When I was little, my grandmother was my heroine. She was a 5 foot nothing bundle of energy with a pretty blonde up-do, and she was on fire for God. While she had her faults, she was a good woman; she kept the house clean, had dinner ready and waiting for my grandfather when he got home from work, and she loved me with all of her heart, and it showed. She taught me many valuable lessons, encouraged me, gave ample praise when I did well at something. She made my childhood magical and steeped it in imagination, adventure and interactive learning; she was a wonderful grandmother. Her intentions were always good, even her intentions of indoctrinating me into her Christian belief system, but the road to hell, as they say, is paved with good intentions.

One afternoon, a long, long time ago, I was watching Disney's “Fantasia,” and “Night on Bald Mountain” came on (http://vimeo.com/7753129), and there were demons, and fire on the television screen. Being that I was only a little girl of maybe 6 or 7, it scared me. I asked my grandmother if that was a real place, and she told me that it was, it was called Hell, and the big scary demon was named Satan, and then she told me, “But you don't ever have to go there. Do you know who Jesus is?” That was the beginning of my indoctrination into the Christian faith as my grandmother lead me through the sinners prayer, afterward celebrating my new salvation with ice cream.

It wasn't long before I was attending church and Sunday School, learning about Jesus and all of the famous children stories from the Bible. In class we memorized songs and scriptures and drew pictures of Biblical things. It was interactive and fun, but the older I became the more I began to question the validity of what I was being told, causing tangible friction between myself and my Sunday School teacher. That's when I decided I was ready to skip Sunday School, and start sitting in the big pews with my mother and grandparents; this was where my “walk with God” became personal, instead of just merely a story told in Sunday School. The preacher spoke with passion, conviction, and in raised tones that made you want to shout “hallelujah,” and “Praise Jesus,” and the praise music charged the room with an enthusiasm comparable to an all out revival. People got up out of their seats and danced, and others became “slain in the spirit,” dozens of people shouting in “tongues”, praising the lord. The first time was a little scary, these people looked like they were on drugs, and I didn't understand, but the longer you're around it, and the more people tell you that this is right, this is normal, you begin to believe it. Shortly after my introduction to the adult world of Charismatic Christianity, I was baptized in the name of “the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” and from what I was told, “sealed by the blood of Jesus.”

If I wasn't hungry for God before, I was now. I studied the Bible as much as I could, and every day if I could I would set aside some time and my grandmother would help me study and learn about God's promises and how to be a good Christian, a good woman, and a good wife. This “Jesus” and “God” person was so wonderful, he filled a necessary void within my life at the time as well, growing up without a father, and suffering abuse by my step fathers, I desperately needed hope, and a friend, I was told that God was “Father to the fatherless” and would take care of me and protect me, where everyone else had abandoned me, I always had a father with God, and someone to be there for me when I needed someone, no matter what, and that's what I held on to the tightest. With my abandonment issues aside, and my desperate need to fill that void, even though I clung to it so tightly, I still couldn't make sense out of all of it, and frequently questioned my beliefs, for various reasons, which I will try to explain shortly.

I found out fairly early on in life that I was attracted to women, which I was told was a sin and an abomination to God. That deeply upset me. I loved the Lord with all of my heart, I prayed to him every morning and every night, I praised him and thanked him and worshiped him, I showed kindness to people, I was a good person with love in my heart, why would he hate me because of this? This caused a lot of turmoil inside of me. I was taught that you have to make the decision to obey the Lord, and deny the “sins of the flesh,” and that if you choose to lay with a same-sex partner, and aren't willing to repent, then you were going to burn in hell. I tried to “pray the gay away.” I can't tell you how many times I asked the Lord to forgive me for my horribly lusty, and sinful thoughts, not just towards women, but men as well, and to sanctify my mind and cleanse it of those impurities. I felt so ashamed of my sexuality, of who I was, and no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how hard I prayed, no matter how hard I wished it away, I couldn't get rid of my thoughts about other women. When I saw a beautiful woman, I would imagine what it would be like to kiss her lips, and make love to her, much like I fantasized about the attractive men I would encounter. To me, this didn't feel wrong, it felt natural, but that feeling went against everything I had been brought up to believe, and I didn't know what to do. I spent many hours and many days, months, just searching my “heart” for answers. This perplexing dilemma led me to my belief that mainstream Christianity is wrong, if I can't change who I am, that means that I was made this way, and how could a loving God, hate his creation? A seed of truth had sprouted in my soul; a seed that would eventually grow into the vantage point I needed to see the forest beyond the trees.

If the fundamental Christian belief that “homosexuality is a sin and abomination” is wrong, then what else are they wrong about? I began to question everything, after all, if I have questions, shouldn't there be answers? Certainly, someone must have proof to substantiate at least SOME of the these fundamental things I had been led to believe for so many years, or at least someone had to have a good explanation. I got a similar answers from everyone I spoke to, “Oh trust me, He's there, and He loves you, have faith... the Lord works in mysterious ways... trust in Him and let His will be done in your life... we're not meant to know some things... it's impossible for us to understand... there must be a good reason... It says so in the Bible... The Bible is the infallible Word of God, because the Bible says so.” These responses didn't satisfy me, so I began seeking answers for myself, starting with “The Infallible Word of God.”

I started with the history and origins of “The Bible” as we now know it, and the more I began to read and research, the more I began to realize that the evidence AGAINST the Bible being the infallible word of God, outweighed the grandiosity of that claim itself. The foundation of the mainstream Christian belief system was the direct result of The First Council of Nacaea, in June, 325 AD, Emperor Constantine I, invited 250-318 Bishops from across the empire to convene and try to come to an agreement to finally end the controversy and dissent between opposing Christian beliefs and come to a compromise, and what historians now refer to as the Arian Controversy, and was the first worldwide gathering of the “Church.”

“In a savvy move that would put today's shrewd politicians to shame, the compromise proffered by Constantine was vague, but blandly pleasing: Jesus and God were of the same "substance," he suggested, without delving too much into the nature of that relationship. A majority of the bishops agreed on the compromise and voted to pass the language into doctrine.

Their statement of compromise, which would come to be known as 'The Nicene Creed,' formed the basis for Christian ideology. The bishops also used the Council of Nicea to set in stone some church rules that needed clarification, and those canons were the reference point after which all future laws were modeled.

As a final order of business, the bishops decided upon a date for the holiest of Christian celebrations, Easter, which was being observed at different times around the empire. Previously linked with the timing of Passover, the council settled on a moveable day that would never coincide again with the Jewish holiday — the first Sunday after the first full moon on or after the vernal equinox.”

The First Council of Nicaea was the beginning of what is now known as the First seven Ecumenical Councils. These seven ecumenical councils are:

First Council of Nicaea (325)
First Council of Constantinople (381)
Council of Ephesus (431)
Council of Chalcedon (451)
Second Council of Constantinople (553)
Third Council of Constantinople (680)
Second Council of Nicaea (787)

Over the course of 462 years, the Christian faith was pruned, molded, and shaped to fit our own ideas of what religion meant, what “God” was. Christianity of today is the compilation of acceptable beliefs among a gathering of men, men who were separated by centuries from the people who supposedly wrote the “divinely inspired gospels,” men who had their own agendas. That, for me, was enough to validate my fears and suspicions, but it was still difficult for me to let go.

For a long while I kept my doubts and disbeliefs to myself. I was now in my early twenties and my grandmother's health was declining rapidly, so I stopped burdening her with my “spiritual struggles,” she was struggling physically enough herself. For as long as I can remember, my grandmother had diabetes, and she never did maintain it the way she should have. This led to many health problems, including atherosclerosis and peripheral arterial disease. To complicate the situation, shortly after one of her prolonged recovery sessions, she sustained a bump to the foot that would eventually result in the loss of her leg. It had been a week or so since I had seen my grandmother, and decided to drop by the nursing home where she was temporarily staying to visit. I asked her how she was doing, as I always did, she said “Good, but the nurse rammed my foot in the vent grate on the wall, and it REALLY hurts.” I asked if I could look and I assisted her in removing her sock, and there on here toe, where she claimed the injury happened, was a dark patch of skin; this was the beginning of my grandmother's own spiritual battle. As the days progressed, the once small patch of dying tissue on her big toe became much bigger, her entire toe was black and the rest of her toes were beginning to follow suit, my grandparents, being deeply rooted in their Christian faith, prayed diligently in the name of Jesus that my grandmother's foot would be healed, because “blessed are the feet of the preacher,” and “all things work together for good to them that love God.” My grandparents continued to pray, ignoring her doctors suggestion to amputate her toe, before the dry gangrene claimed her foot, and soon, her foot began to die (http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d115/FarSkies/b215713239_zpsfbaff6d7.jpg), I will never forget my grandmother, bedridden, crying out in pain and tears to her God to help her, rebuking her sickness, casting out the devil, and claiming victory “in the name of Jesus”, but victory never came. The dry gangrene was spreading, and now it was on her shin and an infection was setting in; they had no choice but to amputate. I will never forget how my grandmother screamed and cried when she was told that she would be losing her leg, it was a genuine kind of pain, the kind of pain you see on a bastard child's face when their father leaves them waiting on a doorstep, and never arrives as promised. “No!” she exclaimed, “that's not true, that's impossible! My God promised my victory, blessed are the feet of the preacher, why, please God!” She cried in disbelief for a while. She let out her rage, and then, like the silence she was met with, she too fell silent herself, and for a long time she was silent. I guess rationalizing why God had not answered her prayers and her pleas, but I knew why... there was no one there to answer them, and if there was, they weren't concerning themselves with such matters.

Even with having experienced and realized what I had, and even with all of the doubt I held in the Christian faith, Christianity was all I ever knew. I had built my life and marriage around it, I had relied upon it every time I was in need, how could I live without it, what point is there to life if Jesus isn't the son of God? It was a scary place to be, teetering on the edge of my religion and what I knew to be salvation, and this new found knowledge that everything I had been taught was a lie. My first reaction was to pray, and I did, I asked the Lord to guide me, and if there was ever a time in my life where I needed a sign, it was now, “...reveal yourself to me, Lord, I believe, help my unbelief and shatter my doubts, let me know that I am on the right path, reassure me Lord.” I prayed that prayer and similar forms of it for months on end, hoping that somehow “God” would ease my spirit, and encourage my walk with him. I too, like my grandmother, was met with silence. The deep unrest in my “spirit” was never quenched. With words and blind faith no longer being enough to keep me within the spiritual bubble I had been living in, and with no response from the God that I had loved and worshiped for 20 years, I uttered the words I had once thought would never come out of my mouth, not even by threat of torture or death. With bravery and a new sense of awareness I said, “I renounce my religion, and my belief in Jesus Christ.” Just as I had begun my journey with Jesus with a few words, I ended it with a few words, and simultaneously embarked on a new journey towards self realization and discovery.

For a while, I was depressed; without God in my life it was hard to find meaning and strength, but then I realized that all of the times I had relied on God, I was really relying on myself. I was really alone, and I had survived and gotten myself through every difficult situation I had endured. It wasn't God who saved me, it was my own strength. I now had the ability to take my life within my own hands, and determine my own destiny and future, the power and authority within my life was me. Shortly after my renouncement of Christianity, I realized that I, single-handedly, and without the help of a deity, had freed myself from sin, and had delivered myself from eternal damnation, and out of the hands of the true enemy: organized religion. I am now free to be who I am, to love whom I choose to love, and I'm free to do it without shame or fear. Humanity is ugly, we are all testimonies to that, but it is also beautiful; the human experience is beautiful. All of my life I was taught to hate and deny the human part of my being, because it was sinful, for as long as I can remember I have called myself “born again,” but it's only now, after throwing away my religion, that I truly feel like I have been born again. I survived indoctrination, and for the first time in my life I feel free; and I am free, free to embrace my humanity, to take pleasure in my body and my sexuality, and to be, love, and find interest in whatever my heart desires.

Sources:
http://www.livescience.com/2410-council-nicea-changed-world.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Council_of_Nicaea
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_seven_Ecumenical_Councils

Sometimes the justifications others give for their betrayals and wrongdoings makes me want to beat them with a reality stick. My husband's eldest daughter is getting married next year, and she won't let her father walk her down the aisle, claiming that walking her down the aisle is a privilege and just because he's her dad doesn't give him that privilege, which is true, but never mind the 16 years he did raise her and was in her life on a daily basis, I certainly think that counts for something; 16 years of love compared to less than 4 years of real issues within their relationship, in my opinion, doesn't give HER the right to deny him of something he's thought about since she was conceived, I think that's disgusting, and unimaginably hurtful, spiteful, and unreasonably passive aggressive. I just don't understand that, it breaks my heart. My father had never really been in my life and I still offered for him to walk me down the aisle, even after over 20 years of tears and heartbreak, I at least wanted to give him the opportunity. My father did not end up walking me down the aisle, my grandfather did, and he was probably more deserving of that because he was the only steady male role model I ever had, and he loved me. I just don't understand denying a man, who was there the vast majority of your life, the joy and the happiness of giving you away.

These actions will seal the fate of their relationship, and it will shatter it forever, it's salvageable now, but my husband shouldn't be the one putting forth all of the effort to mend it, she's an adult and needs to extend some love and forgiveness as well. He forgave her for unimaginable legal accusations, legal accusations that I feel had a big part in tarnishing the relationship he had with his children, with the assistance of his ex-wife. His ex-wife told him not to contact his children until the "legal investigation" was over, she told him that she would let him know... it was over a year before we found out, from a different source, that the investigation was dropped within the same month, he could have been speaking with his children that whole time, and was never made aware that he could, being that every communication ended with "Do not contact them again or else." She told him not to speak to them, but when his children would ask why he wasn't calling she would blame him as if he didn't want to talk to them, she never called, emailed or texted that the "hold" was over, and that he could resume interaction. I watched that man cry several times a week for over a year because of this, and after that nothing was ever the same, everything was broken. I wonder if they all know that... I wonder. I wonder if they would even listen to the truth if they were given the opportunity, probably not.

With the relationship with his eldest daughter coming to a close, I can only hope that the relationship with his other two daughters can be salvaged. I want nothing more than for all of their hearts to be mended and for them all to find happiness together. If  I could give my husband anything, it would be that.

We all must give love to receive it, you cannot withhold your love and expect love to be given to you... I feel that is what's happening, everyone is withholding their love, for one reason or another, but you can't make sense out of nonsense... if you love someone, give it freely, even if you're afraid to, and if it doesn't come back to you, then your conscience can rest easy knowing that you tried. I hope this situation can be rectified with love and understanding. If they can all forgive each other, I think the outcome will be pleasing to all.

You know, one thing I've learned in my adulthood is that you are only taken for a fool if you allow yourself to be. Sometimes we do this, we knowingly submit to nonsense in a blind faith that maybe this time, maybe this time will be different... maybe this time you will be wrong. Do not second guess yourself, this blind faith relies on the fortitude of others, and the only person you can trust to do what is right is yourself. You cannot rely on promises if they have never been backed up by, not only words, but actions. Words mean very little if they are not coupled with follow-through. We can articulate the grandest of words, and most profound words, most profound promises, but if they are not coupled with actions, then they are the most grandest of lies and deceit.

Common sense isn't so common anymore, neither is respect. You must set for yourself a general and reasonable expectation of conduct, without that you are nothing more than a doormat to other people with whom they can wipe their feet, they can defile your integrity and belittle your importance. There is not a person, a thing, within this galaxy, that can take away your power unless you submit that power to them. People only possess the power over our lives that we give them, the power over our happiness, self worth, joy... they have no power, but the power we give to them to belittle us. You are a magnificent being, you are unique, you are filled with an essence that no one else possesses, you are you. You are not weaker than the next, you choose to relinquish your power, you choose to be mastered... but you do not have to be a slave to someone elses expectations. You are allowed to be who you are, in all of your imperfections, shortcomings and debilitating fears... but that does not mean you are less important, or deserving of the pain you experience.

Courage is not the lack of fear, courage is putting one foot in front of the other, and continuing on in the face of that adversity. Courage is, even when you feel so scared, so... utterly terrified, and yet... you walk on. THAT is courage. We all fear something... we all fear... but do not fear your own humanity, your own freedom, your own self worth... because nobody sets our worth but ourselves, and it does not matter how high another person sets their worth as long as we are honest with ours... and as long as we are honest, we are all equal, unless we choose to set our worth above everyone elses. Don't get me wrong, there are those who, despite knowledgeable understanding, set their self worth higher than others... but it does not matter how much money you make, how "beautiful" you are within societies eyes, not a single one of us is worth MORE or LESS than any other... unless you make it a goal to belittle your fellow man, to condemn them for their short comings. I must admit, there are exceptions, extreme exceptions that are not accepted, and are inexcusable, I myself have experienced these exceptions... but if you ever find yourself wanting and bleeding for strength, a purpose, know that you already have it.

One day, you could be the difference in somebodies life, you could be the weight that changes the measurements. You could be the difference. Mistakes and misfortunes are not for naught, as long as you learn from them, and with the knowledge you learn... my God, you could change a life.

Two old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet
Their blinkers were on, they were merging our way
We braked and waited
We cursed and we hated
Those old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet

Those old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet
Wouldn't get over, no, not today
They weaved and they twined
And we bitched and we whined
Two old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet

Two old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet
Finally merged, but in the opposite way
We flipped them the bird
What they did was absurd
Those old motherfuckers in a red Chevrolet

Posted on my WritersCafe.org profile

I was on Facebook and someone posted a status in a group I'm involved in that began with "So I'm having a real "crap" (<-- word modified) day today!! My butthole (<-- word toned down) husband... etc, etc...", now, this really bothered me, #1 that she was lashing out at her husband publicly, and behind his back for that matter, I'd never dream about doing that to my husband, and if my husband ever did that to me it would just break my heart... and #2, she was expecting emotional support regarding it. This woman is full grown with four children, you'd think that would come along with just a tad of common sense, but of course it doesn't...

I try to live my life straight forward, if I have an issue with you, or if I feel hurt, I will sit down with you and I will explain my emotions and what caused me to feel that way, and we'll talk about it, like adults, privately, and with respect for one another, and if I still feel I need support, or need to "figure something out", I'll speak to a close friend, privately... and sometimes I just need to lay my feelings out in my journal, also private... My grandmother taught me to NEVER air your dirty laundry for the world to judge, and to always keep up appearances out of respect for yourself and your partner, to those you don't know, and only share what you need to with those you love, know and trust, those who have your best interests at heart. I see so many women (and men), posting things that nobody on God's green earth should know about their marriage and their spouse. A marriage is a sacred, private thing, it should not be shared with the general public, not everyone online should have a play-by-play regarding your marital issues... it just - really grinds my gears, I find it disrespectful, and somewhat uncivilized and trashy to do otherwise. It's one thing to say "My husband and I had a disagreement, and I feel..." you know what, scratch that, it's still not right to post your marital issues publicly, I guess unless you are on a support forum board specifically for that reason and you are anonymous...

Just venting... I don't understand people, and sometimes I feel like losing all hope in humanity, for a civilized society, we haven't come that far in regards to healthy communication or maturity... respect even. You have to have respect, not only for yourself, but for others. Some things are meant to be discreet, and marital issues are one of them.

How do you feel about it?

Quote of the Day:
“I don’t like to share my personal life… it wouldn't be personal if I shared it.”
- George Clooney

This is Far_Skies... signing off... until next time...

So a few months back my favorite online playlist site (playlist.com) switched from a playlist format, to a customizable online radio stream (like Pandora) that only offered 3 song skips per hour. I know, right? You're thinking what I'm thinking, they may as well have forcefully ripped off my ears and stapled them onto the scrotum of a tone deaf Sasquatch, because that would have been equally as unsatisfying, however, mildly more entertaining. I was so mad, what was I supposed to do now up here alone in my space station, doodle with my toes, make animals out of bubble gum, write complaint letters to amuse myself?? So that's exactly what I did... I sent them a letter that simply read "you suck bigfoot dick", and left it at that, it embodied everything I wanted to say without sounding like a crazy ex-girlfriend dumped on prom night, when in all actuality, what I really wanted to do was key "WHORE" into the side of their brand new sports car and cook up their pet rabbit in a pot of boiling water. Ah well, what can you do? ("you suck bigfoot dick")...

After meandering my way through YouTube, I became enraged with bloodlust totally needed to find a different music outlet, which led me to the almighty Google search engine, why hadn't I done this before!? My rage had blinded me. I came across a site called Hypster.com, which not only offered a playlist, but included videos... ironically through YouTube - which I was initially trying to avoid - but whatever... IT'S AWESOME O.O just about as awesome as a seven story tall crustacean from the paleolithic era... or a contagious genetically modified monkey infected with awesome.

BEHOLD, MY PLAYLIST OF EPIC AWESOMENESS >.>

Question of the Day:
What kind of music do YOU like to listen to when you've had a long day?

Quote of the Day:
"And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (The Day Is Done)

This is Far_Skies... signing off... until next time...

It took the Xanga Apocalypse to bring me back, you all know how much I love the mention of an apocalypse! I thought, "hmmm, this may be my chance at world domination, at long last!", I had been struggling bringing this inevitable reality to fruition, you can read the saga below: 
It has Begun! 
Pussycat, Pussycat... 
Project Kitty Litter 

Now that I have returned, I see that the Xanga Apocalypse may have already happened some time ago! I was sad that I had missed out in the brutality, and I was also sad when I went through my subscriptions and saw, not blogs, but goodbyes, and some that had just simply vanished, I was disheartened, how am I to rule the world without minions to carry out my unmentionable dirty work? However, hope prevailed, my faithful servant, Aloysius_son, had been keeping my throne warm for me. I was also pleased that I saw no sign of the evil feline usurper, Bishop, who once attempted to sabotage my undeniably genius plan of enslaving the world under my supreme rule. Without him in the works, my plans should go about a little more smoothly, and without hairballs, what more could a supreme ruler ask for? Not much, I have to say. 

Now that I am back, it feels as if I am starting over, starting from scratch... challenge accepted! 

It will be a task to lure new and willing minds in, but with my new Llama Army, it shouldn't be too hard. Oh yes, that's right, you didn't know, I traded in my rabid, highly trained kangaroos for genetically modified llamas skilled in the art of war and savagery! Their holy llama spit will quench my thirst for vengeance!

This is Far_Skies... Signing off... until next time. 

My husband and I watched a T.V show last night called "The Ghost Inside my Child", it was about children who have memories of past lives. Now, I find this very interesting. I was raised Christian by my grandmother and was taught that when you die, your soul goes to heaven, and it stays there, asleep in Jesus Christ. I used to question this as a little girl, how could that be if people see ghosts and if people remember these things about past lives, things that they couldn't have known, confirmable things, like their names, their children's names, what they did for work, and how they died. Her answer was always "Demons, because even the devil knows that past.", but I just can't accept that as an answer anymore, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, I believe that the bible, as we know it, has been manipulated by man, not that is doesn't still hold truth, but that is has been modified by man to suit the kind of life and culture that they were promoting at the time, I do not believe that my bible is the same bible that was originally written or intended, and there is vast evidence of this throughout history, which begs the question, what is truth and what is not? What is it that we may not know, how can we be certain if we do not question and seek to find truth. Secondly, If we are all asleep in the Lord until his second coming, then how can our loved ones communicate with us from beyond the grave? There is overwhelming evidence of this as well through audio and video recordings, and I have experienced this myself as a medium, some very profound experiences. Thirdly, demonic possession does not fully explain what these children are experiencing, when someone is possessed, they exhibit a lot of other symptoms than those being described by these families, poltergeist activity, negative/violent thoughts, demonic nightmares, depression, voices/whispers/growls and many other things. While I believe in demonic possession, I do not believe that this accounts for what these people are experiencing and the memories that they have.

Which brings me to my experiences. I feel that I may have been a man in a past life. When I was a little girl, I identified more with being a little boy, my mother used to dress me in a lot of very feminine clothing, with lace and frills, but I didn't feel that was right, I wanted to dress like the boys did, and up until I was 14 years old I did exactly that. Growing up I had no interest in playing with the other girls on my block, I ran with the boys, I didn't want to play house, I wanted to play Cowboys & Indians, but I was never the damsel in distress, I was the cowboy. I loved my G.I. Joe's, my Hotwheel cars and playing in the mud, I loved everything about being a little boy and it felt familiar to me. Even when thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up, looking at these men in authority, astronauts, actors, soldiers, I always thought, I want to grow up to be just like that, a successful man, big, handsome and strong. It wasn't until I hit puberty and started having feelings for the opposite sex that I began to embrace who I was in the now, started do dress like a girl, act like a girl, wear makeup, but still I had those feelings, as if I was a man, or once was. Even in my dreams I am a man, always have been for as long as I can remember. I want to be clear and state that I am not transgender, I do not wish to be a man and quite like being a woman and LOVE men, I do not feel I am in the wrong body, it's just that being a man is something that I find quite familiar, it's like I can shut my eyes and recall what having a penis felt like, every sensation; what being a man felt like. I believe that I once was a man, in my recent past life. It's like a memory is there, but just beyond my reach.

All of this also makes me wonder if some of those people who do consider themselves transgender are really just stuck in their past, maybe they were once women/men, and now they are confused and holding on to what is familiar to them.

There is a lot in this world that we have yet to understand, there is a lot yet to be discovered, and I find it all quite interesting.

Watch 2 full episodes of The Ghost Inside my Child (I personally found the second one quite profound):
Disaster Deaths
A Soldier and a Screenwriter

What are your thoughts regarding this subject?

Running this gaming community I host puts me in touch with a lot of different people; a trend recently has been “dating within the community”. Now, I’m all for finding love online, I found my husband online, but he lived fairly close to me and it was feasible to spend time actually “together”. I find unreasonable online relationships to be pointless, not just pointless, but kind of silly in my opinion. Online relationships aren't “real” relationships and never leave the “honeymoon phase”, I feel that this too isn’t healthy, a real relationship needs to be able to endure passed this so called “honeymoon phase” to mature into something long lasting and strong. For an online relationship, once the honeymoon phase is over, so is the relationship, because that was all that was binding it together, the lust, the desire, the googly eyes… but a real relationship is so much more. I feel bad for these women and girls within my community, given to unrealistic fantasies of what love is or can be, don’t they know that they deserve better, that they could HAVE better… the answer is obviously no. It is indeed this technological world that has connected us in such a way that love has become impersonal, we are more comfortable connecting digitally than humanly, neighbors don’t say hello anymore, breakups happen through text messaging, and entire relationships are conducted via the web.

It makes me sad to live in a world where people can’t look you in the eye anymore, rather than having an adult discussion, they communicate through impersonal text where they can be as hateful as they want to be without taking responsibility for their words or actions in person, because that is what they are comfortable with now. For example, my step daughter refuses to speak to her father in person, let alone on the phone, she would rather lash out in text to avoid an adult conversation and the emotions and reality that may come with it. She is like most youth of today, hiding behind a keyboard, completely inept and uncomfortable with healthy human interaction. So why do we choose to stunt ourselves in such a way, because it’s easy? I feel this is a false sense of ease, putting us in a far more difficult and volatile emotional circumstances, stunting our development as human beings, as social beings, narrowing our horizons, and our dreams.

I don’t see children playing outside anymore, playing in the mud, climbing trees… this digital age. What have we become? What morals can we teach our children when they are so focused on a world that doesn’t even really exist, relationships that don’t really exist, feelings founded, not in reality, but fantasy? I wish I could feel the world the way I did when I was a child, before the internet, before cell phones, the air just seemed to smell sweeter, the world looked brighter, and so did the future, but this was not the future that I expected, although I saw it coming. I want nothing more than for my children to experience this life first hand, in all of its pain and ugliness, and in all of its happiness and beauty. This life is an adventure and it is meant to be explored, but here we sit in front of our monitors, while those more daring don’t simply exist, but live, tangibly and with a passion.

I just recently got unfriended on FB by someone named Erin Green Hicks, I asked her why she unfreinded me as I enjoyed her posts, I was dumbfounded by her reply:

"the dolphin crying did it. i made myself a promise a while back that i will help any animal i come across tha tneeds me-but that pictures depicting their abuse I will unfriend anyone whom posts them" - Hicks

This really upset me. I believe as human beings we need to be stronger than this. It's when we turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering of the world, and shelter our minds and hearts from it, that we lose our compassion; our understanding; we lose touch with reality. She then went on to say how much of a better person she was than I, telling me that I was full of anger, stating that she's seen things that I wouldn't be able to live through after seeing, pain that I could never imagine. I also found this interesting and a little upsetting, as she has no idea what I have seen, or what *I* have lived through. If experiencing pain has caused one to be sensitive to it, then one has gone in the wrong direction and has allowed that pain to wound them instead of making them stronger, or a better person, as she claims to be. I too have seen pain, however I don't feel the way she does regarding it. The pain I have experienced and witnessed in my life has giving me the emotional and mental fortitude to look upon the pain and suffering of the world with a heart of compassion, understanding and empathy. I do not feel the need to run from it or shelter myself from it, rather, I feel I have a responsibility as a survivor to look upon and acknowledge the pain of others, be them human or animal. I have lived through too much to turn away from someones pain, when so many turned away from mine. I feel it is an injustice to turn away. I will not run or hide, but I will stand firm and strong in my knowledge and beliefs, not only for myself but for others who may someday need me, whoever and wherever they may be. That is my responsibility as a survivor, to help others survive as well, to be a sparkle of hope, to inspire love and to facilitate healing. I was sad for this woman, she saw herself as a strong person, but what I saw was something a lot different, I saw a woman that was wounded and weak at heart, angry, bitter and unforgiving of the world that hurt her, so much so that she could not look upon the face of agony. I am thankful that not only did my heart become more caring, but it also grew firm enough to stand within the world and all of it's pain and be strong enough to not only bear it, but to love and to help.