day stay in the PCU of a brand-new hospital, I received a letter saying, "Congratulations! You passed your Capstone Exams and are rewarded with your MBA!" with the bare minimum score—unknown to them that I did it all while having my first heart attack. Funny how things turn out. After a series of smaller heart attacks, bouts with atrial fibrillation, four or five heart-related surgeries, and more specialists than I can count, I think I’ve earned the right not to rush. But even in my early retirement, I’m still obligated to do just as damn much as I did when I was working and taking care of my young family. But such as it is, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve got about 30 minutes left to work on this, and then I’m doing what I said I would do. #Time #Priorities #Retirement #Caregiving #GettingThingsDone  Once again the sun bathes us in its bright, humid light. From inside the window it looks all peaceful and enchanting, but outside it’s a flaming hot Southern torch of humid death. Since the discovery of air conditioning a Southerner may work in the beating sun all day. But I guarantee his truck and/or his house has an air conditioner turned down to 32 degrees.
Just like my grandparents before me, I have a Frigidaire compressor and a box fan blowing on me as we speak. The only thing I ain’t got is a haze of cigarette smoke hanging over the kitchen table and a church fan flapping in the breeze. Still, there are moments when the air is just a little too chill without the constant running of youngins in and out of the front door. But for me those days have long passed, and children these days stay locked in their rooms playing video games or posting to social media. But who am I to speak ill of them, when I do the same damn thing myself? But I try and balance my habit by creating words that are usually half-entertaining or at the very least informative. Passing along some of the half-ass wisdom I learned over the years. But just as with my own children, I wonder if there is any point in trying. I mean my kids often look at me as some damn fool they ain’t got to tolerate anymore. Considering they each have fairly comfortable lives way better than mine. But ain’t that the way it’s supposed to be, each generation building upon the other? So while life in my tiny little apartment might seem small, there’s a bigger legacy at hand. That even if you made mistakes and were totally imperfect from day one, the best and the brightest can still spring from your loins. Think about that. #Storytime #Imperfect #DoYourBest #Legacy #Reflections  Google Gemini My wife came into the office to update me on a TV show she watches, mentioning that a 58-year-old contestant had won an endurance competition. I sarcastically replied to my wife, “But she still ain’t as old as you,” bringing up once again her recent 60th birthday. Time has a funny way of sneaking up on us all. For decades, I lived by the self-fulfilling prophecy that I wouldn’t live past the age of 59, the age my parents passed. Well, now I’m on my way to living five years past that prophesied date. Time has a funny way of changing attitudes and opinions as well. What I once thought were long-past, deep-seated hatreds and prejudices all seem to have arisen again from the grave where they were once thought buried. Or maybe it’s just my own naivete' that thought that. But for whatever reason, it’s here. And it’s not the usual old vs. young, progressive vs. conservative kinda stuff either. It’s the whole caste system rebranded and repackaged to make a select few justify their own superiority all over again. It would be easy for me to jump on this train of colored cultural divide if it wasn’t for the fact I’m just as poor as everybody else. “He who has the gold rules,” we all know that. But does that give them the right to treat other humans with contempt? I am a reasonably educated man, but that doesn’t make me any smarter than my late grandmothers with their minimum educations. It just means I’m full of useless facts that didn’t keep families together through a Great Depression and a World War. But the elite use the tools of the straw man to fool you into thinking that just because you’re a male and white, you are somehow better than anyone else. Don’t fall for the trap! It’s an ancient trope used to divide and conquer a disillusioned people. Don’t be fooled by the tactics of the ruling class—look at their examples. Are they building up, or are they profiting off others' pain? #Strawman #FoolingYourself #Deflection #RealEnemy #Truth  My old eyes have been fading out today, because of the early onset of glaucoma and good old diabetic retinopathy. Just chuck it up to everything else my vast team of doctors have diagnosed over the past 30 years. It’s late in the afternoon, I just finished fixing supper and my best friend just texted me a picture of her new kitten. Funny how life works, she traded in a husband for a kitten, and I fix supper for a family that won’t eat it.
So I ask myself, why do we waste our time? I mean between my friend's commitment of 20+ years and my nearly 40 years of trying my best, what is the point. Anyway, life is often just a game of dice where you roll the bones and see what happens. You either lose your snacks, walk away with a few nickels, or get shanked in the yard. What else can you say, other than the platitudes and prayers that we were all taught to say, that don’t mean a damn thing anyway. And that’s because we ain’t the ones who are hurting. It’s such an inconvenience to hear someone else bellyache about a problem. Especially when we think we have all the answers. Well for one, I don’t. I quit living in the answer business a long time ago, now I do my best to live in the listening business. People come to me every day with their troubles, in text messages or social media. To be honest I don’t mind, it mostly ties into my former job as a Security and Business Analyst. It’s just that often times I don’t have anyone to confess to myself. So I usually end up sending my troubles into the ether, in the form of stories just like this. I sometimes get replies like, “hang in there” or “praying for you”, you know the usual platitudes. But that’s okay, I don’t really expect to hear glorious words of comfort from someone I only know as @surfmuffin. But life often gives us comfort where it can, and if that comfort comes from a surfing cat emoji, then so be it. #Platitudes #Emojis #SocialMedia #Alone #Confessional |
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