Purifoy

Wow.  January 28th.  My last (first) post on this journey was six and a half months ago (did I math good?).

It is safe to say that I went into this with the best of all possible intentions, but it created a lot of problems at the time; a time when everything was still in a bit of a swirl of chaos, beautifully embodied by the (mostly) complete darkness of these full moon shots we got at Noah Purifoy's back in June; a consolation for my less than ideal birthday.  She is noticeably pregnant here, which I have been open about in my website blog, but has been absent here because...well, everything has been absent here.  I am a month away from being a dad, again, and there has been nothing posted about it on my new "life" blog that is dedicated to "everything consisting of beauty."  Truth is,  the last post (first post) was about the time she let me know she was pregnant, again, when I lived in a world where I couldn't have anymore children, but she had gotten pregnant immediately, then miscarried in August of last year.  After making it through a difficult end to 2015, this is happening.  I'm going to be a dad again, after trying for a decade and finally coming to terms with my painful reality.

 I've been dealing a lot with that realization, in between working six days a week to be broke, raising a two year old who sometimes likes me, and fighting about stupid shit, like people do.  Oh, and also feeling serious pressure to finish my book that I don't want anyone to read and accomplish something with my life, because I'm going to be responsible for another life, and I am yet to do anything to make the world a more beautiful place for her to live in, like I was supposed to do for my now 16 year old daughter who has little to nothing to do with my life (sorry Dag [do NOT pronounce that wrong]).

 Anywhoo, these are the random ramblings of a random Wednesday night, so my blogging mindset that two of you paid attention to might be back, maybe.  We'll see what kind of fight it causes. lol. 0_0

As of right now, I get a little time every night to compose some thoughts after the family has gone to bed, which has not gone without some bickering.  Well deserved, really: she goes to bed with the two year old, and while I do read some stories with the tyrannical toddler, they basically go to bed without me, and wake up without me, as I get up early to enjoy some reading as the sun breaks over my little mountain.

I am currently knee deep in Thoreau's Walden, which has obviously been on my list for a while, having been praised by everyone, always. First impression?: born into a decent family, financially; went to Harvard; had the means to start his own college; built his little shack for Walden on his friend Ralph Waldo Emerson's property? Wait. What? So far I have a great big 'go fuck yourself, you poor little rich boy' for the praised Henry David Thoreau, but I am yet to finish the book, so...

Give me four years at Harvard and friends like Emerson and see what I accomplish.  Just saying.

I'm still alive, and I'm doing it without those opportunities.

This should be fun.

Enjoy.