Stories - FD Thornton

I had just finished my shower and I was drying off by the fan, when a thought occurred to me. We only have maybe a month of showers left before sponge bath season. You see after the temperature gets steadily below 80°, that cool shower can get mighty cold. Like I’ve said before we live with a few “modern conveniences”. For one no hot water (I’m a bad credit risk to the gas company). Two, the wiring in this house is old and erratic at best. So you don’t overtax the electrical system, meaning it’s very, very dark even with the lights on. I wish I could afford a better place, but even the cheapest rent elsewhere is twice what I pay. I’d tell what our household income is, but you’d probably want start a go fund me page. I suppose I could be bitter or pissed off about our current situation, as so many millions of working poor. But what’s the point? I have just so much energy to spare and I’d rather us it constructively either working the garden or writing a book. Besides for every min

I don’t want to be so angry, pointing out every fault, every flaw. Yet I can’t seem to stop myself from this utter misery. But the alternative would be earth shattering, sending ripples through the fabric of it all. So I look out over the water as the sun silently sets. Drowning me in the waves I so freely took on. Yet can I be human for just a moment and wish to be free. We speak of love as some great savor, but after a while it feels like a noose draw tighter over time. I don’t wish to think this way. But my heart is grasping at threads to find a solution. A solution that has yet to be found. So I rest my mind thinking deeper thoughts, but a lack of focus “makes Jack a dull boy”. So I pull myself again from this drowning pool. Focusing on the blessings of life, those momentary distractions that distract me no more. For all the victims have been saved and I’m left by the water with nothing left to do. So maybe I should focus on myself, but that’s not something I can completely d

It’s funny how on a day that has been such a chore. One little spark of kindness can make it all worthwhile. We spend the majority of our modern lives so angry. Angry at the world. Angry at other people. Even angry at ourselves. Especially ourselves. I’ve discussed before how in “real life” I am often very cynical, and downright unpleasant to be around. I know that might make me sound hypocritical to my persona. But to me it just makes me human. Anyway, I didn’t have a particularly good day. So wisely I mostly stayed out of public view. But I was checking my messages and low and behold a friend from halfway across the world, sent me a sincere note of gratitude. Mind you this particular person has been struck down with some unfair shit. Still in his time of pain and suffering, he sends “me” a thank you note. Needless to say, I was humbled. We can touch the world around us in positive or negative ways. I’m not much on “higher powers”, but within each of us is the capacity to love o

Awakened from dreams so vivid and strange. I lay here a little dizzy and shakened by the thoughts swimming in my head. So I wait a moment to let reality settle over me, as the thoughts from my sub-conscience subside. The ebb and flow of my brain is often just a mixed bag of emotions. More than likely just an inheritance left to me by my father. Whose own solution was to drown himself in work. I for one sought the help of “professionals”. Who took the time to patch me up with chemicals and sent me off on my merry way. Sleep so often is such an elusive dream. I would so love to make the night my own. But lately that simple request has been denied by my mind. I find myself dreaming in “what ifs” experiencing flashbacks of impatient longing. I try to tell myself more time is all I need, but the heart and soul grow so tired. I wouldn’t expect many of you to understand the situation. But it stems from long unresolved issues of emotion. But for so often the pay-off to seeking peace, is

School buses rolled by the windows of my office every school morning. Shortly there after the roam of mufflers rolls by on all the shiny new pick-up trucks heading to school. Rather they come off the bus or park in student parking lot, they all head to the same classrooms and play on the same fields. Inequality can seem like a foreign word in a one stoplight town. With our one high school/middle school and one elementary school. But what is inequality? Is it the difference in family incomes? Is it the opportunities to advance? Or is it the mindset these children are taught from an early age? I grew up on the westside of Chatham County where all the factory working families lived. Before school integration in the early 70’s all us kids in Bloomingdale went to one school from first to sixth grade. Black kids, white kids we all went to the same school attending the same classes. The only white privilege I was aware of was all the black kids lived on one side of town, while most of the

We just had dinner with our daughter and the grandbabies. Although I can’t really call them babies much longer, because they’ll soon be turning two and four. Going over there often brings back a ton of memories. Often I feel regret for not being able to give our children all they needed. But if you know my story, you know I was going through a rough patch with my mental health back then. But I don’t want to make this about me and my struggles. I would rather talk about the strength and resiliency of family. In the past my parents and in-laws were quick with the advice on rising kids. And while some of it was good, a good portion was wishful thinking and dreaming of the past in rosy colors. Each family goes through it’s own unique struggles. To try and pigeonhole a solution for everything would be ridiculous. Some families have to deal with divorce, while others struggle with abuse or addiction. At it’s core it all comes down to conviction and mutual respect. If there is love, a f

Apparently, I picked a bad time to come outside. It’s only two in the afternoon and it’s hot as hell. Still it’s funny how numb my toes can get. The neuropathy used to just bother my left foot and parts of my left hand and the left side of my mouth. But now it’s starting to bother the little toes on my right foot. I don’t know why I’m being this shit up, most people in my situation would keep quiet. I guess that’s because when they do “kick the can”, people would say, “I never knew.” Well I’m giving you a heads up, you can thank me later. But I try and enjoy each moment which as it comes. I suppose I’ve made enough decent choices in my life to grant me that privilege. But I think it’s really more about how you spent the moments that’s really important. I have a friend who is always scurrying about doing this or that. Putting out fires, running a business, and taking care of others. Like myself they have a dependent spouse that has to be cared for and looked after. In all honesty

Image: Sandra Burnsed Ever felt like you were wearing a Scarlett Letter? That you would have to go through life with that target on your back. For a really long time I have felt that way. All my life I’ve felt like I was looked at differently. That the eyes of the world looked upon me with contempt and superiority. It’s a hard feeling to shake especially when you were constantly told you were never good enough. Every so often when I had the courage to put myself out there. The slightest remake or critical comment would send back down the rabbit hole of self-hatred. You feel so marginalized. And even when you are praised, the thought of it tastes like a bitter pill. Self-hatred and fear are things that are not easily shaken. The very act of rejection is a burning blow, when given to a social animal like us. Some of us will lash out in hate and anger, but the majority of us simply cower in a corner. The only thing I can tell you is that we are all worthy of love. That jealousy, e

Not too much weighing on my mind today. Run a few errands this morning, now I’m just laying here gathering the strength to fix me some lunch. (Which simply means I'm too lazy to get up.) Other than that it’s hot, just another summer day in Southern Georgia. Still it’s nice to experience days like this, where there ain’t much is buggin' your mind. My bride’s in the living room sitting in her recliner writing in her journal. While our oldest son is apparently playing old video games in his room. I suppose writing about days like this isn’t very riveting. But they are what they are, and days like this flow in and out of each of our ordinary lives. We like to feel “remarkable”, but seldom does it really happen. Other than writing a book or two, and a ton of stories, I go through my life hardly ever being noticed. But you know what that’s okay, because life is often no more then the passage of time. I wish I could make more out of it than that. Each of us will hardly make

It’s been a while since I had to give a really good motivational speech. Either to myself or anybody else for that matter. But after 2015, my priorities changed, I became much more focused on my health and frankly, just surviving. I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic, but ask my family, some thing’s had to change. So the days of focusing on work and study gave way to a healthier lifestyle and getting my shit together. Still I am sometimes called to give that pep talk, to give an encouraging word. But to tell the truth, I can be quite an asshole. I’m often short-tempered and very critical with the people around me. I suppose I can blame it on my upbringing, we “tolerated fool’s lightly in our home”. I try my damnest to temper my “assholyness”, but more likely than not it comes out anyway. Words are fire, words can be as deadly as a gunshot. Or as gentle as an infant sleeping. When I’m given time, I can be as encouraging as they come. But in the moment, it’s often good that I isol

It’s funny how you can feel on top of the world one moment. Then reality walks by and slaps the shit out of you and says, “wake up!” I thought I’d grown beyond letting little things drag me down. Well Sister (Brother) I apparently haven’t. Right now I’m feeling helpless like my life is totally out of my control. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment. I don’t like feeling like this, never have, never will. It seems like I have spent too many of life’s precious moments waiting for things to occur. Instead of making them happen myself. Around here we have a running joke about just having “bad luck”. But deep inside that humor doesn’t fair well. It simply masks a dread that consumes my joy and therefore consumes my soul. I suppose the actual circumstance really doesn’t matter. Each of us face challenges that feel beyond our control. It cripples you, strips at your pride. Pounds whatever dignity you may have into the dirt. So I sit here, writing my troubles out as I al

I sit in my isolation, away from the cries of those that weep. Yet I hear them, I really hear them. Crying out for justice and a fair break. Yet the system we hold so dear is held up with lies and red tape. Balancing the power to the strong and away from the weak. I don’t know why I am writing this, after all I’m among that most privileged demographic. But that wasn’t the way I was raised. I take the words the good book at face value not how you interpret it. Compassion and empathy are our keys to survival. Brut force may win the game, but it never wins a heart. To change minds we must lead by example. But right now I don’t see too many examples laying around. Power seems to be the name of the game. We all play our victim cards, but who’s really the victim? You and your money or the mother selling her soul to feed her kids? I don’t mean to get all preachy, besides that job’s already been cornered by hypocrites. All I’m asking is, are open-minded enough to serve? I don’t thi

When you walked through the abyss for as long as I had, you learn to appreciate colors more deeply. For a good part of my adult life I was robbed of the simple joys of light, darkness, and composition. But once I dropped my dependents on a chemical fix to make it through the day. The world became a wash with color and sound again. At first it was a bit overwhelming, much like being an infant again. Certain hues and patterns brought such intense emotions. I would cry at the drop of a hat to the sound of a sad tune or the color of a beautiful painting. All this with the emotions I thought I’d lost and nearly forgotten decades ago. My adult children find my sudden appreciation for color and sound a bit strange. They remember the days of dull and grey that covered my mind. Those were times when the responsibilities of life were pressing in around me and the walls began closing in. The paradise I sought to create vanished with each passing moment making it harder to find my way home.

Where can we go but to each other. When life take pot shots at us. We find sanctuary in each other’s hearts. What was a simple distraction has become so much more. It’s become a place where we know we are understood. A place where we know we are truly loved. Think on this as you rest. For I give my love to you. In faith with no fear.   

This was one of the first post I created back in 2011 for Blogger. Thought it would be fun to be a little nostalgic. Well at 3:36 am on November 19, 1962 I was born at old Telfair Women's Hospital in Savannah, GA. And now it's 6:36 am on November 19, 2011 and I am 49 and 3 hours old. Years ago in class we discussed what the year 2000 would be like. We had to figure out how old we would be that year. It turned out I would be 38 years old, wow; to many of us that was a lifetime. It's funny now that that was 11 years ago. The reason I thought about that today was because even though I am 49, I don't feel 49. Now my behind tells me I'm 49 everyday, as well as, other parts of me. But who I really am on the inside doesn't feel that way. If you hear me talk around here you wouldn't think of me as an optimist. If you look at my situation you wouldn't think that either. But truly I am very much an optimist. I'm looking forward to doing great things. Whi