Categories
short stories

Silence can be the loudest words spoken

I believe this is a post that is as much for me as anyone in the world. I have a bad habit of speaking more than I listen. I also have a problem with letting words spill out of my mouth before I have a chance to allow my brain to check what ramifications may befall me because of the words I speak. I have always used a saying that states, “If you don’t want the answer, don’t ask me.” Part of this is because I speak with complete honesty when at all possible. This, in many cases, can hurt the feelings of those who ask my opinion. The other part is that I speak out how I feel very quickly, not worrying about those around me. This, in some cases, can be called “diarrhea of the mouth.”

Although many who know me think highly of me because of my honesty, others wish I would keep my mouth shut. In this day and age, people are offended by every little thing that they do not feel is a compliment to them. This causes me (and many like me) to use our words carefully so as not to offend others. Someone like me, who loves to talk and believes that honesty is the best policy, can cause very adverse conditions. 

I was raised in a time when it was fine to speak your opinion to those who were your age or younger than you. However, when speaking with someone who is your senior, you must only give your opinion when asked for it. For the most part, this worked well in the ’70s, ’80s, and even the first part of the ’90s. However, this way started to fall apart in the mid-’90s up to this day. What changed?  The changes began when people stopped teaching their children to listen to their elders. Instead, they are now taught to speak up when they feel like it, no matter what their age is. This has its good parts as well as its bad parts. First off, it does give each individual a voice in society. This is considered a good thing. The second part is where the problem lies. When we no longer teach our children to hold their tongues when speaking with an adult, we have the respect taken out of society, and we create a world where anything and everything offends someone. So, even though we were not living in a perfect society during the time that I grew up, I can say that we used more respect and were less offended than those people being raised today.

I am now in my fifties and find myself gaining ground on the older generation. I also find myself in a society that no longer believes in the teachings that I grew up with. Although I try to speak the truth, few wish to listen, and of those few, half become offended by what I have to say. So, how shall I speak without offending others around me? This is something that I have pondered over for a long time now. I believe there are two ways to solve this dilemma, and I shall try to explain each in the following paragraphs.

Mule deer with its ears forward to listen
Listen up

It is wise to listen twice as much as to talk. Twice may also grow to three, four, or many more times depending upon the situation and people with whom you are associating at any given time. Although this may sound crazy to most people in today’s world, it works quite well. Those who speak as much as or more than they listen miss out on many valuable lessons in life. When you are speaking, it is very hard to listen. Furthermore, those who speak too much tend to ramble and lose any authority they may have gained. There is a time to speak and a time to listen. The time to listen must outweigh the time to speak by no less a margin than 2:1. This is a wise way to live.

With the last paragraph being in complete truth, it does cause a problem for people like me. I love to talk and find myself rambling after a while. I don’t take the time to think before I speak. For the most part, this works well for me. However, during a heated discussion, my words do not come out as I wish them to (I start rambling). Now I find that all the information and truths that I wish to share have become no more than a garbled mess of words that make up a bunch of nonsense. This has caused me grief in many instances. I must find a way to put forth what I wish to say in a way that others can understand and respect.

It took me more years than I wish to admit to come up with a way to fix this problem I have. Then, two years ago, it hit me in a way I had never thought of. I found that when I write, I get very quiet and allow my mind to work out how to put forth the words I wish to use. Not only did it help me get my point across on any given subject, but I could go back and fix any wording mistakes before someone could read what I had written. My voice became my printed word, no longer just a bunch of hot air! I don’t have to take back what I said to spare someone’s feelings because I can fix it before it goes out to the public. I can now read my thoughts and decide whether to allow someone else to read them. This works very well for me.

If you were to meet me and have a spoken conversation with me, you would find a different person than the writer you see before you. I am the same, and yet I am two different people all rolled into one. Although both sides of me think the same, have the same beliefs, and are honest about them, one is well-written while the other can be overpowering with words.

The adage says, “If only I knew then what I know now.” There is a lot of truth in this, and as we get older, we all find this to be true. I hope that if one day we speak face-to-face, you will remember me more by my writing than by my spoken words. There are many ways to speak without using your voice box or that big hole in your face. Sometimes, silence can be the loudest!

I hope that in some way I have helped those like me find ways to express themselves by listening more than speaking. If speaking is your main issue (as it is mine), may you find different ways to use speech other than having diarrhea of the mouth? Take care, my friends. Remember, we are all in this together.

Categories
short stories

Burned-out Internal light

Author’s note: When I started writing my short stories, I made a promise to myself and my readers to be honest. That being said, no matter how I am feeling, I will be truthful and share my feelings with my readers. There is some of me in all of my writing, whether it is a helpful article or a fantasy story. This is the only way I can achieve a one-on-one relationship between my readers and myself. I pour some of my soul into all my stories. And so, this article may be somewhat distressing, but I feel I must once again share my true feelings with you. If I hide this part of my life, I will be breaking the promise I made in the beginning.

When did my internal light lose its luster? What quenched the fire that once burned so brightly inside of me? Is this part of growing older, or is this something else that I’m dealing with? These are a few of the questions I have had of late. These are the questions that have slowed my writing for a while now. This is not an excuse or a cry for help. These are just the questions tormenting my soul at this point in my life. I began my writing journey for self-help, and it turned into so much more. I believe that I have helped others with my written words. Now, I find that my self-care has eluded me somewhere along the way.

Am I alone in these feelings that I’m having? I would venture to say that is improbable and very unrealistic. So I find myself writing about these feelings, not only to help myself but to help others in the same boat I find myself in. Together, we can solve any problem, no matter what it entails. Alone, we will drive ourselves deeper into the rabbit hole, but together, we can climb our way out.

I am a firm believer that we must help one another get through these times of despair. You are not alone! Most importantly, we will work together to find our inner fire and bring it back to full flame. Living with this lull in life is not something I would wish upon my worst enemy, and most definitely not on those I care about. However, this is something I and many others are fighting against as I write these words.

What is the answer to feeling okay once more? Is there an answer, or do we just ride the wave until it passes back into the darkness from where it came? I have seen many things in my life, and one truth has always shown up. There is an answer to all problems! The trick is to find a solution to the problem you and I are facing. The solution may come from ourselves, a close friend, a relative, a stranger, or from God above. Where will the solution come from to the problem I am facing now? Will the solution be in a way that will help others facing this strange feeling? I can only hope that by putting this in print and publishing it, it will come from the audience I am writing this to.

I believe there comes a time in all our lives when this feeling of being lost (or discombobulated) affects us. If you have not experienced it yet, this is a blessing. However, I do suggest that you pay attention. In this way, if it happens to you, you will be more prepared to fight it out of your life. There are many ups and downs in life. It just so happens I’m running in the valley right now, along with many others around you. Once you hit the valley, it is hard to see the mountaintops because of all the clouds blocking the view. This is strange because when you are on the mountaintop, it is easier to see the valley below. I suppose it is in the perception of how we view things in a given situation.

If you are suffering from what I described above (I know it is very vague; however, I don’t know the words to describe it in a better way), I would like you to comment below and know we are together in this fight. If, on the other hand, you have a solution, please comment below so we can all use it.

Thank you for your time and patience with me. I have been writing some fiction on my other site because that is what makes sense to me at this time. I hope to get back to my old self soon so I can continue writing on this site as well. Take care, God bless you, and as always, remember, we are all in this together.

Categories
extras

Been away writing fiction

To all my followers, I wanted to write and let you know that I am well and still writing. I have been working on some fiction posts at this time. Worry not, I will be making my normal post here fairly soon. In the meantime, if you wish to read something different, go check out a post that I just published on my other site.

That post was pulled from my brain out of a memory of a house we lived in when I was a kid. Although the post is fictional, the house was haunted, and the room was real! It is a long read, over 4000 words. If you are interested, go check it and a few other posts I have at Flip side

Old rundown bedroom with big bed and paint coming off walls.
Emily’s bedroom

Haunted Room [part I]

I have a few post I am working on for this blog and will start posting them soon. I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten about you, and I apologize for the delay. I promise to start putting up posts for this site very soon. Thank you for sticking with me and spreading the word of “Old School Thought.” Until that time, take care and remember, we are all in this together.

Categories
short stories

C.S.I blog origins

      I have said this a few times within my writing and even in my profile, within a couple of places these post show up. Yet, I have not told the whole story of how and why this website (readcsi.com) came about. As I sit here trying to figure out what I should post about for you, my readers. I have decided to tell the story of how this blog came about. This may or may not be something that interests you, and either way is okay. Since this blog is starting to gain steam, I think it’s time to share. You may not see it on your end, but some things have happened recently, that is about to affect my writing in a good way. As a matter of fact, I may be expanding my writing to include another website where I will be working on short fictional stories. I also have some surprises coming to Common-Sense Interaction that I believe will be good for the old school thought movement going forward! Without further rambling, let me dive into my story.

       Some of you may know that I was injured while working in a copper mine. If you don’t, that’s alright and not of importance at this time. That’s a story I may write about in the future. The main takeaway is that because of this accident,  I became disabled and unable to continue to work. After so many years of working, I became what I feared of as a useless man. That was my first mistake, I had never become useless, that fluff was all in my head. I felt the world come tumbling down around my ears, and I was putting undue stress upon my family as well. The doctors preformed this treatment and that treatment with little result. Finally, it was decided this was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

        The pain was pretty bad, and I was prescribed morphine for it. I was in and out of doctor’s appointments, and I was prescribed a higher and higher amount of morphine. With this drug, I got to the point of being a blubbering idiot. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I was driving my family crazy and I couldn’t see why. Furthermore, I didn’t realize how bad that opioid was making me. What made sense to me was gibberish to everyone around me. The worst part was, the drug didn’t help the pain at all. I was basically a jellyfish sitting in front of the television all the time. (Talk about useless, there it was).

Man acting drugged

       Finally, I got off morphine (I went cold turkey. One day on, the next day off for good) with help from my family a great physician and psychologist at the Veterans administration. It was a surprise to find the help that I needed at the VA. Once I was myself again without the opioid poison coursing through my veins, I once again wanted to be of help somewhere. I couldn’t work at a normal job, (for me) and I wasn’t ready to lie down and quit. My wife helped me start a small farm to keep me busy. What I could do, I would and what wasn’t possible, my daughter’s helped me with.

       I have always been a nighttime person, but after the accident, this became acute insomnia. Watching television night after night became boring and it wasn’t helping my IQ any either. I needed something to keep my mind busy and off my pain. Finally I starting writing a little. I started with a personal blog (The Billy thoughts) and it got me nowhere. I’m not the kind of person to do something without making it better than before. I wanted others to read my stories and if nothing else, feel sorry for me. I know that’s horrible, but that’s where I was at during this time of life. So, I decided to start writing of my experiences and things that I had learned through my life. I wrote a few things, had my wife look over them to check for spelling and punctuation errors, and posted them on my new blog Common-Sense Ideology). People started reading and I found out, I was helping others as much as myself. What once was personal therapy, now was therapy for others as well!

Man typing on a laptop holding a note pad

I continue to make small post on my blog, and the more I wrote, the more people read. It was such a surprise that I started getting excited. I have always been good at teaching others hands on work, but teaching through my little post about life skills, who knew? All of a sudden, I’m no longer writing for myself, I’m writing for my readers. I have to get busy and make this something to be proud of. I worked on different little things, like colors and making different pages. Furthermore, I looked at the name Common-Sense Ideology, which was the whole name to log in with (Commonsenseideology.com) and thought, something isn’t right. On my page, it actually said CSI because I thought I could get some alien chasers to my blog. I did it as a joke, but it caught on! Then as I was reading the definitions of common sense and Ideology, I discovered they were complete opposite. They worked against each other and made me look like a moron.

I still wanted to keep CSI, but needed to change what the “I” would mean. I literally got out a dictionary and started going down all the words starting with the letter “I”. This may be simple for you, but for me, it took many hours to decide what to go with. I finally decided to go with “Interaction”, and it seemed to fit. So now my paid domain would read “Commonsenseinteraction.com”. Still seemed wrong, too damn long. While I started thinking what to do to fix that, I decided I needed a catchphrase, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. “Old School thought” was exactly what I wanted. It all fit, except for the outrageously long domain name. It took me three months to come up with something simple for others to remember. And so “readcsi.com” was born! I still kept the “CSI” that I wanted and came to be known by. Short, simple and to the point, I had it all figured out.

Now the only thing left was a logo to fit all my ideas into. How hard could it be? Crap, a lot harder than I thought! I’ve had a few different avatars. (see avatars at bottom of post) Some looked okay, some looked terrible! Six months and I finally made one I like. I sure hope you like it as well because I’m not changing it again, too much writing to do to worry about anything else. I will continue to update my site and welcome any ideas you might want to shoot my way.

Well, if you kept reading to this point, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. As I said before, there are a lot of exciting things on the way, possibly even a sister site. Thank you for reading and being a part of this community. If you haven’t signed up for emails, you are welcome to join this community for free. Let’s get together and spread “Old School thought” using “Common Sense” with our “Interaction” and watch it grow! Stay tuned and take care, my friends. Great things are on the way!!!

Categories
short stories

A Writer’s life within

     Only a writer knows what he/she will put down on paper. Whether it is fact or fiction, the writer must enter the pages before a word is even spelled out. To live in a writer’s mind would be unnerving to most. To take all the threads of thought and be able to string them together for the reader to understand, is a miracle in itself. How do these people function in the outside world with so much yet to be written? How do we put aside our writer’s thoughts to function outside the pages of his/her next great work spelled out for you, the reader.

Man typing on old typewriter
Trying to put emotions into words

      The paragraph above has truly been in my thoughts, as I to live in a writer’s world now. Before the accident that sidelined my career, I myself could never string two sentences together to help someone understand what I was thinking. I would’ve never been able to allow someone to look into my thoughts on any given subject, whether fact or fiction. Why now then am I able to do so? Why can I now paint a picture in someone’s mind using nothing but the words I put into print? I have a lot to learn to write a book and keep my audience engaged, but I can write short stories and keep my readers’ attention throughout.

     I have always been a good talker, (some would suggest, I am way too good at it) I can tell a story in casual conversation and make you feel as though you are living it as I speak. But, to write something and get the same reaction, now that’s a lot harder to accomplish. For you see, when I write, I have to imagine your expressions while you read. I cannot see how you are taking my stories while you are engaging in them. Face to face, I can adjust my emotions to help you get more from the story. But, when I write the story down, I can only use the words, without facial expression and imagine how you are taking my words in. How you are understanding what I am trying to explain is different and difficult.

     Everyone has their own imagination and without the help of the writers emotions being seen, how can I decide what words to use. Is there a universal set of words that all will understand? So what changed for me to be able to get through to you using only my thoughts and written words? I have found my answer to these questions, that satisfy my own mind, but I can’t speak for other writers and their thoughts on this subject.

Man studying papers at a desk, deep in thought
Finding the right words to use

     My adaptability to using the words on a page comes from speaking to myself within myself. I use my inner thoughts as an audience to my writing. I do ask a couple of family members to read some of my post before I publish them, so I can see their emotions as they read. This usually gives me confidence, however, I do get a feeling sometimes, they are just being kind. It takes the person I don’t know to give me a review before my confidence really goes up. I have also learned a lot from my wife with how to write down an idea and to explain it. (I am very thankful for her help) I have since moved on to using my own ways, whether they are correct or not.

      I began to have a lot of time within my own mind after my accident. I have gone through a bout of self pity, but have used that to help others. Depression has been a great part of dealing with myself, and I have been able to turn that into a positive through my written words. As I write, I feel a power of positivity flow through me and into my hands. This flow is what you are reading in my post. Depression is completely gone as long as I am writing.

     All in all, I have decided, the reason I have been able to write the way I do is simple. I have learned to spend more time inside my own thoughts and less time outside my own head. We all talk to ourselves from time to time, but I spend hours in deep conversations with myself, although not showing it on the outside. If I were to have my conversations with myself out loud, I would be writing with crayons inside a sanatorium. Best to keep my conversations quite, I think.

     I would like to hear how other writers are able to do what they do, or if they even know. Does it just come natural to some, most or all of them? Am I the freak amongst the crowd, or am I on the normal side of things with how I write? Of course, if this is normal, I worry about the great “Stephen King“. I would be afraid to discuss with myself in terms of the things he writes. I believe that would drive me insane. Furthermore, I know I will never be a great writer like Mr. King, but the thought that he discusses things with himself, the way I do, would be intriguing to know.

      I’m being selfish with this post because, it has been written as much for me as for my readers. I have been reading many post from many authors about anything and everything. As I read other post, it came to me about how they are able to write as they do. Are we the same, or am I a loose cannon? I would love to hear thoughts from other authors on this subject. Do you also talk to yourself and read to yourself to figure out how your audience will respond? Are the things you write about already a part of you, or do you have to go outside your mind to get your stories? Give me some answers here, so that I can better understand how I came about this ability to connect with others using printed words.

Bearded man in straight jacket yelling
Crazy to have conversations with one’s self?

     I suppose, if some guys with white suits show up at my door offering me a jacket with sleeves that tie in the back, I will have my answer of going crazy or not. Just in case, I won’t give you my address for now. Well, that’s it for now. I look forward to reading your thoughts. If you are an author, let me know if you write fiction or non-fiction and how you come up with your writing abilities. Take care, my friends. Until next time, remember, we are all in this together.

Grief takes it’s own path

     I wanted to start this post by telling you that I have had a hard time writing this week. This has nothing to do with writers block or anything even in the near vicinity of such. This has to do with my thoughts and me this week. I started this blog as a form of therapy for myself and never expected much more from it other than that. I have since gained readers of my work and have felt a responsibility to those that follow this blog. In one way it lifts my spirits to know that others would take the time to read my stories. When I hear that one of my family members enjoyed something I wrote it is one thing but when a stranger enjoys something I write, it becomes so much more. I start believing in myself and feel the need to continue putting my thoughts into print for you.

Man sitting at a desk with a laptop open
This is my therapy

     When I started this blog, I was in a bad state mentally. I felt a certain despair that I couldn’t even explain to myself, let alone anybody else. I became disabled from an accident that I had while working in the mines. I sustained nerve damage that put me out of work for good. For someone like me, this was a devastating thing to happen, not because of the injury but because of not being able to work anymore. I have held a job in some form or another since I was seventeen years of age. Well, that is untrue I suppose. Seventeen was when I worked for a place that I started paying taxes. I was much younger doing jobs for cash. Whether it was mowing lawns, hauling hay, working on cars in my dad’s shop or working in my mom’s grocery store. So when I got hurt, I felt unwanted and unneeded, even though this was not true in anyway, shape or form. My wife and children still needed me to take care of things around our little farm.

     I went into a deep depression and tried to hide it the best that I could. Once i started writing, it seemed to help more then all the drugs the VA has me on. However,  sometimes it still catches up to me and it’s very hard to shake. That’s what has been going on with me this week. I haven’t been able to sleep and the little bit of sleep that I have gotten has been very restless. I have opened my blog many times this week wanting to sit down and write but without the full focus that I always use when I write. I knew I needed to write not just for me but for you as well. I have finally been able to sit down and do what needs to be done. I want to thank each and every one of you for spending some of your precious time reading my words.

Without having an outlet for my brain to focus on, my depression would become widespread. It is because of you, my readers, that I feel I have a purpose outside of my home again. Thank you for reading. Now that I have gotten that out of my brain and down in print, it’s time to give all of you one of my post that you expect and I feel the need to write each week. I hope you enjoy this post and relay it to your friends. I call this “Grief takes its own path”. Grab a cup of coffee, pull up a chair and join me in the little journey that I have written for you this week.

     When someone passes on to the great beyond, they leave others behind to grieve. All people grieve in different ways. There is no right or wrong way to do this. Some people find themselves breaking down in a pool of tears. Others will never show any signs of even caring for the person that has just been laid to rest. There will be some that will shut down and not want to talk about it, while others want to tell everyone they run into how they are feeling.

Men with umbrellas attending a funeral

     There’s not a particular path to grieving. No one can say, this is the way it’s supposed to be. There are people out there that will try to tell the world how to grieve but they are speaking way above their heads when they do. If someone says that you are supposed to grieve a certain way, they are totally wrong. This is a misconception and should not be forced on others. If you feel the need to bawl your eyes out or not shed a tear at all, that is completely normal for you in this situation. Just because a person doesn’t cry at a funeral, doesn’t mean they are not grieving. Maybe this person will cry later by themselves in the closet. Maybe this person feels that if they cry, they have somehow hurt their memories of the person laid to rest. This is a individual decision of everyone of us. Sometimes it hits in a way that we have no control over.

     I beseech you not to hold it against a person just because they don’t grieve the same way as you. The ones that truly have a problem are the ones that fake a certain kind of grieving just to make others feel secure. This is a terrible way to be and in my book, just a big lie. You be who you are and don’t change just to make others around you happy.

       The path of grief comes in many ways and  alot of the time will surprise the person themselves when it happens. Case in point, I have known many close people to me that have passed on. Some have caused me to break down in tears. Some have caused me to go into more of a state of shock, showing little to no emotion at all. There has even been cases that have caused me to show no evidence of emotion for weeks and then break down in tears. In all these cases, my grief showed up naturally in very different ways and yet it didn’t mean that one person meant more to me than the others. I had absolutely no control to how my grieving process would come or if it would show up at all.

People standing by a casket while the pastor reads from the Bible

     Some people can show their emotions of a person passing, the same way every time. When this happens, it makes me wonder if they are true to their grief or if they are pulling off the big fake for others to witness. Maybe that is how grief really does show up for them. Once again I can say, the only person that knows for sure if you are truly showing your grief or if you are faking, is you. Just remember not to judge others on their grieving process because you don’t know what they feel in their heart. Only they know what’s going on with themselves.

I guess the reason this subject came up in the depths of my brain is because I have known so many that have died in the last month or so. Let me throw this out there just incase any of you attend my funeral. When the time comes, I want you guys to throw a big party. You have plenty of time to cry later. By the way, I’m planning on being around for a long time yet. Take care my friends. Thanks for reading and giving me the feeling of being needed. Remembe, we are all in this together.