This is a collection of my writing and correspondence with a few bits of poetry and random thoughts mixed in. I started this blog after learning that some of my letters had an uplifting quality. In the pages of this blog you will find my real life trials and tribulations, the nature of what I think is truth, and the dust and grit of my real life.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Friday, July 29, 2016
Turning On the Old Computer
30th July 2014
Dear
Cassi,
Somewhere
in the working of getting my drawing desk back I determined that I needed to
setup my old desktop computer to examine research materials when drawing. Until
now I’ve had a laptop on that desk but the thing takes so long to turn on and
turns itself off so quickly that it just wasn’t worth the work of running the
thing.
I had
tried. I had turned it on and set it to a number of tasks. One of those was an
online game I was using to keep the computer thinking that it was active. This
idea failed and the computer shut itself off and when I turned it back on it
kind of got confused.
By this I
mean that after I turned it back on it was still thinking about what it was
doing when it shut off more than half an hour after powering up. The internet
was useless. At some point I had to force shutdown the program. I’m not sure
what I’ll windup doing with the old laptop but the desktop I’ve set up cost me
eight hundred and the laptop only two so getting my money out of the desk top
is a bigger thing.
In any
case, two years of in operation had left the computer in a sorry state and it
didn’t exactly want to turn back on.
First it gave me a long beep and never connected to the screen. I had to
look this up on another computer and found that it was the ram failing to
connect to the motherboard.
After that the
computer got its legs under it the thing sat there being old and slowly getting
it mind back. Two years and the computer turned on but just looked at me so I
gave it some time.
I came to
find it had shut down and rebooted and so I gave it a defrag and compression. I
then stuck my flash drive in and set about working on the next comic. It shut
itself off, and I couldn’t get it on again.
Now I was
the one confused. I couldn’t figure this out. The computer kept telling me it
had no operating system. That was until I pulled out the flash drive and it
started right up.
Computers
are hard,
Richard
Leland Neal
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Washing Little Moo
27th July 2014
Dear Cassi,
I’ve heard
the expression every now and again ‘it works as well as washing a cat’. Well, today I washed a cat and she was okay
about getting her fur cleaned. Little Moo has a mouth infection and so has
trouble cleaning herself. It came to be that her front legs were both covered
in goo, and so she needed a washing.
Now Little
Moo was a cat I found at my work and she was so timid on her arrival that
feeding her was hard. I didn’t give it much effort at first as she would just
run away when she saw me, but then I got a good look at her and noticed the
skin hanging loose on her tail. It was at that point that I made up my mind to
get food to the poor animal.
It came to
pass that one night someone found a kitten on property. They had informed us
they were from a cat rescue, and so we gave them pass to remove the animal. I
thought this cat was Little Moo and went out to help them. By the time I got
there they had the cat but it wasn’t Little Moo as I saw her in the bushes.
On my way
back in I showed Little Moo a can of cat food and opened it before leaving it
on the ground for her. When I came back in the morning the can had been picked
clean. The next day Little Moo came out of the bushes to see me. She wouldn’t
make eye contact but rather sat on her hind side looking at the ground, hungry
but expecting nothing, and seaming so pathetic.
From that
point on she was at my car every day. That is until my work forbad me from
feeding her, and so I ended up taking her home. I’ll tell you that story some
other time.
As it came
time to bathe Little Moo I was not sure how she would react. She never minds
being handled, and she loves to be petted. Still I donned my heavy handling
gloves and carried her to the kitchen.
The sound of
the running water was more to blame for her fear and she tried to get away but
never in that time clawed at me. Her greatest objection came from the soaking
and with water I could see the flee sand as the white of her fur came red. She
seemed to like the scrubbing which I did with a surgeon’s brush and Dawn dish
soap. Then I wrapped her in a towel and she was so calm that even Pickles was
willing to pat her head.
Little Moo
does not like Pickles and he’s has a healthy respect for her claws. This would
be the first time in more than a month of her living with me that the two made
contact.
Today was a good day for the little creature. I
can only hope that there are more.
Find the love, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
No Right to Cry
20th July 2014
Dear Cassi,
Adding
injury to injury, I left my home this morning on some errand into the front
lawn and found on the driveway tuffs of fur in the color that once adorn the
neck of my cat Cheshire. There is a slim possibility, but it is unlikely that
she still lives. I could tell by the amount of fur that she put up a fight, but
what could have killed so timid an animal I have a hard time saying.
It could
have been no bird even as she was a small cat for a bird would have carried her
off and the caller would have been lost, but I found it on the ground. Then I imagine
that the wild dog and coyotes have been coming down from the hills have dried
and left no food for the rats and such. Well, what good would knowing the
killer do for my poor cat.
I gave
order with Pickle to keep the animals inside from now on. The two cats that I
call my own will not like this but in the last six months two animals have been
taken. I have to admit that a human could have done this, one that wanted it to
look like an animal attack, but what can I do?
For reasons
that I haven’t found in the morass of my brain I when and collected what fur I
could find and set it in a jar. Then I cried, I cried and told myself I have no
right to cry as I should have done better for my little girl. I should have
worked harder and made this a home better suited for life and she may have stayed
in more and been safe.
Stay Safe, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
Monday, July 25, 2016
Disowned
18th July 2014
Dear Cassi,
Today I was
given paperwork requesting that I sign over my home to Pony Girl and Pickle.
Can you say with any sincerity that I am wrong in thinking of myself without
family? This would be the third attempt at removing me from my mother’s estate,
and so I have no option but to ignore it as I have ignored the last two. There
is no crime in asking for the unreasonable only in forcing the unreasonable.
The offence is moral not legal.
Still,
there has been a crime committed and recommitted over the years cutting at me
and braking down my sensibilities. Why have I not done better in my life? Why
am I still at the mercy of these monsters? Is it that I am lazy or simply so damaged
as a man, or could the world I live in be to blame?
I remember
the first time Pony Girl tried to take my home from me. She came home from her
college graduation and insisted we sell the house. When I said no she said that
she would have me removed from my mother’s estate. Aunt Cabbage “will do it because
she’s daddy’s sister” Pony Girl said
to me and she honestly thought this was true. I talked to old Cabbage
about it and she said she wouldn’t do anything like that but now I’m not so
sure she was telling the truth.
The second
time was when Pony Girl moved out. She talked to Cabbages daughter (I haven’t come
up with a name for her yet) and look for ways to have me declared derelict on
the property. That was a total failure, because she had paid less than I on the
subject.
Now here is
the last time. They sent the paperwork over and at first I didn’t even look at
it but Pickle insisted that I at least read the bundle of forms. I did, and it
named me as a seller and not a buyer of the property. They had paperwork to
take my home away from me. Can I now call myself anything but disowned?
What will
the future hold for me, Cassi, will I one day be homeless like those I protect?
I don’t know. I can say is that I have a long road ahead and little to guide
me. I know I need to fight but I’m not sure I’ve even known how.
Stay safe,
little sister,
Richard
Leland Neal
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Life Coach
17th
July 2014
Dear Cassi,
This week I talked with a career
counselor. I can call it a low point among low points as it was little more
that a waste of my time. It came to me to look to such a person after a bad
spot at work where I believe I have been treated unfairly. Well, no, unfairly
isn’t the right word. I feel like I’m being dumped on.
The technical term for this is ‘toxic
work environment’ but getting dumped on echoes my feeling so much more. So, I’m
getting dumped on and after getting dumped on I ran an internet search for
career counselor and found an online website that let me ‘chat’ with a fellow
named Drew.
Drew works as a ‘Life Coach’ which is a
technical word for dim bulb who gets paid way too much to tell you what you
already know. This fellow asked me to describe myself so I gave him the
description I felt he needed. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, I have
worked in security for more than ten years, I want to change fields. What more
should a career counselor need to know?
He pressed deeper and said I should
pursue a career as a novelist. “Why, yes, I am pursuing a career as a novelist.
I can’t keep my head around my stories, because I’m going through so much crap
at work!” This dingleberry thought I was going to change my mode of thinking
and go back to chasing my dreams. I have to face the reality that I may never
become a novelist. If I do become a novelist I may never be able to support
myself in that occupation.
I informed him that I felt I would soon
lose my job and he said “is there any way to stop it?” As if people lose their
job as if it were a set of car keys. He just couldn’t come to understand that
his advice was outdated. This isn’t the 80’s when any job was enough to have.
In the modern day you need a good job to go after your dreams. As for the rest
of us we live in nightmares.
Stay safe, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Sphincterus and Alan
8th July 2014
Dear Cassi,
It comes as
some odd happening that I told Pickle about your ex husband Turtle Nose wanting
me to forgive Alan for his transgressions against me. Pickle was wounded at the
thought of Turtle Nose approving of his father and the link between these two
men was the spear.
Here we
have two men who have caused be so much strife and been so similar to one
another but counted separately. Alan claimed to be of relation to me by blood
and expected me to serve and obey him without earning respect.
Sphincterus
the Turtle Nosed, no-god of his own universe, demanded a loyalty that he felt
he had no need to pay back in kind. He wanted me to forgive Alan because he
liked to see me in pain. Even Pickle recognizes this and found the thought of
these two men on the same side jarring.
In the end I
find that there are so few people of value in my life. What can I do but move
on?
Stay safe,
little sister,
Richard
Leland Neal
Friday, July 22, 2016
For the Homeless or Myself
14th
April 2013
Dear Cassi,
The morning passed in sleep and so the day has
come to mid afternoon with me drifting in and out of this world. Even now my
body finds its stamina in short supply as sleep and resting easily calls me
from my work. I had no sleep of any kind on the thirteenth and so have come to
this state as my being slowly regulates and comes back to a more normal way.
I question if I can call the ordeal result of my
dedication or greed because my lack of sleep came as result of my labors with
the homeless. I work Friday night into Saturday morning and the evening shift
came open with an opportunity for eight hours overtime.
Normally, I would jump at the chance to work more
hours, but I gave the opening a few days to sink in with the other guards
before letting folks know that if it was still open I would come in for the
shift. I was the only one to make such an offer and so took to have eight hours
of free time between leaving and returning to work on Saturday.
As you know, this situation would mean little to
me if I have no other engagements on the day in question. I sleep when there is
time to sleep and work when work is needed but have no trouble getting the two
completed. Unfortunately, this was a day elected for a bond assessor to arrive
and examine the work left unfinished by a contractor.
One of the rooms to be inspected, as you may
recall, is my washroom, and so I could find no sleep with my bed room
disturbed. Further, Pony Girl would be here making a ruckus and you know how
she bothers me. As Pony Girl and the truth are rare companions I knew I had to
have something to do with this event and so I did engage myself with the
assessor.
I should have taken control of this event from the
start but what is done is done. Pony Girl had first missed several key points
of the failed repair. The largest of these was a place where the drywall was
rotting through the paint. The assessor said that the promises made by the
contractor were not bondable so the cheap cabinets installed are my problem.
Further, the mismatched tile can only be repaired out of my pocket rather than
the contractors. Apparently they can use tile from will not match up and to a
poor job of installing it to boot.
The cherry on top of the assessor’s visit was
negligence on the part of Pony Girl who set a latter for the man that was
unstable. It slipped from under him and he hurt his hand. He came to the
kitchen and washed away the blood but we had no idea where our first aid kits
had ended up after Pony Girls run through the house. Like a soldier in the
fight the assessor finished his work with his wound but I kick myself for not
preventing this injury.
After that I came into work and in doing found the
shift I expected. The evening shifts always mean more work for me and so I
wrote a long report over the passing eight hours. By the time the night had
replaced day I felt the exhaustion in my head. By shift’s end I was having
trouble and wondering if I could find my way home.
I found my limit and so still have to ask if I did
this for the homeless or myself. I suppose it makes no difference now. The
night has gone and they next day has come and finally I find myself ready for
any real work.
Stay strong, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
Thursday, July 21, 2016
Count Your Blessings
21st
July 2016
Hay David,
It looks like you’ve been going through some bad things
lately, and it’s not all that much my business, but you put it out there for me
to see. I’m a fellow struggling with health issues and I think I get something
out of your videos. That makes it only right that I try to give you something
out of my experience.
The internet is a cesspool of hatred and would be
experts who think they know more than you because they read a book. It’s like
when I drag my three bills to the gym and get some six bill chick who smells
like pudding and B.O. tell me that I’m doing it wrong. The only thing is that there
are a few dozen people at the gym and thousands on the net.
You gave me the advice “Stay strong, stay safe,
stay focused”. Well, that’s not easy when I have a nose full of B.O. and
Pudding is it? It’s just as hard when some troll gets up on me and says I
shouldn’t show my fat pig face on YouTube. When people get on me like that I
remember what you said, and I don’t let it get to me.
David, you got a shout out from Phil. That’s like
getting knighted by the King of the internet. If he gave me a shout my problems
would be over. You don’t need YouTube, you still have a job. Me, the last place
I worked refuses to tell me why I got canned or even when.
Count your blessings, bro, you could be in my
shoes,
Richard Leland Neal
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
The Night Thoreau Spent in Jailby Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee: Book Review
I ran into this volume at the used book store some years ago and on the advice of a professor took to "read every play you can get your hands on and watch every play you can afford to see". I can say I'm glad I read this play.
Where as this needs a large company of actors to be produced it is a good read as a piece of literature. I also believe there is a restriction against professional companies producing this work.
All and all, I recommend this work for anyone who likes to think.
Who should read this book? Thinkers
Books Read: 26 of 5,000
Pages 98
Total Pages Read for 'The 5,000 Project' 6,133
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Friday, July 1, 2016
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