My Family, My Clan

Family is a mixed up concept for me. I often struggle with the thoughts of whether my emotions are connected through an intangible bond or from man-made expectations. I understand the biology, the nature, but I have also witnessed the nurturing bond that families produce as they take care of one another. I even understand the bond that survival produces – when people are thrown together in violent or volatile situations. Yet, all this understanding doesn’t answer the question of why it hurts so much to be rejected by those we expect to love us most. Is it some unseen bond that has us endure that which hurts us, or just stubbornness?

I’m a beautiful woman. I’m adored by many. I’m pursued by several and even have inspired arguments, fights, and jealous disagreements. Yet by those who are supposed to love me most, I’m rejected and unwanted. But, don’t judge my ‘family’, because the feeling is mutual – I reject and do not want them either. I’ve often felt guilty for feeling this way. Many of the people that have come through this life often try to make me feel guilty for feeling like that, but I’m honest about how I feel. I always have been, and that’s not something easy to face.

There is this group of people that have come into my life recently where I feel such a deep bond. I question if it’s because I’m in survival mode and I’m bonding with them for that reason, or is it because they nurture things in me that have been long neglected. They adore me. They make no secret I’m wanted, I’m needed, or even that I’m desired. This group I’m talking about is my Destiny clan, Omega Victrix Mortalis. They’re my family, and like all families, they are a motley crew of one mess after the next. It’s like we are the clan filled with misfits, rejects, and the misunderstood. What makes us different from the other clans we meet in the land of Xbox Live, is because we care about each other as people.

Recently my beloved clan has endured a division where a couple members (family) cared more for the game, more for the power and control, and more for the stroke of ego than for the people behind the controllers. My gameplay is important, something I often struggle with much stress and trepidation, but it’s the lives behind the controllers I care about most. This split hurts because I have to watch more people I care about walk out of my life. I will stand by and watch them go, because I’ll never be where I’m not wanted. I’ll never want or force someone to be around that doesn’t want to be around. Just because I’ll stand to the side, doesn’t mean I don’t feel the pain of that separation, or the rejection.

For those who have remained, they’ll never know how much they mean to me. As I mentioned before, we’re a group of misfits, but this bunch of misfits have some of the greatest hearts I’ve ever met.

Phoenix Mortalis – (the defender) is a young, twenty-year old, gorgeous, shy college student, studying to become a CSI agent. He’s loyal. He’s sensitive. He notices the little things. Though a girl getting upset makes him very uncomfortable, he’s always there, even if it’s being there in silent comfort for those in his circle. He’s a true knight in shining armor, willing to risk everything to protect, to defend, or to support. He’d make a great soldier because he already has the natural instincts of a defender. He has a tight inner circle and guards it well. But, if you’re lucky enough to get inside that circle, you’ve truly found a beautiful treasure of a friend. He’s a great player. I watched him do amazing things with a broken controller. The greatest was his determination. I watched him do amazing things with limited abilities, and since he’s regained a lot of those abilities, he’s gone on to do even more amazing things. He reminded me of how wounded soldiers who never let their disabilities define them, but strengthen them.

iTz CriMSonDxsk – (the nurturer) is a young, twenty-year old, gorgeous, shy college student, studying to become a Surgical Technician and currently works as a transporter at a hospital. He’s also loyal and sensitive. He’s an Empath – he feels what others feel around him. He’s one of the best gamers I’ve met so far, a beast in the battlefield, and there isn’t a feat yet I haven’t seen him unable to accomplish. He’s a natural. He’s humble. Yet he desires no power or praise for his acts. He doesn’t seek the limelight but prefers to sit in the shadows, yet is unable to hide in obscurity because he’s in great demand. Players constantly seek him out to join them because he’s the best. He’s greatly misunderstood, often thought of as naïve, but he’s much more complex. I see a great man in the making. There’s no ego, just a quiet confidence.

RevertantPath – (the counselor) is a young, seventeen-year old (going on 40), not sure if he’s gorgeous or not because no one has seen his picture but he has a heart of pure gold (with a dash of trickster), shy, high school student who doesn’t yet know what he wants to do with his life. He’s also loyal. He’s a fountain of information and wisdom. There’s no task he’s afraid to tackle. He’s independent, yet he understands the bonds of our family. He never hesitates to jump in and help someone out, yet never asks for help (because he doesn’t need it). He’s mostly quiet, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. He’s always listening. When he decides to speak (it usually starts with … “So, I’ve been thinking… “) you should pay attention because what follows is always something deep, something profound, something often unexpected from such a young man. He’s left me speechless many times. He’s not afraid to confront, yet chooses his moments with precision. He’s one of the wisest people I know (and I know a lot of them).

iTz CrimSon Jr – (the mascot) is a young, thirteen-year old, who I’m sure is adorably cute, funny, and a big ball of energy. He brings life to the party chat and game no matter what’s going on. He’s a reflection, a symbol, a mirror of who we are as a clan. He loves without question. He trusts without wariness. He’s a treasure to be protected, not manipulated and used. He reminds me what it’s like to be a mother. I miss being a mother, being needed.

The rest of our clan is filled with other wonderful members too. They have their own set of skills and diverse personalities.

CJBIGMAC never fails to make me laugh. I could listen to his silly stories all day, his natural and free responses to every situation, and his KV worship is like no other.
gr3y ninja is often really quiet, but when he gets relaxed and lets out his personality, it never fails to make me laugh. Just don’t depend on him if his girlfriend calls. She comes first.

XxTrsXshoTxX is a little passionate in both positive and negative ways. He’s a beast in the Crucible and a great asset in the raids, and a faithful helper when you just need someone to hang out with to help with missions and bounties. I like to listen to his silly stories.

Oz Bacon is another little trixster like RevertantPath, but he’s also fearless, ready to jump in no matter how big the task.
Set off the DJ is still getting his feet wet, but so far he’s doing a good job. If only I can get him to understand the usage of ‘wilco’.

Deathstroke1997, Phoenix Mortalis’ brother, while busy with school, he’s a great player and never hesitates to jump in and help where it’s needed.

Mike Honcho470 is guy I went on a date with and the whole time talked so passionately about Destiny that I inspired him to go out and buy an XboxOne and Destiny. While this is his first FPS game, he’s got a zeal that’s to be envious. He never fails to make me smile.

Last, but not least, is Godly Furrrball. I love Destiny and the concept of clans because of this gorgeous man. The way he talked with admiration and pride about the boys in his crew stirred a deep need in my heart and made me realize I had an empty space in my own that needed to be filled. My clan has done that for me. I also admired the pit bull in him that would come out to defend his family, even if was against me. He’s taught me a lot. He’s pushed me beyond my limits. He’s broken my heart. Hey, he’s family, what can I say.

There are other players in the Destiny universe that I play with often whom I also view as family even if they’re not in my clan … (ZeroFX AirB SGT, SxProphet, WARSHAC, OZ Vinyl, UCindian11, ShumateClan(Little Light), logjmr, Blaxican, SkyBlaster, and all those guys in I Am Leg3nd, and my son, JewsDestroy99.

So, what is family? Who is family? How is family defined? I suppose it’s defined by whatever I choose. I choose my Destiny family. I love them dearly.


Till next time,


~KV Kvothe

I Miss You, My Love

I miss you, my love

and the way you used to text

and the stupid little videos

and the never-ending playlists

the games

the rules

the stories 

the lies

You were beautiful, my love

when you were mine

Daily Lessons

Everything in life poses a lesson, even the good things right along with the bad. Having an open mind makes all the difference on what lessons we learn from those experiences.

I can go through my life and tell you good things I’ve learned, and also how I was really stupid at other things. I wish I always chose the right choices, learned the right things, and made the right decisions, but most often it was the mistakes that taught me the greatest lessons. I don’t regret my mistakes… only perhaps the lessons I might have missed along the way.

What are my lessons now? What are my struggles today and what can I learn from them? Again, life poses many struggles for me, but right now the consuming ones would be how to get through the day after losing the friendship of someone I loved very much, how to love the new friends in my life, and how to live in the moment – and to let that be enough.

I can’t change my past. I can’t make someone love me that doesn’t, or hate someone I love. I can’t control what tomorrow holds. All I can do is live the best I know how in this moment, in this day, in this time. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. I’ve died twice, and I can’t help but think I’ve lived for a purpose. Have I already fulfilled that purpose? I don’t know and I honestly don’t care. The purpose will fulfill itself.

In living today… for today… I’ve become very picky about the people I let into my life. Dating is complicated. I hope with every date, but have learned to let that hope leave as quickly with those dates when my princes turn out to be frogs. I’ll find my prince someday, but until then I’m determined to remain content in being alone. Yeah, it’s lonely, especially when I’m cold, or scared, or excited and want to share that excitement, but I’m not without love or friends… or lessons to be learned.

I find out later this month if I’m going to be able to move forward, or if I need to jump into the trenches to take a step back. Until then, I can’t thank God enough for the love, support, and distraction that my Destiny clan, no my Destiny family, has provided for me. I have made some connections that I know will be lifelong family, and I have made some friends that I hope will always be there. Who knows… Destiny may even lead me to the love that has evaded me for so long. In that world… I am KV Kvothe, beautiful, sexy, and a greatly loved goddess. My clan and my friends never fail to make me feel wanted and appreciated. I’m not the best gamer, but I hope I’m the best goddess they know.

What are my lessons during this time? Persistence. Stubborness. Strategy. Loyalty. Clans. Leaders. Romantic gestures. Friends. Determination. Letting go. Breathing. Losing a muse, a god, a hope, a fantasy, a love. … that life is meant to be lived in the moment, to still love the world even when it doesn’t love you back.

Till next time,



~KV Kvothe

To Pursue, or Not to Pursue

I had a guy message me yesterday after not hearing from him for a few weeks.  When I didn’t respond to his message, he posted another text asking why I’m not talking to him anymore. I considered not even answering that post, but reconsidered. Maybe he didn’t really understand the reason for my silence, so I broke it and responded with something like the following:

“I haven’t been responding to your messages because I now realize that you’re not really that into me. I want to feel wanted and I didn’t. I felt you wanted me sexually, but not emotionally. You never called. You barely texted, and I just felt like I was an afterthought. This is the beginning of a relationship and I should be a consuming thought. I don’t want to be someone settled for, but someone desired, pursued… wanted. I want to be worth the effort, the chase, the prize. How can you catch me if you’re not even running after me? I really liked you and was very attracted to you, but I kept waiting for you - until I realized I’m not supposed to be waiting.”

I hope the next woman he meets inspires him to be more pursuant. I also hope the next man I meet will find me worthy and desirable enough for the chase. He is going to have to chase me because I only know how to run.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Specialties and Special People

Everyone has something they’re gifted at, but not all our gifts are blatantly obvious. Some of us rise to great heights and receive lots of acclaim and attention for our gifts, while others’ majesty is never seen by anyone, hidden among the thorns and roses.

Most of you know that I’ve become immersed into the world of Destiny (XBoxOne) and I’m learning some amazing things. Mostly, I’m meeting some really special people with lots of different specialties. I spend a lot of time there in awe at the playing skills of many of the guardians like this one soldier named SxProphet that blew my mind showing off as he completed a solo run of the Crota raid. Since meeting him, he’s done many things that have impressed me beyond measure. I have a great admiration for him, especially the way he leads his clan, I Am Leg3end. They work together in a way that I find simply amazing. Their communication is often silent, yet unquestioning. My heart swells every time I am given the honor of playing with them. I doubt they’ll ever know how much I admire them.

Speaking of clans, Omega Victrix Mortalis is growing by leaps and bounds with lots of new, exciting, and good-hearted Guardians. I admire every one of our members and I’m amazed at many of the things they can do. I am so proud of them and their accomplishments. When I play Crucible with them, I may hold the spot at the bottom of the leader boards, but my clan never fails to take the top three slots. NEVER. I’d bet real money on my boys. They’re really the best and not just because I know them and they’re in my clan, but they really are the best. I’d always bet on XxTrsXShotxX, iTz CriMSondxsk, Revertant Path, PhillyzPhin3st, Phoenix Mortalis, and Manny5173 in any match. EVERY TIME. However, stomping on their heels are gr3y ninja, CJBIGMACK, WARSHAC, UCindian, and KillaCam31787. I’ve only got glimpses of the game play of iTz CriMSon Jr, Deathstroke1997 and ShadowStormlV, but I have high hopes they’re going to give our top players some competition. Of course, KV Kvothe still holds the bottom slot on that leaderboard, but it’s alright… I call it practice, and Lord knows I need lots and lots and lots and lots of practice. Needless to say, Crucible isn’t one of my specialties.

One of the things I do specialize in is DETERMINATION. I may lose a lot, but I never give up. I especially never give up on my friends. Today I’m going to start putting together a raid team. This team isn’t going to be made up of only excellent and amazing raiders like SxProphet and his clan, or some of the other members of my clan like PhillyzPhin3st, but of ‘newbs’ like me who want to learn and isn’t afraid to fail a thousand times to get it right. I’m tired of going into raids and being referred to as the weakest link, not having the right weapons or armor, or as someone that needs to be protected, sheltered, left behind, or carried by other members of the Fireteam. It’s not fair to me or the other raiders. Everybody had to start somewhere. I’ve been in the raids now a few times, and every time it’s been with a different group that completed them in a different way. I’ve learned something valuable with every raid, especially the fact that there are a thousand ways it can be done, a thousand ways that it can’t be done, and a thousand different groups all trying to get it done. There are a lot of us that just need experience. To gain that experience, we need patient people who are willing to try, and try, and try, and try, and try again without getting upset, frustrated, or angry.

Understanding Patience - THAT’s my specialty. I’m a cheerleader, an encourager, and an exalter. I see the weaknesses and failures in others, but I focus on their strengths and their potential. My heart is to see them rise above their current situation or station and reach for the stars, because we all deserve stars. I’m not waiting on a break to come my way, I’m making one. My hope isn’t that this team only learns the skills to be great raiders, but perhaps learn a little bit of that understanding patience so they can be an inspiration for the next group of ‘newbs’ that comes along.

I’m really hoping that some of the expert Raider friends of mine will give my team a little bit of their time to help us, give us some advice, tips, stratagem, or pointers. But if they don’t (and I understand many of them have time restrictions and goals of their own to complete) we still won’t give up. We will just keep doing it again and again and again and again until WE are the expert Raiders.

As long as I’m needed in my team, I will be there. There is only one thing that could ever make me leave. We all have triggers in our lives that sends us running. For me – that trigger is being where I’m not wanted. I NEVER want to feel I’m a burden or a hindrance to anyone - ever. So, a little clue – if you ever want to get KV Kvothe to run for the hills, just make her feel unwanted or unwelcome. I love my clan, Omega Victrix Mortalis, because they make me feel loved, wanted, and a part of the family. They love me because I show them, I tell them, and I make them feel loved, wanted, and appreciated. This is my gift. This is my blessing. This is the part I play. Others lead in other ways – through skill, through knowledge, through their gaming abilities - I lead through compassion. I’m definitely not loved for my gaming skills, but I’m greatly loved by many for my heart.

Till next time,

~KV Kvothe

Inequality in Relationships

Most of us, not all of us, because some of us have to learn things the hard way and do everything backwards and find out through the mistakes we make, have the wrong impression of what equality means in a relationship.

What I mean by equality - is hanging onto the idea or belief that you will receive an equal portion of whatever (love, devotion, honesty, trust) you put into it. That’s never been the case in my experience, yet is it the main foundation to a lot of my disappointment, because it’s what I expected, it’s what I was taught, it’s what I believed.

Case in point: We are told that we will reap what we sow, to do unto others as you would have them do to you, that whatsoever a man sews that also will he reap, that if we want love, we must first give love, so on and etc. Those concepts are right, but my understanding of them were wrong, and that has broken my heart so many times.

Hopefully I can explain it in terms you’ll understand. I’m an honest person to a fault. I believe honesty is the true key and foundation to any relationship (lover, friend, etc), that a relationship built and held by lies and deception will fall apart. In my life, I’ve never been able to heal deep hurts through lies and deceptions, especially in the things that I’ve deceivably thought . Only when I face the truth of something, even the truth that rips my heart into shreds and leaves me unable to breathe, I can only heal from that wound in and with truth. I lie to myself all the time because the lies are prettier, happier, sexier, and easier to believe. But my belief in them, never changes the truth of the situation, only my reaction and perception. Often I believe the lies to keep from getting hurt – which NEVER works and I get hurt anyway, not only from the starkness of the truth, but from the death of the beautiful lie I created. I sometimes miss my lies – because I have a great imagination and made many of them so beautiful.

So, with that said, I don’t lie to whom I’m in a relationship, not intentionally anyway. I’m open and refuse to have a filter on expressing what I feel, what I think, what I want, what I don’t want – even if I’m wrong or make a mistake. I don’t play head games, yet I’m constantly lied to and played for a fool. So, see… there’s great inequality in relationships. I sew honesty, faithfulness, trust, and the deepest of passion and love – but I’m not guaranteed those things in return. As a matter of fact – I’ve become an expert at loving deeply but never being loved deeply in return, of being lied to, of being cheated on, and being untrusted. I’m never ‘the one’. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loved, but there’s something about me that keeps others from falling in love with me. Even my husband of 20 years loved me dearly, respected me enormously, but was never in love with me. I don’t know what it is, I can’t see it, but something is definitely there. It’s my curse.

The funny (sarcasm inserted) part is that when I first start talking to men, almost all of them quickly fall in love with idea of me, my mind, my personality, my ideas, my humor, even my face. I’ve been told on many, many occasions that I’m quite possibly the perfect woman. But, after they meet me I somehow don’t live up to their fantasy and crash hard from their pedestals. I’m not sure where it goes wrong because I’m exactly the same in person as I am over the phone, Skype, text, or email. Most of them are still in my life today and consider me their best friend, their closest confidant, their buddy. Sometimes they even briefly forget they’re not in love with me, until we meet again face to face and they’re reminded I’m not the one. I’ve asked them why or what is it about that changes their minds, but have yet to be given an answer other than “I honestly don’t know.” I have watched them all go on to love other women, who seem to have kept their balance upon their pedestals and make my friends happy. Most of these men still keep in touch and tell me often to keep myself open because my match will one day come, but I don’t believe that anymore.

I get messages, what we used to call love letters, periodically from some of my male friends who tell me they love me deeply and would like to spend the rest of their lives fulfilling all my hopes, fantasies, and dreams. I know it’s not real. Sometimes these messages make me cry. It’s like dangling food in front of a starving child just waiting for them to reach out and grab it, to only slap their hand away and give it to someone else. It’s not equal. It never has been. It never will be. I’ve also been on the other end and did not possess the love others wanted from me, to find it just wasn’t there. I won’t pretend to love someone if I don’t.

Those statements I mentioned toward the beginning of this article are not lies. They’re absolutely true. My previous understanding of what they really meant is where the problem abounds. If I want love, I must first love, because in order to give love I have to first have love. To have love, in order to love someone else, I have to first possess love for and from me. When I love someone else, the love I receive in return isn’t contingent on how much I love them, but on how much love they have in them to share with me. To what measure I receive love from them depends on how much love they possess and how much they’re willing to give. It’s got nothing to do with me. The love I receive - from the love I give - is the love that comes from me. The love I receive from them is only the love they choose to give. The trust I receive - from the trust I give – is the trust I have in myself. The trust, or lack thereof, I receive from them comes from the trust they have in themselves. The respect, the honesty, the admiration, the passion I receive – from all those things I give – is the things that come from me. These things coming from them are contingent on how much they possess for/from themselves.

Bottom line: If these men don’t love me, want me, or desire me - it’s got nothing to do with the measure of love, want, and desire I have/had for them, but on how much they already have it in them and how much they want to share it with me. There is no equality in relationships that guarantees I’ll ever be loved, wanted, and desired. I deserve to meet an unselfish man who is willing to give all those things to me. I don’t believe he exists, but it’s what I want and believe I deserve. If they lie to me, cheat on me, reject me, disrespect me, or use me, that too has nothing to do with me – and everything to do with who they are and their personal integrity. Because I’m honest, doesn’t guarantee they are. Because I’m faithful, doesn’t guarantee they will be. Because I’m devoted, doesn’t guarantee they will love me. So, whatsoever a man sews (MY love), THAT (MY love) also shall he reap (I give/get my own love). If I want to be loved deeply, then I must possess deep love – but the love that I will receive will be the love to which I used to love deeply – it’s my own love returning back to me. While I want love from someone else, it’s not within my power to obtain it. I can’t make someone else love me, nor will I ever try. It has to be freely given by their own choosing.

I choose me. Now I just have to figure out how to breathe from being unchosen.

Till next time,

~Breathless in LaLa Land

I Hate You!

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.


I'm done.


I hope one day really soon I'll mean every word with every fiber of my being.

Oh, My Weary Soul

God, this world is so messed up, and I’m broken in so many shattered pieces, there are just some days too heavy for me to bear. I’ve lived in this valley for a long time, actually I think I was born here, and I can’t seem to find my way out.

I’m so tired of saying ‘goodbye’. What the hell is good about bye? What the hell is so wrong with me that I’m never enough to fight for? I don’t think it’s that I’m not enough, but that I’m more than they deserve. Because I know I sure as hell deserve a lot better. I deserve something real, and the world is full of cowards too afraid to be real.

I have scars all over my body. I try to hide them, not because I’m ashamed, but because I also carry the inner scars that were created from them and don’t want to share them with just anyone. People are strange creatures. We’re controlled by our fears, and often can’t see a person beyond their skin. We lie to ourselves and convince ourselves that our faith, our beliefs, our values, or our philosophies guide and lead us in our decisions, but they don’t… our fear does.

I have a friend who says he fears nothing, but he’s lying to himself. He runs as I hard as I do, perhaps even harder, because he’s afraid. But I don’t have to tell him. In the silence, he knows the truth. However, knowing the truth doesn’t keep him from being an asshole. Even still, he’s beautiful and I love him, even though I also hate him for his vanity and cowardice.

I heard a quote this morning from Jim Carrey – “My soul is not contained within the limits of my body, my body is contained within the limitlessness of my soul.” The Journey of Purpose. I believe this. When I look at someone, I look beyond their flesh and try to see their soul. When I tell someone they’re beautiful, it isn’t their body I’m talking about, but their soul.

Who sees my soul? Who can see past the smile or beyond the scars? I believe no one. I’m just the girl who ______ (fill in the blank).

My soul is weary. My heart is crushed. My faith is weak. I’m tired of carrying this mangled scarred body around. I can’t run any more. I wasn’t meant to run, but to fly. I’m lost.

Elusive Dream

Elusive dream, why do you turn into vapor every time I dare to touch your essence? 

I watch you swirl around others, guided by the gentle wind. I can see the euphoric expressions on the faces of those you entice, hypnotize, and fill with your peace. 

But for me, you recoil. You tease me, taunt me, but most of all haunt me, showing me your beauty yet leaving me in the cold, dark shadows. 

Elusive dream, I’ve learned to hate you. Though I long for you, desire you, and love you deeply, I yearn for the sun to ignite and consume you into mist, evaporating my torture along with you. 

The sun refuses to shine and the moon fights for permanent dominance. Without the radiant light my branches wither, my leaves fall, and I slowly die. 

Elusive dream, release the night or else kill me. I can’t take anymore. Please.

~T.L. Gray

All I Want for Christmas ...

Well, it’s that time of year again. The last two holiday seasons haven’t been very ‘joyous’ to me because I’m having this internal struggle with what form I want to ‘celebrate’ the holidays. I suppose my struggle all along has been me fighting against tradition and expectation more than anything. I find myself once again pushing back on this huge, sometimes seemingly insurmountable, block of tradition trying to dictate to me what I should do and how I should feel. It reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting. I always felt out of place because I lived in a world that was nothing like his paintings, yet I wanted that world more than anything. I eventually created that world for me and my family – and enjoyed it for nearly 20 years, but felt like a fraud the whole time.

Everyone has their own experiences and interpretation. For some it’s in keeping the religious observance. But even for those who march to the crusade to keep “Christ” in Christmas against a PC world trying to destroy other people’s faith in their own bitterness, they too fight that same curse of tradition - like everyone else. What I find ‘funny’ (not really funny) is that Christ often rebelled against man’s traditions, explaining to them they lose the heart of their sacrifice in order to keep the observance, thereby invalidating their efforts. In the end, he was crucified because of tradition. It all goes back to Cain’s offering – it wasn’t the offering, but the heart in which the offering was given.

Don’t even get me started on the commercialism of the holiday. It’s really gotten to the ridiculous stage. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a giver. It’s in my nature to give. It’s something I desire to do for those I love, and even the occasional stranger. That will never stop. It’s just who I am. However, I detest being told to give, or being expected to give to people who don’t give a shit about me the other 364 days of the year because I happen to be related, in the same community group, belong to the same church, or work with them. It defeats the whole heart of the giving in the first place. But, with the sales that go on – it’s the best time to buy for those we love. The whole process has become so … hell, I can’t even think of a good enough word to describe it. It sucks the life and joy out of the act… and the pressure it puts on people - abysmal. I have a feeling the commercialism destroys more relationships than it ever helps.

The holidays (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s) were the most fun when my kids were younger. Doing things to see their eyes light up on their faces, watching their joy and excitement as they dress up, pig out, and with sleepy eyes open their presents, and watch the fireworks explode in the night were the best times. It wasn’t about the stuff, or the tradition, it was about the connection.

All I want for Christmas this year is connections. This has been a tough couple of years – lots of changes, lots of adjustments, lots of fear. Walking away from all my security and everything ‘normal’ I’ve known, facing uncertainty every day, and then standing face to face with death - kind of changes a girl’s perspective. I want those simple beautiful moments that make this life worth living – a phone call from a friend to talk to me when I’m having trouble sleeping, a link to a song that touches my heart and reminds me of beautiful things, just hanging out while wrapped in pair of friendly arms so I don’t feel so alone, a friend showing up to spend the day with me killing aliens and talking about nothing important, a silly text from one of my kids, a Skype session with my bestie talking bullshit, or getting annihilated in a game of Words with Friends. These are the things I crave most. I don’t want the world or anything in it. I just want to love my friends and family, and be loved in return.

Someone recently told me they were sorry for not being able to give me what I wanted, to love me like I wanted, yet they never asked me what I wanted. They just assumed my expectations and made the decisions concerning our relationship for me. I had no say. I had no choice. I think they would have been surprised by my answer, but now they’ll never know. It turns out, it wasn’t the relationship they didn’t want that was lost – but the one they already had. It was something precious and beautiful, though I doubt they’ve noticed it’s gone. It’s not their fault – I’m simply unlovable. If I could give them a gift – it would be happiness. But I know I’m not the one who can give it to them.

I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I have no more faith to wish for a tomorrow. All I can see is today. Yesterday means nothing, it’s gone, it can’t be changed, it can’t be re-lived, nor can it be revived. Today is all I have. Today I want love… nothing more, nothing less. If there is no tomorrow for me, know I loved today the best I could.

For those who believe - Christ gave his life for us because he loved us. I know that includes me, but knowing something and knowing something is two different things – and I know nothing.

Till next time,

~Clueless at Christmas

Cowards and Fools

You know, I have fears just like everyone else. Contrary to popular belief, I’m a human being and have emotions. There’s a lot of evil in this world, and I’ve unfortunately faced a panacea of it, and the result is I carry a constant wariness. I’ve learned how to build walls, place distance, and shield myself by saying no and gathering the courage to walk away. Yet, despite my shaking hands, I face most of my fears. I’m not afraid to fuck up, nor am I a coward to own up to my mistakes. So, I find it quite vexing to be surrounded by cowards – people who talk tough, puff out their chests, and project an image of strength. Yet when it comes times to act they run and shoot their arrows from the shadows, negating any sense of responsibility.

Right now I’m fighting the biggest battle of my life and it literally rips my heart in two when I see great men run away in cowardice… over stupid little shit that means nothing. A great man isn’t the one that can hit the hardest or kill the most. It’s the one that can do all those things, yet with the simplest touch of tenderness earn the devotion of his men.

Case in point.

I recently had the honor and privilege of meeting a man who is strong by all outward appearances, even physically he looks like he could tear your head off with relative ease. What attracted me to this man was his sense of authority. When he spoke, those around him listened and followed. He was a natural leader. I got to witness this leadership, not by his words only – but by example. He jumped into the trenches, wasn’t afraid or too haughty to so the menial things in order to help build his team. Oh, he was tough, and spoke tough, and was hot-headed like you wouldn’t believe. I watched him verbally incinerate people like a pit bull. That’s what I compared him with – a pit bull whose growl made all the other tough-talking men sound like puppies in comparison. I was impressed by this, not because of his domination, but because I saw his aggression as passion. Passionate people love deeply and hate magnanimously, but they at least feel. I got to see that compassionate side too… when he stuck around to help a wounded friend. I was colored impressed.

This man’s compassion was also evident in the way he spoke of his friends and allies. The love, pride, and admiration that he espoused stirred up my longing to be a part of it, carrying a hope that one day he’d speak of me with like compassion. I followed this alpha dog around the yard, so proud to be part of the pack, enjoying all the rough-housing, the playful yard fights, just happy being there… until one day he turned around and bit me. At first I thought it was a small nip of correction, but it wasn’t. He got a taste of blood and the next thing I know he’s got me in a throat clamp.

Up until that point, I could understand. I was a new bitch in the yard. I needed to be tested before I could be fully accepted. My presence stirred some of the Betas to become courageous, and because one dared to deny the alpha, he was rejected from the pack. That principal in and of itself, I could understand. But what shocked me is the display of cowardice that followed.

After the big yard fight, and my submission, all became quiet and the Alpha took his spot on his throne and the rest of us all went to our little corners to lick our wounds. Assured by the Alpha and all the Betas privately that all would be well as the sun set, that all was forgiven, that tomorrow was a new day, I woke with the golden light of dawn to an empty yard. The liars moved on in the middle of the night, in the shadows, slinking away like cowards as I slept. Yet, they were far from unified. As they reached the edge of the wilderness, they all scattered like the wind. All but the Alpha circled back to me alone in the yard, promising me that I was part of their pack, and that all would be well when tempers cooled. If not, that I had a place in whatever new pack they formed.

This once beautiful pack that I loved, admired, and was often jealous of their bond wasn’t as it had seemed. For a while I thought I had caused the fissure between them, and the guilt ate at me. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. When taking care of myself was the most important thing in the world, I instead worked tirelessly to try and breach the gap – urging all of them to return to the Alpha without me and make things right – because what they had was worth fighting for, it was one of the few beautiful things in this gray-colored world. But the Alpha disappeared into the forest, leaving the pack scattered.

I know now that the cracks were not created by me or my presence. They were already there and I just happened to be a catalyst that brought those hidden things to the surface. I still believe that there can be reconciliation, but not from the shadows. I’ve moved on and joined another pack, yet determined to remain independent at the same time. My hope is that these young pups return to their Alpha. Life is too short to have stupid shit like this destroy something so beautiful. If they could see themselves the way I saw them, they’d see it’s something worth fighting for.

I’m forced to face the possibility of death as I fight for my life. In this perspective some fights are futile, yet some are worth the pain. There’s enough shit in this world, don’t let this be another piece of it. The beauty of this pack was never about the game, but the brotherhood. Scores don’t mean shit, skill means nothing, and tournaments don’t compare… to the friendship, the love, the support of knowing someone’s got your back, someone’s there when you need them, someone gives a shit whether you’re dead or alive. Trust me – those are the important things in life, they’re what make life worth living. Cowards get hung up on the bullshit, because they’re too afraid to let someone get close. Getting close, means exposing yourself to the possibility of getting hurt. So, instead of putting that possibility on the line – they hide in cowardice – kick out, unfriend, ignore, and run away because that’s the easy thing to do.

I’m such a fool. I know I’ll die a fool and I’m okay with that. In my foolishness, I’ll still love the unlovable, even when they will never love me back. I’ll still love my introverted friends who don’t need me or want me. I’d rather be a fool than a coward, though I’m often both.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

The New Bachelorette: Dating After 40 - Get Back in the Game

After taking quite a bit of a hiatus, I believe it’s time I got back into the game… the game of dating in the twenty-first century after 40. This makes round three??? Hopefully it won’t be three strikes and I’m out, but to be honest …dating is exhausting.

I made some mistakes in the first two rounds that I’m hoping I’m more wise to avoid the same curve balls this time. I’m learning to weed out the players, and how to spot something genuine, something worth fighting for.

Why did I use the word fight? Because every relationship is going to have ups and downs, and if it’s worth anything, it’s going to require a fight to make it work. I can make pretty much any relationship work, and the differences doesn’t come down to the guys – but to me, at least that’s how I’m looking at it. How much will I have to change to make it work? How much of me do I have to sacrifice to make room for someone else in my life?

Before you roll your eyes at that last statement, let me explain.

I’ve been alone for a while now. I needed this time. Though it’s often hurt, and has been extremely lonely, it’s forced me to take care of myself, to put me first, to give me the time to experiment, analyze, experience, and determine who I am, what I want, what I like, and what makes me happy. I love the woman I’ve become. I love all the new experiences I’ve jumped into and the obstacles I’ve leaped over. I regret none of them. I’ve faced death and learned to live. I’ve faced rejection and continued to love. I’ve had my heart broken, but realized it still beats – even battered and bruised. I’ve felt the earth shift beneath my feet and know what lightning feels like. If I felt it once, I can feel it again.

I’ve also learned a few things from my two earlier strikes… I’ve learned not to hold back saying what I feel, no matter the consequences. I’m not ashamed of my feelings, it’s who I am, it’s how I feel. I’ve tried to play the games, but I’m just not a player. It’s backfired. Every time I held back what I felt, not wanting to risk disrupting the relationship, I’ve watched what I wanted slip through my fingers like trying to hold onto water. By the time I found the courage to speak my heart, it was too late and they’d moved on to someone else.

I’ve learned to go slow. I really enjoy those early moments, the messages, the butterflies, the excitement of seeing each other, the flirtations, the getting-to-know you long talks, because those are beautiful moments. I wish they could last forever. For me, those are my most cherished memories – the funny, playful, innocent moments. My fondest memory is watching someone play a video game.

I’ve learned to walk away. I will never again be where I’m not wanted. I lived too long that way and for me it’s a deal breaker, no matter how much it hurts to leave. I will never chase what doesn’t want to be found. I’m devoted in everything I do, and to those I care about. I love my friends and their lives, their problems, their joys, their loves, their wants, their hopes, their dreams … all of it is important to me. I try to be their cheerleader and let them know and feel how much I love them. To someone I enter into a relationship with, I’d be even more devoted, supportive, a cheerleader, an advocate, a coach, a lover, every aspect of their life would be important to me and I’d protect it, do what I could to enrich it, and love them with all the love I possess – in honesty and faithfulness. But, the moment I feel I’m not wanted (I’m not talking about being mad at me – because I guarantee I’ll make you mad.. probably on a daily basis because I’m passionate and have an opinion – but I love a good verbal sparring – it releases endorphins), no matter how much it hurts and rips my heart out, if I’m not wanted, I will walk away.

If I knew, without doubt, that someone I loved truly loved me – wanted me – desired me in their life – that’s going to be one lucky son-of-a-bitch. I don’t NEED anyone. I’ve learned to take care of myself, fulfill my own needs, and to love myself. The person I let into my life won’t be because I need them or need anything from them, but simply because I WANT them, that I choose them, and I’d let them know by word and deed every day how much they’re wanted, they’re loved, they’re desired.

Well, it’s time to get back into the game. I’ve got the bat in hand. Let the dating begin.

Till next time,

~Bachelorette on Deck

No Beauty in Indifference

I clearly remember the day when after years and years of running, I finally stopped, turned around, and faced the God I feared, the God I hated, the God I loved but was certain hated me. I was 24 years old and had already lived and survived three lifetimes, I knew hell, and hell knew me.


I remember the moment I put my nose to the carpet of a little country church, warm tears dripping from the tip, darkening the fibers as they fell. I sincerely prayed for the first time since I was a little girl. I didn’t ask for blessings, or prosperity, or health, or love, or proof of existence, or even a miracle. With every fiber of my being, I asked God to open my eyes and ears, so that I could see something different in humanity. All I could see was the ugliness. All I knew was how to survive monsters, to look for the danger in their words and actions, to assess my risk, to read the body language of liars, crooks, thieves, and predators. I needed to believe in goodness, gentleness, kindness, trust, and love. I needed to see the good potential in people, to be able to see God.


There wasn’t a flash of light or the sound of a trumpet call, but somehow over the years I began to see and hear differently. I still saw the ugliness, the risk, the danger, the lies… but I also saw the potential for goodness, the motive between the lines, love colored with hope and sewn with faith. I begin to love humanity even as we writhed in the midst of our ugliness.


What breaks my heart is how cruel we are to one another. Cruelty doesn’t always come from monsters. The greatest cruelty I’ve ever experienced didn’t come from the hand of a violent predator, but the gentle hand of indifference. To not care, to not feel, to not fear, to not love is a great cruelty. It’s just as cruel as being overbearing in narrow-minded views, excluding those who may think differently or outside their boxed ideas – this includes all religious, political or social mediums. The way humanity treats each other is both great and tragic. I see and hear the good and the bad, love and hate, and the cruelest of them all is indifference. There is no beauty in indifference.


Love me or hate me, but at least feel something. The cruelest act I’ve ever experienced is to simply be forgotten. I seem to be easily forgotten, dismissed, passed over as if I don’t exist. God tells us to love one another. That doesn’t mean overlook our ugliness and blindly cling to false truth and allowing the people we love to continually abuse us – but to see both our sins and our goodness, to see the truth and the lies, and then in the face of that truth choose to love, choose to hope, choose to see the potential for greatness. Forgive. Not forget… never forget, and sometimes walk away if needed, but forgive.


The thing I love most about my friends are not what they do, or what they have done, but what I know they’re capable of doing and becoming, and their capacity to love. We all have sins, failures, attitudes, hurts, triggers, scars, and walls. ALL of us. None are perfect or perfectly good. But with love – all things are possible. That is why I choose to love, to hope, to believe what my natural eyes can’t see or my ears can’t hear. It’s why I still hope when people push me away or put up their walls to block me out, and continue to love them even when they stop loving me. Yes, I walk away, but that doesn’t mean I stopped seeing them for the beautiful creatures, the beautiful, complex, deeply layered human beings that they are comprised.


My faith in God has been shaken, especially these last few years, and especially facing mortality. While I can’t always see and hear who, what, where, when and why… I am still that same young woman with her nose pressed in the carpet and opening her heart to her god, wanting something real, something more and bigger than what she was capable of doing on her own.


So, yes… I’m peculiar, strange, different. I’m a sinner like anyone else. God granted me my prayer. I can see and hear beyond the image, the masks of flesh we project and think protects us, covers our sins, hides our vulnerabilities, and colors our beauty. It was so much easier to hate humanity. Loving them is the hardest of all. Loving them when they don’t love me back is downright cruel. I wish I could close my eyes and cover my ears and go back into the darkness. Instead, Beautiful… these tears now fall for you. I wish you could see what I see and hear what I hear and know… what a beautiful soul you truly are. My last hope is that my god sees me in like manner.


Till next time,


~T.L. Gray

The Image We Project

I really need to stop looking beyond the projected image, because it gets me in trouble every time. Most often it just gets me hurt. I suppose I do it because I have this insane idea ingrained into my head that if I treat others how I would want to be treated it would just magically happen in return. It’d have to be magic, right? Because, seriously, who else walks around thinking about how they treat people? Who spends the time to peel back the layers in an attempt to really get to know someone? Who looks beyond the skin, the image, the resume, the labels, the skills, the talents? I tell myself all the time… “You do, surely there are others.” Well, the magic hasn’t happened yet. I don’t know why I keep getting surprised and hurt, but I do.

I look at the world around me, and I see example after example of a culture and society that can’t even get beyond skin color, much less any deeper layer. We’ve got riots going on all over the country because of racial bigotry and hate (and that’s not aimed at only the ‘white-privilege’ community, but the ‘black-oppressed’ community too). Hate can’t see past the outer shell and it sure as hell don’t solve anything. I don’t want to hear one word on either side of this debate – because at this point all I see is hate, and violence, and stupidity. Whatever efforts were made to open up a much needed dialogue, to peel back another layer, has been destroyed when the fanatics took over and started robbing, looting, burning and acting like dumb-fucking idiots. This whole situation has become lost and out of control and the ones fueling it, stirring it up, are the biggest hatemongers of them all. (No, I don’t want to debate, talk, or discuss it in anyway. Don’t respond to this post with anything to do with this whole issue. I’m done with it. Seriously, I’m done. I won’t engage and you’re wasting your time.)

Want to know how someone feels about something or someone, get them angry. It is how a person responds to adversity that you see them for who they really are, what they really feel, what they really think – things they’ve suppressed, hidden, and pushed down. It doesn’t mean they can’t change their minds – and once felt, always felt is a myth. Feelings change. Thoughts change. Responses change. That’s why forgiveness is so important. Don’t hate them for how they feel at that moment – try to figure out why and then work on changing it. But it does reveal a part of the truth, most often things they don’t want to admit even to themselves. I know it helps me see what I sometimes can’t recognize within myself. When I get angry, I begin to look around to see if I can recognize what hurt me, because 99% of the time my anger is a result of being hurt, most often me hurting myself.

Do I always succeed and rightly recognize my triggers? Hell no. I’m often just as wrong in those assessments as I am in trying to understand the motive behind someone else’s aggression. I’m a hot mess and I know it. I can’t help but wonder, surely there’s others like me. Does everyone have all their shit together, but me? Does everyone else always know the right thing to do, the right way to feel, the right way to respond, the right way to diffuse and understand the situation, except me? Does anyone even give a damn to find out what’s beneath this outer layer? Can they see the eyes behind the mask, or just the shiny glitter on the outside? Can they see the pain behind the smile?

I just want to close my eyes. I want to be like a turtle and hide within my shell. Most of all, I want to stop feeling, stop caring, stop hoping, stop loving. My cruel blind father introduced me to many of the evils in this world, but he also taught me how to see it differently – not with my eyes but with my mind and my heart. My invalid mother with MS taught me the cruelty of guilt, but also by taking care of her the beauty in sacrifice. My weak brothers taught me the stark reality of betrayal, but also what it meant to protect. My indifferent husband taught me the pain of being unloved, but also the pride of being faithful and dutiful and the strength to love myself.

It’s hopeless. I want to submit, but submission requires trust, and trust is something I don’t think I can ever give. I’ve tried. Damn, I’ve tried so many times. I’ve failed. I don’t even trust myself. My fear, my stubbornness, and my lack of trust – keeps me doing the stupid shit that causes people to get angry and push me away and makes me run. Oh, I run. It’s what I do best. I try so hard not to run, because I know running doesn’t solve the problems, just packs them down deeper so they can surface and cause an explosion that ruins any progress I might have made. Yet staying – staying incites hope, and hope leads to pain. It’s painful to hope for something and then watch that hope die. Faith has you believing you’re something more than what you’re not, and it’s awfully painful when you’re made of aware of how you’re really perceived, what your true standing is in someone else’s sight.

I love myself. I think I’m a beautiful, passionate, loving, faithful and honest person. I love to laugh, and I really love to make others laugh. I’m a natural cheerleader. I truly care about the people I’ve chosen to let into my inner circle, which is small, tight, and something I protect with vivacity. I’d do anything to protect them. Everything I am, everything I have, every gift, talent, and knowledge I possess, I share with them – without hesitation – as long as I’m wanted. I’ve lived too many years giving to those who didn’t want me… I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t. Finding out that I’m no one to those I deeply cared for, that I’m nowhere near as precious to them as they were to me… takes my breath away. I literally can’t breathe. But I will. I will inhale …and exhale …and wipe the tears away …and go on with my day.

Till next time,

~Breathless

Family

I’ve written maybe a dozen blog posts in the last week but haven’t posted them and never will because they’re just too painful. This time of year is really hard for me, especially lately as I’ve had a brush with mortality. I can’t lie, there are days I miss some of the things I enjoyed in my old life, the holidays are one of them. The holidays are about family.

Family
What does that mean? Come on, what does it really mean? I learned a long time ago that being related to someone doesn’t make them family. I’m related to a lot of people, mostly people that have hurt me, lied to me, stole from me, abused me and used me – all in the name of family, as if that word gave them carte blanche to do what they wanted. I look around me today and laugh, because it hurts too much to even cry about. I’m done. I’m truly done.

I have no mother or father. I have no brothers or sisters. I have no husband, no in-laws, no aunts, no uncles, no cousins, no nieces, and no nephews. I have no church family. All these people told me (or never told me, but were supposed to) they loved me. They lied. Empty words mean nothing. Words lie, but actions speak the truth.

Yes, I’m the one that ran. I’m the one who opened the door and walked away. I’m the one who closed the door behind me and invited no one to come along. I’m the one who finally decided to love herself and realize I didn’t have to take their shit and listen to their lies anymore.

Not one tried to stop me. NOT ONE.

But I am not without family. I actually have a beautiful family of my own choosing and its getting bigger every day.

I have my children, Meagan, Johnathan and Kelly. I love them more than life. I have no doubt they love me. I don’t get to see them much because they’re adults now and living their lives and making their way in this world and I’m not about to try and control them. I’m here for them if they ever need me. But I won’t let them use me, nor will I ever use them. I’ve enough bitter taste in my mouth from my own family to ever subject my children to such selfishness. I would give them the world, but I know they’d only appreciate it if they gained it by their own strength. It’s hard sometimes to back away, let them fall, let them make their mistakes, let them run headfirst into disaster. A mother wants to make their children’s lives easier, to spare them hardships, to protect them from the vultures. But, it’s the only way they’ll truly learn to stand on their own. The best thing I can do for them is to let them know that I love them, mistakes and all. They could never do anything to make me stop loving them. I know the pain of being unloved. I also know the strength in being loved. I may not support everything they do, but I will always support the persons they are… and show them I love them no matter what by being honest with them. I miss them. I mostly miss the sound of their laughter, seeing their faces light up on Christmas. The parts that really tear me up – I miss playing card and board games with them, showing them how to play in the rain, how to slip and slide on the kitchen floor, the clean-up game, the poker matches, the morning cuddles before school, the book debates (Snape is still the hero Johnathan), riding around looking at ‘kismas-ights’, laughing till you can’t breathe at all the Ozzies going ‘moo’, the swimming pool, and all the long talks about everything.

They are my family and I regret nothing I’ve sacrificed for them.

I have other family that have been with me these last couple of years. One is a crazy-ass writer in Washington who frustrates the hell out of me, but who I admire so much. No matter what I do, how much I try to run, how much we argue (and we argue all the time), Jeff also makes me laugh like no one in the world, makes me feel safe, and is always there to encourage me in my lowest moments. He tears me down too and has hurt me more times than I can count, because he’s not perfect and overly opinionated, but he’s real. I don’t doubt his love for me, nor my love for him. He is my best friend. I never see him and may never lay eyes on him (except when we Skype), but he is my family and always will be. He showed me what a true friend is like.

Another is a crazy-ass woman in Florida who lives with her crazy-ass cute dog. Jenna understands me more than anyone in this world. She knows when to push and when to back away and loves me in the middle of my craziness. I love her and all her craziness. She’s my conscious. I share everything with her because I can trust her with the most delicate part of me – my heart. I don’t share my heart with anyone, because I don’t trust them, but I can trust her. She knows all my sins, all my faults, all my fears, all my failures… and yet she seems to love me anyway. I’ve never seen her (except on Skype), but she’s my sister in every way a sister should. She’s family.

There’s a valiant soldier who has the thickest walls around his heart I’ve ever seen, (maybe even thicker than mine) but for some reason he let me into his circle. We’re not close, yet very close at the same time. Emilio touches my soul and I’ve seen a peek at his, and it’s beautiful. He’s a muse for me. He’s a hero to me. I respect him, love him, and want to see him happy. He’s young with an old soul. He’s wise well beyond his years. He’s smart – oh, man, is he smart. Most see no further than his beautiful smile, but I’ve seen his beautiful mind. He makes me think and see life differently. He’s family, and so is his little brother, Michael. I love them both, deeply.

I’ve added a few new members to my family lately. Though they’re recent adds, they’ve already stolen a huge part of my heart – they’re my clan ‘We Are Immortal Gods’. They pick on me, haze me, and tease me more than a pack of angry dogs, but they also surround me, include me, and make me feel wanted and a part of the team. This is MY family, one of my own choosing, not one chosen for me. Though I’ve felt abandoned by God lately, I believe He sent them to me, because our coming together makes no sense, yet it feels right. This is a tight group and they don’t let just anyone in, yet they invited me without hesitation. I’m sure I’ve left them often scratching their heads, making them wonder what they’ve done. They make me think of a pack of wolves – there’s an alpha who leads them, but they move as one, hunt (play) as one, fight with each other on a daily basis, yet defend one another in the blink of an eye. They look out for one another. I already think of them as family and they’re mine… my Flop, my Crimm, my Haze, my Phoenix, and my Furrrball. I’ll fight with them, but I’d also defend them, and will always be there for them however I can. My door will always be open to them.

I have lots of other friends that I consider extended family, cousins perhaps, and I love them too.

I may be alone during the holidays, but I’m not without family. I will toast to them on Thanksgiving because I’m thankful they’re in my life, whether through writing, skype, or video game. My Christmas wish is for their dreams to come true. My New Year’s Resolution is that they find happiness. My Prayer is that they each know they’re much loved.

Happy Holidays,

~T.L. Gray

Someday, Someone

Adaptation

Life is liquid. It moves. It’s constantly changing. It has a starting point, a birth, yet constantly flows toward an end, a death. Along the way there are lots of turns, twists and metamorphoses - sometimes lazily moving at a trickle, and other times it becomes a raging river.

Sometimes I welcome change. Other times I hate it. Most often I’m scared of it. It has a way of bringing beautiful things and people into my life, but at the same time it also has the power to remove them. No matter what I tell myself, I have no control to stop the movements of in and out. The tighter I try to hold on, the more it hurts when it’s ripped from my hands.

I’ve done so many great things in my life. I’ve accomplished so many great things. I’ve also failed and lost just as many. I’m just as scared as the next person. Giving up is not an option. What mask do I wear today? I’m learning, it’s whichever one I need most.

I’m learning so much from being immersed in my world of Destiny and among my clan, We Are Immortal Gods. Maybe perhaps not learning, but being reminded. For instance – I’m remembering essential things through the simple act of trying to upgrade my armor and weapons. Having the right equipment, the right weapons, the right tools, makes a huge difference in my failure or success in a strike, a patrol, or a raid. The more durable, the more powerful, and the more accurate my shot – the better my chance, the lesser my effort, the higher opportunity for success. But, ill equipped, unknowledgeable, and inexperienced works against me and makes things so much harder. However, I’m one of the most stubborn people I know. I don’t give up – well, I don’t give up easily.

I’m running around with a bunch of pros. It’s humbling, yet it’s frustrating at times. It’s also what I need. While I often feel really bad for being a nuisance and a handicap to my clan as they make their way through their challenges, my admiration grows for them greatly with every invite they send. My natural response when I feel a burden is to run. That inner demon that tortures me – using the voices of the past to whisper in my ear of how I’m not wanted, I’m not needed, and I’m not welcomed is working overtime. I have to fight against those voices and trust in the bond of my clan that they do want me.

I want my clan to be proud of me. I want to become as skilled as them and a force to be feared and reckoned, not the butt of a cheesy joke. I want to be able to stand beside them in battle with pride, not be hid in some corner to be protected. The unfortunate truth, one that I’m forced to admit to myself, is that right now I need to be protected, both in the game and in real life. The game is teaching me that though I may not currently be properly equipped or have the strength to stand on my own, or the skill to make a difference (though I will not give up and will continue to increase those skills) – if I open my heart and look around me, maybe I don’t have to go at it alone. I can’t make it alone. Life, just like this game, was meant to be lived, to be played, cooperatively.

In my stubbornness, in my pain, in my fear, I have pushed everyone away in my life. I have run. I have hid. I have built my walls. I have worn my masks. But it’s time to stop running, to get up, put on my armor, and fight back. It’s time to adapt. Change is happening. It always is. I just hope I don’t have to face it alone.

Till next time,



~T.L. Gray

Where, Oh Where?

I had a dream last night that I was on Earth in the Destiny game, only I wasn’t my avatar, EviL Kovthe, I was me – I had no weapons, no armor, no clan (We Are Immortal Gods) beside me to protect me. I was in the treasure room just outside of Devil’s Lair.

Walking around, not worried that Dregs, Shanks, Knights, or evil Servitors were going to kill me, I took my time to admire the treasure. I picked up handfuls of gold, precious stones, and then lastly - a crown. It was the tiara that got me and turned my dream from something adventurous to something dark.

The jewel-studded headpiece reminded me of the lessons I taught a few years ago on Hagar, Leah, and Abigale… and the huge change in my life when I realized I was the same as these great unloved women. This deeply researched lesson changed my whole life. It was the foundation for the decisions I made to seek out something better for myself. I reached out to change my stars, but I haven’t really changed them at all.

I positioned myself to be free, and I essentially am. I can go anywhere, live anywhere, and do anything. I’m not saying making any of those decisions wouldn’t take hard work, a lot of sacrifice, and come with a great deal of difficulty… on the contrary, I expect any decision I make will be fraught with them. All of life is hard. I’ve already overcome so many obstacles, why would I ever believe that I’m done? (LOL – “I’m done”… that’s become one of my favorite phrases now. It’s something every member of my clan says regularly.)

So, why haven’t I moved, why haven’t I left? Why am I dreaming of standing in the Devil’s Lair holding a tiara? That question has been plaguing me all morning. As I was brushing my hair, getting ready for work, that’s what I asked the reflection smiling back at me in the mirror, “Why haven’t you made a move?”

It’s simple: I don’t know where to go.

I’ve learned a lot of important lessons in this life. I’ve learned that stuff doesn’t matter, everything can be replaced, and what can’t be replaced, can be altered or modified. Things are nice. I.e. – I love my XBoxOne. I love Destiny. But it isn’t the game system or even the game I love (though the game is awesome), but what they enable that I love most – interaction with my son, my friends, and my clan.

Spending time playing games together with my son Johnathan – that’s our special time, that’s how we bond with one another, it’s how we share our lives. Working and watching football games with his dad is their thing – and playing video games, sharing music, and playing poker together… that’s ours. It’s the sharing of our lives that’s important, not the stuff or even the activities. With my daughter Kelly, it’s playing cards and visiting Atlanta. With my daughter Meagan, it’s sharing books.

I’ve learned that success, position, fame, and money can be gained and lost, and none of it really brings you happiness. The happiness is in the pursuit or the sharing of those milestones. Yes, my college degree opens Doors of Opportunity, but it’s the journey that means something. When I got my degree – I was alone. I had no one to share the celebration with, well, not till later that night when my soldier showed up unexpectedly. But then he went off and died and left me alone again. When my book hit the best sellers list, even if it was short-lived, I was once again alone. All my friends that meant the world to me literally lived in different places all around the country– but were not there with me to share that moment. When I left my husband, I’ve really learned what it means to be truly alone.

Here I am about to face one of the most difficult journeys of my life – and I’m once again alone. I have dear friends who support me, who love me, who worry about me, and who are there for me emotionally as I face these battles… but they’re not beside me. I’m in that damned treasure room all by myself.

My gaming clan is reminding me of so many things. Most of all, they’re reminding me what’s important in life. They’re reminding me to laugh, to have fun, to be open to make new friends… but they’re also teaching me the importance of bonds, of trust, of camaraderie, of having someone’s back, helping each other out, being there – not just in thought – but being right beside each other as we fight our battles. For much of the game I’ve tried to go it all alone (it’s my thing – it’s what I do… in life and in fun). But, this game wasn’t created to play alone. (What’s funny… that was told to me by someone who spends more time alone than anyone I’ve ever met.)

What my clan does together is amazing. I’m so glad I’m in their clan, because I’d never want to go up against them. I wouldn’t stand a chance. But the greatest thing they’re teaching me right now – is that relationships are important, connecting with people, having someone there with you – to share in your journey, your experiences, your laughter, your failures, your play, and your victories. That’s what living is all about.

So, why haven’t I moved? Because I don’t know where to go to really live, to be happy, to be loved. Wherever I can find happiness, joy, and love … that’s where I will go.

I’ve sat across a dinner table at least two dozen times in the last few months on different dates, looking into various sets of beautiful eyes, trying to see hope behind warm smiles, looking for the slightest trace of the place I seek - hoping for a connection, waiting for lightning to strike. I could have a relationship with any one of them, but the types of relationships they were offering didn’t appeal to me. Most of them had me going through a mental checklist where I was constantly saying, “been there… done that.”

The universe has other plans for me, I suppose. It seems, the place for me right now that makes me laugh, makes me happy, makes me feel loved and accepted, and helps distract me from the trials ahead– is in the middle of a bunch of crazy guys I’ve never laid eyes on. They remind me of who and what I am… a woman, a friend, a warrior, a nurturer, a buddy, …a human. What I have, what I don’t have, what I’ve achieved, what I’ve failed, or what I’ve done or haven’t done – doesn’t mean a damned thing to these guys. They don’t want or expect anything from me, yet they welcomed me with opened arms. I love them for that… it’s probably one of the few times in my life I feel loved and accepted just for simply being the smart-mouthed, funny, crazy me.

Where, oh where, do I go right now? Well, as often as I can, I go back to the land of Destiny and among the great men of my clan “We are Immortal Gods” until I’m ready to find a connection face to face with someone.

Till next time,



~EviL Kvothe

We Are Immortal Gods

It’s a rainy, dreary Monday morning, but there’s a part of me – a part deep down inside that still dares to hope for sunshine and rainbows; a part that forces my eyes open when I find myself knocked out again; a part that is stubborn and refuses to just give up. Perhaps it’s my inner goddess.

Most of you know I’ve been playing the game Destiny on my XboxOne lately. Even in a video game I’m being reminded of a lot of things that I needed to remember. Some of those things are:

– what it feels like to be at the bottom when everyone around me seems to have everything mastered. Just because I’m not as skilled doesn’t mean I’m bad.

– what it’s like to feel excited again, playful, sexy, and funny right in the middle of a fierce battle and a group of confident veterans. It’s hard to just be yourself in every situation. Here lately I’ve felt like I’ve had to hide who I am, once again become what was expected of me, instead of just being who I am.

– what’s it like to face impossible odds, knowing I don’t stand a chance, but give it my best , and keep fighting until I reach the end. Being a sore loser isn’t an option. I may not be as skilled NOW, but I’m not a quitter. I’m not a loser because I refuse to quit. I may or may never be the best – but I’m already a winner.

- what it’s like to be reminded there are kind people still in the world.

I met a group of guys from the We are Immortal Gods - clan. Our meeting was by happenstance when Evil Flopic invited me on a raid (which I’m sure everybody else on the team shakes their head at him now for doing - but they should forgive him because he knew not what he was doing). I have a feeling our meeting was not by mistake.

Watching these guys play, listening to how they interact with one another, how they help one another, how they bust each other’s asses, yet how they band together - is so inspiring. There’s a brotherhood with this group of strangers that is so beautiful I often become jealous of their closeness. They’ve been together for years and through many different games. That closeness isn’t a recent event, but one that took years of making.

My heart is overwhelmed at how quickly they accepted me into their clan. And they just didn’t accept me to accept me (they are only a clan of 6 – and have been for a very long time – so it’s not like they’re accepting everybody, because I’ve seen them play with a dozen or more new ‘friends’ but not extend a Clan membership invitation - which makes them accepting me that much more precious).

This clan has spent countless hours with me, bringing me into raids, strikes, and activities that are inconvenient and often a detriment to them. They do it for me – to help me level up, to teach me how to fight. They have patience with me, and grace – because of my inexperience I bring their whole team down and they have to pick up my slack – and in the gaming world points, status, records, awards … are all important.

These are not mild gamers but players at the top of the leader boards. I go on Crucible Control raids with them, and seriously EVERY TIME the members of my clan (I love the sound of that) are at the top of the leaderboard and have the highest kills and k/d ratios. I’m of course (not always, but most of the time) at the bottom of the list. I’m sure I’m the single reason for a few (there have only been a few) of their match losses. But they’re patient with me and never hesitate to invite me along. They smack talk and give me a hard time (I love it) – but they’re also equally encouraging. The running commentary would have your stomach aching from laughing so hard (don’t get Furball started on the 1-death/1-kill record in a Crucible match). If they didn’t pick on me, I wouldn’t think they liked me. Even if they never said a kind or encouraging word, their acts of inviting me along says more to me than they’ll ever know or could ever say.

These guys may never know (because I’m not telling them) how much I needed them at this time in my life. I didn’t know I needed them until I was right in the middle of them. They’ve become my family even if they never know it.

· The leadership and confidence of Wicked Furball is so inspiring and sexy as hell. When I hear him barking orders and watching the rest of the clan jump into action, he reminds me of a soldier leading his platoon. He’s decisive and direct, not to stroke his ego to be in control, but to lead his team to the best possible victory. He doesn’t need any of us and could outplay us all, but he chooses the friendship, the clan, the best interest of his friends over the records. I admire him. I’ve watched others come into our fireteams and try to take control for control’s sake, but Furball is a natural leader, not in an alpha pissing contest way.

· The organization of Evil Floptic is the glue that binds and keeps everyone together (and occasionally he’ll mess up and invite some crazy-ass woman to join them on an impossible raid and expose them all to something they were not expecting. Isn’t that how the Black Plague wiped out 1/3 of the population?)

· Phoenix is my Battle Buddy. He’s always right there with me, covering my ass, checking up on me, hanging back to make sure I don’t get lost, and when I do, he’s the first to come back for me and lead me where I need to go. He ALWAYS asks me what I need first, before letting me know what he needs to work on. I can depend on him and not feel apprehensive to ask him for help, or feel like I’m bothering him if I connect to him, and that is one of the most valuable aspects I admire most.

· ZeroFX AirB SGT – though not a member of the clan, his silent patrol missions are something else.

The guys brought me for the first time into the Vault of Glass raid yesterday. Oh, it was so intense, and I know I caused distraction and more work for them (by not being able to defeat my share of enemies and having to be rescued and revived more often than the rest), but I nearly started crying (which I would never, never, never let these tough guys ever hear me) when I heard every last one of them (6 in the team) tell each other to revive or rescue me at different points during the raid– “Don’t forget about the girl. Go get the girl. Check up on the girl. Where’s the girl? Hey, the girl’s still alive.” With all the chaos going on – this WHOLE group watched out for me and watched over me. I know I’m being such a girl right now – but that says more about THEM than me.

There are other friends I fight with in Destiny that mean a lot to me that are not part of the clan, but I consider them maybe cousins… LOL… xxTrsXShoTxX, PhillyzPhin3st, KILLER RIP 001, JewsDestroy99, Agent Lead, xLastxHero, Carnassis, and others.

Destiny guardians are just another social community of people with similar loves and interests coming together. Much like the wonderful writers I’ve met on Scribophile and Facebook, I’ve now met another branch of the family.

I will end this post in the words of my (I get to say that because I’m part of the clan) fearless clan leader (and I’ve heard the rest of the clan use it as well… ) “I’m done. I’m done, I tell ya. Done!”

Till next time,



~Kvothe09

What Does Your Rockwell Look Like?

I love Norman Rockwell paintings. I think they’re probably some of the best artwork out there, in my opinion. I’m by no means an art expert, but his work NEVER ceases to make me stop, pause, ponder, and feel. Isn’t that the purpose of an artist? I’m an artist too – I paint with words. Sometimes I produce masterpieces, sometimes garbage, most of the time it’s something in between.


Anyway.


How we see the world, how we see truth, how we see each other, how we see nature, science, faith, justice… all these various views stem from who we are, where we are, and what we have, are, or will experience in this life. How I see things today is not how I saw them at 5, or any age in between. The pictures have been colored in more, the lines have become more defined, delicate and broad brush strokes have been added, techniques have been developed and experience has happened. Also, time has moved – aging the older paint, making the fresh paint even more prominent.


I think about death and life. I step back and look at the picture I’ve painted. There are a lot of black and white, sharp images, dark images, but there’s also vibrant colors, soft strokes, and beautiful pastels. But what does the big picture show?


The way Rockwell is able to capture a time, place, feeling, and ideal in his art, you can clearly see the story he’s trying to tell – and it’s a beautiful story. It’s an ideal story, one that I’ve longed for most of my life. In my crazy, mixed up, violent world – I’ve always dreamed of a Rockwell existence. I almost had that kind of world, once. I had all the appearance – the look, the sound, the image, the right job, the right family, the right standing in the community. The only thing missing was real passion and love.


Why are we such cowards? We cling so tightly to our ideals, we miss moments of adding a beautiful stroke of brilliant color to our pictures by being afraid to love one another. We think love makes us weak, but it’s our greatest strength. Love is what makes all the difference. Love is what colors our pictures. I may not live to see tomorrow. Every day is a gift. I don’t want to die alone and unloved, or having missed an opportunity to love someone else. We only get one life. There is no do-over. Paint your life with lots and lots of love – and throw all that other garbage (expectations, philosophies, religion, tradition, rules) out. What does your Rockwell look like?