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Posts Tagged ‘Avery’

Life As I Play It –NOW-

February 17th, 2009 3 comments

It began about a month ago…by happenstance, I came across two settings prominently displayed on my CRT monitor. When I first saw them, I was stunned, because I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Avery’s Documents
Busterwolf’s Documents

Unable to take my eyes from the monitor, I took a seat at my desk and investigated further. It turned out there were entire settings devoted to both halves of my psyche. The settings weren’t so disparate as to warrant me looking into some couch time, but I did note that Busterwolf preferred Windows Media Player. Avery, me…I preferred Zune.

Most importantly…I didn’t remember setting that up.
People have told me that my eyes are different in every photograph I take. Two different people.

This isn’t going to be some long-winded drawn out BLAH about me vs. Busterwolf. That battle has been fought.

One of the vows I made in 2008 was to make it through the entire year without being arrested. It was difficult at times, I even got messed with my local law once, but I did it. I have never seen the inside of a Mizzou holding cell, and God willing, I plan to keep it that way.

Something else happened along that road, and I wasn’t even aware of it until I realized I had stopped taking so many chances…I went straight.

I found that I had a hard time blogging because not much happens to me anymore. Jefferson City is not really a town where things happen.

Switching to present tense now.

I write. I work out. I talk to my children. I have a relationship. I shop (speaking of which, this is a good week to snatch up Hamburger Helper at Wal-Mart. They tend to go on sale towards the end of the month). Oh, and I cook. I find it therapeutic…and I enjoy working with knives.

With my financial aid fiasco finally behind me, I’ll be back in school in the fall. I plan to pursue something Business Administration/Creative Writing, but I’m not sure in which order. I’m doing this because I’m sick of being broke. I enjoy business, I love writing, might as well get something on paper that says I know what I’m talking about. And, let’s be real. Wits, cunning, and drive can only take you so far. A degree can certainly increase your earning power, and I would like to have a family…

Well, it’s not just that, although I had to realize the power of an education on my own…

I have a teenage son and a very angry six-year-old. I hope that when they doubt whether or not they can accomplish something, they will be able to look at their father and say that he worked full-time while attaining a degree and gave us a good life. After being gone for so long, I owe them that.

”Hope” is a word I like the sound of. I think I’m going to start using it more often.

On a side note…HOW IN THE NAME OF CAPCOM VS. SNK DID I BECOME THE FATHER OF A TEENAGE BOY?!?!?!?!?!

I talk to him and I wonder if they make a “Teenagers for Dummies” book. Was I this monosyllabic when my mother tried to find out what was going on with me?!

He doesn’t owe me anything. I’m grateful I get to talk to him.

And then there’s my writing…which I am throwing myself into while I have the chance. I figure I haven’t much else to do now…and by the end of the year, I may be scraping for minutes to get words out of my head. Universal Warrior has a fan base, something to build from, and I will not neglect that.

So that’s it. Presuming the worst in every situation doesn’t allow for much hope, and without hope, dreams die. Instead of expecting to become someone’s adversary upon first meeting them, I present myself as I am and take things one day at a time.

I am not Busterwolf, but nor am I Iron Man, insofar as the name establishes a new identity to hide behind.

My name is Avery.

This is Life As I Play It Now.

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(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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The Changing Of The Guard

February 7th, 2009 2 comments

Out of the corner of my eye, in the rear view mirror, I see the road behind me. It is littered with those I have hurt, beaten, broken, and left with nothing. Some of these people tried to hurt me, some of them did nothing but try to love me, but none of them deserved what I did to them. I look back with knowledge won by experience and a heavy heart—I am sorry.

I comb over the past a bit more and wonder…no, I dare to hope…from events long ago, the pain I’ve suffered and survived, the sacrifices I’ve made, the things I’ve lost…have I paid my price?

I look to the sky. Is it square now? Am I even? Can I trust the good things You give me…is it finally okay to stop fighting?

Hypocritical question, of sorts; is it okay to stop fighting…even though I don’t know anything else?

Everything in my possession I earned. Everything I ever held onto someone tried to take from me, and every good thing I’ve ever dared to want, I fought for all I’m worth to attain. I have felt better when I fought for the good things in my life. My father, for all his faults, was right when he said that nothing in life worth having is free.

So when something comes my way, I don’t give it a second thought, I just enjoy having it—because I worked for it.

Nothing good in life comes without a price—right?

Feeling secure enough in my current situation led me to shed the Busterwolf persona, leaving the weaker, considerably less confident Avery in his wake—and there’s a lot about the world I don’t know. For example; I haven’t the vaguest idea how to work Photoshop. Just opening the program is daunting to me.

For now. I have books.

My point is, the sheer, unadulterated confidence that came with fighting, and the ability to stare into the depths of human darkness, and come away (relatively) uncorrupted—all that’s gone now. I don’t think I’ll be on the street again, and there is no need for it.

So what now…?
How does life go on without Busterwolf?

I look upon some of the people I follow on twitter, and the people of the writer’s group, and I feel as a child among giants. If I was more active in social networking, I’d never get anything done. I only recently learned who Nancy Grace was and the inability to carry an intelligent conversation frustrates me to no end. It’s like being back to square one.

I feel as though listening to people is an excuse to cover up my lack of knowledge.

And then there’s—one more situation.
It is the one good thing in my life that I did not have to fight for.
Instead, I’m fighting an internal battle to make myself believe I’m worthy of it.

What’s the catch? What’s the drawback? Why me? Where’s the game? Where’s the shadow to the light? Where’s the lie? Where’s the–

I need to stop.

I didn’t write this blog looking for sympathy—I will come to terms with this on my own. I have too. I’m the only one who can make myself believe I’m worthy of the good that’s come my way lately.

Putting these things in writing allows me to deal with them, and as always, I hope that anyone else reading who may be going through something similar realizes that they are not alone…or those that know can pass on some advice.

Busterwolf is indeed gone, a relic of the past.

Only Avery—Iron Man—remains, and this is my ground zero. From here, up is the only direction.

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(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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Vs. Busterwolf

January 12th, 2009 3 comments

There’s this new dream I’ve been having lately…
There is a torrential rainstorm in a barren land. The rain is coming down with such force that I can’t see but three feet from me.

Thunder and lightning strike with enough force to make me think the ground is coming apart.

I’m dressed; black button-up short-sleeved shirt, black jeans. No hat, no gloves, no do-rag. This is me, Avery K. Tingle.

This storm seems to call the end of the world forth, but I’m not affected. I keep walking, unsure of where I’m going, until I see a dark figure ahead, moving towards me.

It’s me. Well, sort of. It’s…who I used to be.
Blue jeans, black sleeveless T-shirt (which I still own), the trademark blue jean jacket with the black star on the back, and the hat I gave to Drea almost four years ago now.
The gloves are there too. I remember there was a time I did not nothing without them. The gloves are running with fresh blood.

For some reason, I’m not surprised.

Today (real life now) I’m at the desktop, trying to get my two computers to like one another. While going through the desktop I’m surprised to find two sets of users, both with very different settings. In one folder, there’s Avery…in the other, Busterwolf.

Chilling to the bone is that I do not remember setting this up.
Also chilling are my friends telling me that my eyes are different in almost every single picture I take. I know why.

Busterwolf is not a monster, although he can be. He is a shell I created to protect my weaker self. I find myself no longer needing this shell, which refuses to go quietly into that good night.

So it’s time for us to face. In my heart, right now, I know I can’t beat him. I know just how strong he is; I made him.

This past week, I began exploring a photography hobby, tried red wine for the first time in life, I got to meet up with some of the smartest literary minds in the city, I landed quick work setting up someone’s computer, ranked in on a writing contest, and I even forgave a friend.

Even the martial arts have taken on a different perspective for me; my chi is much more aligned, time seems to slow down when I go through a form, punches and kicks find their mark with much more fluidity. It’s like I’m more fluent than I’ve ever been.

For all the fear I’ve overcome, there is still one more hurdle I have to face, and this is where Busterwolf awaits. I have yet to confront my own rage.

An interesting tidbit is I’ve always gotten a much bigger rush from fighting than from sex. With sex, I care very much what my partner likes and in fighting…I don’t care about anything but being better. I think less and go almost entirely on emotion. Going deeper into my emotions eventually leads me to rage, at which point I no longer care if my opponent lives or dies.

With sex, there’s always that point I will never go beyond, no matter how much I get into it. I don’t think I’d ever kill the person I was sleeping with, but I don’t know what would happen if I gave that deeply into my emotions, either. I think it’s because I’ve held back so much is the reason I’ve never gotten a rush out of the experience.

I take extreme measures to keep my temper in check. Very few people have ever seen me angry, and the few who have don’t talk to me anymore. It’s not something I’m proud of.

I look at everything I’ve screwed up in my life—my kids, people that loved me—and I have come to realize that what I have now—my writing, getting my children back, Molly—is my second chance. I am letting the past go, but I still have no idea how to healthily deal with rage.

I know that I won’t overcome—or make peace with—Busterwolf through some fight in a dream, that would be too easy.

No, overcoming Busterwolf will involve me earning the right to raise my children, finding literary success (my goal is to do it full time, for a living, but if I have to choose, I would rather be respected), and finally, at long last, get on one knee to the girl I’m supposed to spend my life, ask that very fateful question, and she says “yes”.

Yeah….I can freely admit I want a home and a family. And I would like at least one more child with the one.

When I start to find those, that’s when Busterwolf will walk away, taking the storm with him.

But right now, he’s waiting for me.

(It’s not about me, it’s about my sons)

Alright, Wolf…let’s you and me go….

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(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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