 I came into my study with the sun shining bright and the sound of young children yelling from the playground. After a hot shower and a shave, I feel fresh as a daisy. Even though I don’t look near as good. Still I have just a bit of congestion in my lower throat and upper lungs. But thankfully no fever or sign of infection. At my age and physical condition you can’t be too careful, especially when living in an apartment complex full of small children and having young grandkids as well.
As we age we tend to forget we don’t live in those “shotgun shacks” we were raised in or our grandmas had. Even now the mobile homes we occupy are way more insulated, with heating and air systems that do nothing but circulate germs. So be mindful to change out your filters and keep your vents and ceiling fans dusted. This may sound like a bit of a departure from my usual faire of topics. But while I’m very aware of how my insides feel, so to am I very aware of how my body is feeling as well. It takes balance my friend and if you ignore one part of yourself over another it throws off our balance and overall peace. So as I sit here beside a partially open window and feel the chill of the morning breeze. So to am I very much aware of the breath I breathe and the peaceful beating of my heart. While my body’s balance and nervous shake come into question, I have no fear. For I’ve come to know I am but a finite creature, with my time set by the clock of life. But I am genuinely at peace with that, especially with the moments I still have to live for. So don’t be alarmed by the ticking of the clock. Or the hatred you are forced to watch on TV. Just look outside and listen and change the things you can. #advice #observation #anewyear #balance #PeaceOfMind
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 Back in my study this afternoon, the sun is out and the wind is blowing away the clouds and the rain. Hopefully this will bring back the cooler weather we usually associate with a Southern winter. I broke out a new candle to burn and restocked my wife’s pill caddie. Now if I can only get her to remember to take her pills we’ll have it made. I have the curtains pulled back with the windows partially raised, so I can hear the wind and the children playing on the playground. I assume the kids will be out of school till after the New Year. I don’t look forward to our first New Year here at the apartments. Because if it’s anything like the Forth of July or other public celebrations this past year. I’m sure I’ll hear the noise of feet pounding across the ceiling along with late night fights, as we have with previous holiday celebrations. But you take the good with the bad as long as there aren’t any bullet holes in the walls. While that may not seem like I’m being much of an optimist. I’d rather be surprised by the quiet, then the other way around. So many may not approve of my outlook on the holidays. But I just assume err on the side of caution. And with that, I bid you a Happy New Year, which as I get older, really doesn’t mean that much. I’m more of a seasonal kind of person, looking forward to the cold, then the renewal, then the red hot, and then sleep again. For just as each pecan tree communes with the other outside my window. So too should we all with a sense of union in this united, yet divided world in which we all exist. #compassion #empathy #reflection #confession  Adobe Firefly 4 Before I went to bed last night I spent some time doom scrolling across Tic Tac just to check out the lives. I came across one creator that I follow that actually called me out by name and asked for a $5 donation because she told everyone watching I haven’t sent her any money. I found that a bit embarrassing not just because my wife was watching. But for the last four days my bank account has been in a $6 deficit. I say this not so much out of embarrassment but as a concern for how our lives have become nothing but a profit-making venture. I know this is a slippery slope to climb especially with how the current economy has been lately. I understand that most creators do this out of need and not greed. It’s just ironic for me to see many of my euro friends much less fixated on money and more focused on living their best life. It just seems that most Americans live their lives in forced labor camps. Chained to their jobs like another commodity to the shareholders. It’s just sad to think after all the hard work our grandparents and great-grandparents put in to fight for labor rights. We find ourselves again chained to the greed of the wealthiest among us. Of course it’s easy for me to talk seeing people living in chains, when I cash a Social Security check every month. Many people my age and younger have been programmed to think that SSA or SSDI is an entitlement, when for the vast majority it’s a system we paid into. The misconception is that benefit recipients are lazy moochers. When in fact they are your grandparents, parents, and those with special needs. That for the most part, are one check away from living on the streets. But we know it doesn’t have to be this way. With fair wages and the corporations starting to carry their fair share. We could once again have a healthy middle class. Corporate greed kills me, watching people beg for money for sugar and ketchup kills me. We at our heart are a generous people, so why is greed such a drug the blinds the wealthy to act no different than a junky hungry for another fix.  At the risk of repeating myself, it’s even quieter this morning than yesterday. With the windows open not a breath of wind or the faintest bird call can be heard. With the highs again in the 70’s I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt like it was Florida around here. But thank God it isn’t, it only feels that way. My wife has her morning talk show cranked up loud and proud this morning. With it’s usual cast of hyped-up morning anchors peddling whatever goods they can on this Eve of Christmas. As for me, I’m feeling much better than I was yesterday. With a negative balance in my bank account, I don’t have to worry about an overdraw check. So the bank patiently waits for my monthly retirement to show up so they can deduct their pound of flesh. All I can do is laugh about it, because Granny always said, “You either going to laugh about it or cry about it, and I just assume laugh”. I think about those I have lost on this holiday season. But much like Granny Geiger, there ain’t no point in crying about it. Well I finally hear a bird chirping outside while our son shuffles through the kitchen. And as you may have figured out, my coffees already cold as I peck away at this keyboard. Dreaming of nothing, thinking of nothing, but the next word to fall upon the page. I may not be writing for the benefit of anyone but myself, but that’s okay. If you don’t get anything out of this, that’s okay as well. My truth has been put out there and it’s up to you to discern it as you wish. For life wasn’t created for me to make the rules, but to interpret compassion and empathy as best I can. So be kind to one another this holiday season. #HolidayWishes #Silence #Reflection #MerryChristmas  AI Generated While I slept well last night, there were two vivid dreams that gave me pause. Not the they were bad dreams, just particularly vivid dreams almost like watching a movie. But I do feel a bit over dressed with my new Carhartt jacket that I got for my birthday. Anyway, here I sit with “King of the Hill” blaring through the walls and the early morning sun blocked by a curtain. Sorry if I don’t sound particularly inspired this morning. Even the fancy pumpkin scented candle I bought at a clearance sale isn’t helping. So I stare outside, but nothing there is helping either. I did speak to my father-in-law this morning, and he’s doing well for a man in his 80’s. At the end of our conversation we do try and remember to say, “I love you”, cause you never know in these times. I pause for a moment to come up with some pearl of wisdom here. But I’m not going to pretend that you are stupid, so I’ll let you come up with your own conclusion. Life no matter how plain or ordinary has its own special gift’s. You know, silly little things like watching our Granny Thornton combing her long white hair before she wen to bed. Or listening to my uncles laugh and smoke around the kitchen table at my Grandma Geiger’s house on Oak Street. Or the feeling of freedom riding my 26” bike down Old Louisville Road between Bloomingdale and Pooler. Things like that are long gone now, but they still live in my head. Maybe during this holiday season you have things like that, that occupy space between your ears. Well all I’m going to tell you is cherish those while you can. You may not be able to pass those memories along, but that’s okay, because they live as long as you’re breathing. And that’s what matters.  As the morning tries to break away of the fog and the clouds outside. I had another failed attempt at sleeping through the night. But I have no one to blame but myself for my constant need to hear 24/7 news commentary blaring in my ears. While I know good and damn well the evening is meant for rest. My stubborn refusal to let go of this addictive hold has me in a bind. Pulling me away from the truths I hold dear about living in the here and now. And instead worrying about things that I frankly have no control over. It's sad and pathetic in a way, that I still allow such minor inconveniences to trouble my fragile mind. But yet, I do. So as I sit here, with the windows reluctantly open to let in some fresh air. I can’t help but continue to dwell on the weakness I show over and over again. I guess there are two paths in which I could go forward. One being to continue to beat myself up about it, which I have done most of my life. Or second, I can find the strength and compassion to forgive myself and learn to move on. In this so-called Christian World in-which I am surrounded. The Good Book says to forgive and forget, and that the frailty of men is a given, that requires forgiveness. Yet more and more in-between all the stage lights and “Kumbaya” moments I’ve seen over the years. There is still a Testosterone driven nature that rules with an ever present iron fist. That says, “My way or the highway” or “that weakness must be crushed”. And this isn’t just a male or female thing or even a religious right or leftist scar. It’s all about power and those that want it. We measure success by the number of ants we can destroy or torture, all in the name of God or better yet, ourselves. So how does this all tie into my failures at a good nights sleep? I was taught both to be strong and fierce while conditioned to be gentle and empathetic. So what does that mean? It means the world wants you to have your cake and eat it too. To display the skin of a lamb, while having the heart of a wolf. And while that may seem to make perfect sense to many. It places me in a solitary place of confusion. Out of the decades of bouncing back and forth between success at all cost, and living as each day flows. The choice of living in the latter has brought me the most peace. For too long my assumed successes only led to continued failure. To completely explain this would take an entire book to tell. So for me, the decision is clear. To live in the relative calm of the here and now is to focus on what I see and what I hear. And at the moment, I don’t hear the noise of the world. Just the quiet murmur of the pulse of the planet moving slowly by, while my mind focuses on what’s important. The peace and calm… of rest. #PeaceAndCalm #Empathy #Power #Fear #Hate  “Oh victory in Jesus, my savior forever”. Oh that’s not all, “he brought me and he taught me, with his redeeming love”. That’s what I caught myself humming as I rose out of bed and drawn the curtains this morning. It took me a minute to catch myself, but I could only guess after decades of indoctrination some of that shit just sticks. If you read my previous story, you know I seem to be having that train of religious thought pouring through my head lately. Rather it’s my little sister or my father-in-law or my dearly departed mother doing the meddling in my head, who’s to say. But I hope they enjoy the so-called “conviction” they may believe I am under. I’m sorry that I’m laughing at their expense, Lord knows I love each and everyone of my family. And while we may all live under a different set of beliefs, we ain’t really no different than any other family in the world. As the sun gives way to the grey clouds of another cold front. The wind looks like it’s picking up steam. It better if it’s going to bring those freezing temperatures we’re expecting tonight. But still I sit here as the limbs on the pecan trees twist and sway with a slight bit of anticipation and dread. Knowing that the holiday season is drawing near. So maybe that’s why I have a little jingle in my step. And why the songs of the past pour through my mind. It’s not that my stance on religious dogma has changed. It’s just that maybe as I age maybe I have softened up a bit, but who am I kidding. I just wish all the planning my children put into the season didn’t seem so formalized in stone like a business conference or a shareholders meeting. At least there you can have some cocktails and network. Family events seem to have turned into formal gatherings without the tuxes and tails. Where “clicks” huddle in their corners and polite conversation is directed towards your phone. But then again maybe I’m just an old fuddy duddy that recalls the lively conversations of my youth were awkward hugs and kisses were a normal right of passage. When you knew in your heart, you’d rather be somewhere else. But such as it is in these times, when the adult children received guidance from just one fucked up parent. While the other parent lives in their own world and all the kids see are their limitations as they grew older. Leaving them trapped without any examples of emotion. In this dopamine induced world, pleasure takes precedence above all others. Leaving the words sacrifice and emotion tossed in the dumpster like so much waste and clutter.  I wrote a piece late yesterday afternoon and added it to my Substack platform this morning. I have three platforms to choose from to post to, with a number of social media accounts to notify followers where to find them. But I carry no expectations of hitting any vast number because I am still a dinosaur of words in a world of quicky videos and flashy memes. So it’s easy for me to say I am behind the eight-ball when it comes to being a social media sensation. But that’s okay to be honest, I have no desire to create videos or waste my time creating flashy memes or one-liners. Because after 60+ years I have just gotten comfortable with myself again after decades of hiding in the shadows. It’s funny how life can start out one way, turn around in the beginning, then crash and burn again in a matter of years. At first it look like I was destined to be that bullied little guy from Bloomingdale; sunk in the margins of life. Then I blossomed just a bit with my wit and talent and became the toast of the town. Then through a series of poor decisions I ended up carrying my family to unknown places. Only to collapse, and to this day find myself still picking up the pieces. But such is the journey of a sixty something year old man, with no place to call his own. So I comfortably hang in the margins where I have found some solace. Where my family lives and thrives and where I can carry some satisfaction in that. So the low social media numbers don’t really bother me. But it does offer me a cheap platform to speak my truth. And isn’t that how the greatest truth tellers do it? Depending on the charity of others just to survive. Mostly living on the streets and preaching their truth? So if that’s where I end up helping one person at a time, then so be it. So as I continue to write, may I ask. What do you do to contribute? #life #fame #SocialMedia #Satisfaction #Peace  It’s a little later in the morning than I usually hit the office. But I was feeling a little stopped up, so I went ahead and took a hot shower. By the time I was done drying off and making the bed and drawing back the curtains, it was already past nine in the morning. But the sun is shining brightly through the southern facing windows making every stain that’s accumulated on them shine even brighter. While I’m a stickler for a clean house, I haven’t the dexterity or desire to clean windows. Still the outside glistens with all the glory a late fall morning can bring. With it being as cold as it is, it’s easy to see why people would mistake this time for winter. But we still have minutes to tick off the daylight clock before the solstice happens. After another series of stressful dreams, I finally went back to a restful sleep around four in the morning. Having to remind myself the stresses of the prior day were long gone. And that I can now relax and enjoy the end of my week. It seems that when stress creeps into our lives, we tend to sound the alarms. But most of those stress-induced alarms only end up helping us make even worse decisions. So here I am reminding myself that worst case scenarios usually never happen. That despite my own stupidity things ain’t as unrepairable as they seem. I mean right now there are things beyond my control that I have made some poor decisions about. But time is a teacher and even an old fool like me can still learn. And right now, I’m learning not to panic and to breathe through it to keep my peace. My friend ignore the headlines and don’t let the 24/7 cycle of despair get into your head. Take a moment to look on the outside and notice how the pecan trees lay dormant patiently waiting for the spring to return. Then learn to do the same and watch true peace of mind unfold. #Reflection #Patience #Stillness #Focus #Observation  Adobe Firefly In the relative silence of the morning, with only the echo of cars and the murmur of the TV blaring through the walls. I wrote a blog for my old Blogger account that I really didn’t wish but for a select few to read. So now I’m sitting here at around 10 in the morning with a fresh cup of hot coffee and a half-burnt out candle for company. Even the birds refuse to sing on this fourth or fifth dreary rainy day. But I dressed in a light colored plaid shirt with black pants and a dark green t-shirt. Acting like I don’t want to be seen, but with this button down shirt, apparently I do. Lord knows why you haven’t all grown so tired of reading my shit. Maybe I am just fooling myself with your thumbs up and hearts that you actually have. But it’s a delusion I’m willing to live with if it keeps my passion in tack. But as a writer and creator I’m nothing if not a slave to my muse. I have friends and followers that appear to make a successful living with the work they create. But then there are some who’s pieces seem to only hang in different exhibits and galleries time and time again. So I can’t help but question the value of my work. That appears to be stamped out like so many metal spoons in a utensil factory. But at least that product has a chance to be sold at a profit. While mine languishes tarnished and aged on a webpage I pay to maintain. So why do we put ourselves through such madness? When we could all be designing soup cans or writing words for real public consumption? That’s funny, because even this is being taken away by the sophisticated AI out there. Helping corporations with their burden of creating an adequate profit margin. So I humbly ask. Is it for the art or the drive that we create? Lord knows if I know. Maybe it’s just for the therapy to stay sane. #Creativity #Individualism #Art #Attention #Profit |
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FD Thornton, Jr Copyrighted. All Rights Reserved. Archives
January 2026
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