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.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Monday, November 7, 2016
Love for Pools
2nd June 2015
Dear
Cassi,
I’ve
always had a love for pools which is no wonder in the state of California
because of the heat, but did I ever tell you about the pool I had as a kid? It
was one of those above ground jobs with steel sides and an uneven bottom. I
loved that pool. I would come home from school and jump in wearing nothing but
my jockeys and for most of my young life the water went up to my chin making me
prance around.
I
did very little swimming, but I loved the water so that I would just do laps
walking from one end of the pool to the other. There was a time that the pool
was heated, but the heater broke, and then we took it apart. I remember it
being full of dust and old plastic bracelets. The base had been made of loose
red bricks which became toys once unearthed.
I
used to build temples and army bases of those old bricks. A few I crushed back
into dust, but why I couldn’t tell you. I never knew how sick my mother was
until I was nine, and she never had the time to be there for me. I remember my
happiest moments as a child being alone with my thoughts. I was a world onto
myself back then and in a way we all are now.
You
can figure that’s part of my keeping to myself now days, but there is much more
to it than that condition. In the darkness of our lives we should let our mind
grow distinguished and wise but keep our hearts young and able.
Well,
one day I came home to find the side of my pool burst open and the back lawn
teaming with insects floating in the chlorinated water. That was the worst day
of my life at that point, but I didn’t know it yet.
Know
what you have, little sister,
Richard
Leland Neal
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Friday, November 4, 2016
Mental Health Facility Cover Letter
12th
January 2015
I take interest to your position as a Residential Counselor
because of its relevance to my occupation of the last four years. I worked with
young adults in a homeless residential setting. In this setting I dealt with
vomit, urine, and other body fluids and was often told that I handled the worst
parts of the job with grace and professionalism.
I can say with honesty that many of the clients
commented that I was a patient and kind man who could always be relied upon to
help them no matter what their problems. I took a great deal of pride in my
work.
I also hold a BA in Psychology but sadly have taken
few units in early development. I believe I’m good with children, but in
honesty have rarely worked with them.
Thank you for your time,
Richard Leland Neal
Thursday, November 3, 2016
Not a High One Wants to Get
22nd
December 2014
Dear Cassi,
Today I got some bad news with my lab results. It
would appear as though my blood sugar is too high. It was bad enough when my
work required me to take a health evaluation and now I have ‘health coaching’
to endeavor to keep my medical benefits at some reasonable price.
My work required a lab for this and my doctor
insisted this be a fasting lab so after twelve hours of fasting, a morning of
calling and rushing to get lab results, and making myself sick over things I
learn that my blood sugar is one hundred and one. Four points into the pre-diabetic
range.
So this is sobering but not unexpected. I have a
love for soda and I eat too much junk from the machines. When you’re fat like
me the world looks at you like you grew a second head, but a high of four
points could just be an anomaly. Other than this and the fat I’m in perfect
health.
Wish me well, little sister,
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Going Green
I recall writing this as a
suggestion to management at the homeless shelter I worked at back then. Then I remembered
that I hated them and they treated me like crap so I never really finished the correspondence.
You tell me if it was a good idea.
Sometime in November of
2014
Going green,
As a homeless
rehabilitation program we always have a great need to both reduce costs and
improve public relations. One angle that may be effective is to approach donors
and volunteers with a desire to improve the campuses water consumption rate by
planting drought tolerant plants, adding water crystal to lawns and installing
water soil moister sensors.
This would reduce our
water bill providing more funds for other needs and appeal to both advocates
for the homeless and environmentalists. Expressing a desire to become the
greenest shelter in California may also bring us welcome public attention.
As a shelter we could then
express that we assist the homeless in a responsible and environmentally
friendly way. After all, what good is helping the homeless if there is no world
for them to live in once they’re back on their feet?
Donors seeing or hearing
about this can then feel confident that their money is well spend, and that
their donations have a direct impact on the well being of all Californians.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
No Bed to Sleep In
2nd November
2014
Dear Cassi,
For so long in my life
I’ve had this image in my head. It’s of a dark universe dotted with stars, but
in this darkness there is an abyss. I see a star falling into that abyss and
feel it on the cusp of becoming nothingness.
The other stars go dim and
all hope vanishes for the little speck. The darkness closes in and all light is
gone. Then there is a flash and the speck rises from the nothing. It holds
itself against the velvet blackness and births and infinite number of stars. To
me this has always been the symbol of hope from hopelessness and triumph from
defeat. Then you could chock it up to me being eccentric.
Over the weekend I’ve run
my normal loads of dishes but added in the work of clearing out my bedroom with
the hope of removing the smell of cat poop and placing back in this room my
entire bedroom set. My bed is now in pieces across two rooms waiting for me to
reassemble it once I’ve cleaned and dried the carpet. I cannot clean the carpet
until the morning so I must take my rest on the floor tonight.
In other news, my novel
received no reviews over the last month and it should have been rejected. For
some reason undisclosed the publisher granted an extension. What another month
will do for me in their system of review I couldn’t say. In thirty one days no
member took the time to read and review my work and another month may be just
as fruitless.
This is a moment of
darkness for me. I have no bed to sleep in and my hope is lost in the darkness.
Oh well, I do as I have before and square my shoulders to the task ahead.
March on, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
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