The Writings of a Dyslexic

Slowly she worked the knots out of his lower back trying her hardest to ignore when her fingertips brushed over one of the many scars upon his back. Some she had even treated the best she could when he had shown up hurt and refused to go to the hospital. She longed to ask just where they came from, but past experiences taught her that it was no use to ask him. He would never answer her. Her fingers brushed over a couple of scars that were clustered together. "I got that one when I was twelve. My dad threw a glass at me for making too much noise while I was playing in the sprinklers in the backyard." She nearly jumped when he first had spoken. She had thought he had fallen asleep. In fact, that had been the aim of giving him the back massage in the first place since upon his arrival here it appeared to her that he hadn't slept in days. Something about the tone of his voice also worried her. Just what had happened to him in these past few days? Her fingers ran over anothe...

The first post covered how Dyslexia affects me when I read. It is kind of hard to explain and as such the post wasn't very long nor had a whole lot of detail. The reason for this is because unless I am reading out loud most of the time I don't notice myself making mistakes unless the sentence ends up not making sense to me. With writing in general it is a whole lot easier for me to point out and even describe how it affected me growing up. Remember this from the first part? ... when they found out I was Dyslexic and my mother asked what could be done to help me their answer was a simple one, "Be glad that computers are coming out with spellcheck." What they said about being glad that computers are coming out with spellcheck now would be something I would grow to absolutely loathe. Before we get into that, however, let's start with my younger years as the issues with spellcheck wouldn't really crop up until much later. When I was little there was this Hook...

He was the type of boy that everyone avoided. The one who sat in the back of the classroom with the hood of his sweater pulled up to shut out the rest of the world. The type that would avoid anything that required him dealing with another person unless he couldn't help it. The one that at some point chased away what few friends he had left with harsh words and just plain ignoring them. He had placed masks up as guards from the rest of the world. To keep anyone and everyone from having any interest in him whatsoever. At least that was what he told himself. In truth, the masks were there to hide the physical pain he suffered and the desperate cry for someone to help him that always went unanswered. To hide just how much he was helpless to save himself from the situation he now found himself in. These masks he swore never to remove for fear of what would happen if he did. She was the type he avoided more than anyone. He had seen her a few times on the campus but had never really pai...

I know something that people complain about a lot is finding themselves distracted while trying to write. Being ADD myself I often find that I am distracted by other things when it comes time for me to sit down and write. Whether it be the internet, people, pets, hunger or other miscellaneous things it gets rather annoying and sometimes may build up so much that we might even find ourselves procrastinating. Some of these are going to be obvious I will admit, but we sometimes miss the obvious. Thus I am writing this blog post in hopes that someone, someday, might find even one of these useful. Do not start writing on an empty stomach; I don't know about you guys but when I get hungry I have a bad habit of wandering off in search of food sometimes never going back to what I started. Thus I try to schedule my writing periods right after I eat or sit down and write while I'm cooking. If you are the type that gets drawn into your stories for the sake of your food do not write w...

The smiling face, the happy girl who never said anything bad about anyone, her cheerful nature that could brighten anyone's day. They were all just a mask. A mask she wore to hid what she was truly feeling. To hide the pain she had suffered because of what others had done to her. The sadness bottled close to her heart that never seemed to leave no matter how much she tried to pretend that it wasn't there. Finally, the anger she had for herself and others that she did not know how to express because she was afraid what would happen if she did. So many layers of masks she had applied to herself that even she began to wonder if she truly knew who she was. There was one person, one solitary person in her life that could peel back the layers and find the girl hidden beneath them. The problem was she didn't know if she could trust him or not with that girl. Just as she had her layer of masks he had his own and unlike him, she never seemed able to get past them. His words of comfo...

They await within the Darkness of your mind. Just for that one moment when you happen to make a small mistake. That is when they pounce in an attempt to drag you down with them, but it is not that simple. For them to get what they want you have to give in to them first. They will circle you like vultures and whisper vile things to your already weakened mind. They will tell you that you are worthless. That you will just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. These demons will tell you anything to bring you down. From the darkness they whisper that the small Light you can see is nothing but a lie. An illusion to force you to continue forward when really there is no reason to. All these and more they will tell you in an attempt to get you to submit to them. At first you will tell yourself that they are wrong. If given a chance you could redeem yourself from the mistakes that you have made. That you indeed have worth in this world. Or you will simply choose to ignore the...

The other day I told my mother about starting this blog. The first question she asked me was what I was going to post on it which was a very good question. My answer was simple; Short stories, poems, the rare artwork maybe (Since I like to draw the characters I write about), book reviews and writing-focused apps/programs. It was at that point that she pointed out that blogs also included a personal aspect of things that affected what they are blogging about. For example, my mother reads homesteading blogs a lot so she told how if one of the homesteading blogger's children went to the doctor and found out they had a food allergy they would write posts about how they had to shift their way of doing things because of said allergy. Going with this flow of thought she said I could write about a few medical issues I had, but I pointed out to her that none of those really affected what I wrote. However, within a few minutes, I realized that I did, in fact, have something that affected m...