...what?...

Shit....I didn't realize it had been this long, yet again, since I had posted anything. Time is a fickle thing and easy to lose track of, at that, in which I kept putting things off, day after day. I'm actively dealing with family life, full-time engineering school, and finding a balance in my head that I cannot seem to achieve. Some people seem to have this drive that propels them forward with such ferocity, they may be ignoring something much more paramount. In a push for success, be it in the workplace, family setting, or otherwise, someone or something has to suffer or be neglected. I don't believe I have that kind of aggressive drive in which all around me are simply miserable pawns and I am tormenting them with my selfish pursuits.

Ever since my brother's passing, I've lost a lot of myself. I may have my toddler son to keep me in check, but something deep inside me stirs....or rather, the thing inside tears at me. I feel that I may not be in control of my emotions and inner insecurities. I cannot watch a movie, even the cheesy Disney/animated flicks, depicting father/son or brothers in some truly tragic episode without breaking down. I can hold back the floodgates for only so long but, eventually, they shatter like the levees of New Orleans.

I'm hoping this short piece will simply be my venting as a means to break out on the "blogging" scene(who even calls it that anymore?) and finding a channel to exercise my wordology.

I don't know...

Mouthgasm

As the days get shorter, the clock runs slower. There is no sense in all of this. However, I find that as I come to realize my calling, my purpose, and unite that with my necessities and responsibilities, I face frustration. I am, in my thinking, pathetic and weak-minded as I try to tell myself that I am capable of so much. This happens to me because I don't seem to be able to grasp certain key fundamentals necessary for life.

What does life require of someone, anyone?

There is some sense to this madness that a person must conform to a standard or system, but to what extent? How is it that some people can simply make things work, in any area of life, and come out on top  or, at least, in a favorable position? Does one have to be cutthroat, cunning, or cooperative? I feel that I cannot seem to find my place due to indecisiveness through important stages in life and an untimely realization of passion.

Can that passion be harnessed?

By the beard of Zeus, I will be damned if I don't end my life slaving over a hot stove!

I realized that I live for the mastery of edible ingredients and I drive people mad with my obsession. This obsession borders on manic as I strive to create mouthgasmic dishes. In my life, there is a limit on what can be done in terms of free-wheeling and exploration as I have children demanding my attention and care, but I have found a way that will allow me to hone my skills while embracing my love. The only issue is that I may have to put the budding ambition on hold until financial bliss grants me the opportunity to bless the mouths of many.

So, in all of this, how is this going to vault me into the ranks of millions(or many, many thousands) that find a place in life suitable for success of sorts?

...eaten by a bear...

Where are the words going? My mind is empty and expansive. There is nothing much to be said at this moment. As far as I know, the ocean is right outside my doorstep. I cannot contemplate the mysteries of life tonight. I am at an utter standstill complete with befuddlement. What were the people like back when there was no TV, CD players, and other forms of instant media? I feel like I should step outside and sit idly and watch the stars(illusion) move. Is it possible I may have lost it? Corrosion of character and train of thought? Things get ever so complex at an alarming rate with each passing day but we are still live and fighting. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense in the least. Contemplating the various paths one could take is terrifying, even unreal, to me as I have to learn to think of myself last, even in the most trivial of pursuits. When do I find myself capable of being selfish without harm? There may never be that moment ever again. As much as I would like to experience the grit and ruggedness of a distant far-flung region, I cannot allow myself to be in the throes of adventure and near-death. Grow a beard while traversing the great land of China, raft down the Amazon River, or drink kava with Fijians. These all sound awfully appealing, yet I cannot nor do I want to think of doing a thing without my better half or my children. I would not be so absurd as to endanger either one of those close to me but, sometimes, my wanderlust may get to me. I merely want to take a walk in the woods, deep inside, to an isolated meadow where I may lay my head. Reality may snap me back like a whip but I dream until the day I can scramble up a switchback becomes a reality. I cannot wait to breathe in mountain air and eat wild strawberries. I cannot wait to dip my feet in an ice cold snowmelt. I wish to feel the sun warm my face high above the world. I hear the word "bear" and I instantly imagine myself in a battle for life. I see the sun glinting upon the ocean and I see myself, knee high, in a river stalking rainbow trout. At night, my dreams grow so vivid I cannot remember details quite as clearly but remember the depth of the emotions. I open my eyes and I am back home laying in my bed.

....I may be losing my mind

...Ezra...

These months have been some of the longest I've known in some time. Time flew by quite fast but the daily events went by at a crawl. Never did I think that I would resurface from my grief, even with the support and love of my family. There wasn't much for me to say in all this time, even at the urging and encouragement of my woman. I had lost my brother, a person riddled with pain and misgivings, for whom has watched over me for many years. Through all our ups and downs, we came together at the very end.

What a bitter ending...

But out of one chapter in life, a new one must begin. Am I wrong to assume that I can move forward one day? I surely hope that is inherent in me. If that were not the case, I would be in some serious trouble. My son grows every day, at such a rapid rate, that I don't even feel pain so much, let alone mourn for my lost brother. Each day is a new change, a new sound, a stronger step, and my son is already standing, albeit with assistance, in front of me.

Where has time gone?

My boy, whom I've given his middle name from my lost brother, reminds me of the future, the things to be had. When he smiles, I cannot help but smile. When he falls, I must hold him close and teach him to be strong. There is so much more to come and each day, while exhausting, gets easier. There is still a little part of me that will never let things go, the fact that my brother, whom I love so dearly, will not get to see his namesake grow.This pain will never escape me, but I want my son to know him still. In all these months since the last posting, I've felt a presence that has been unmistakable. I don't know what to believe, what to think, but I tell myself that I'm crazy or seeing things. Often, I see my brother in a flash, only to double take, and he is no longer there.

I wish he could return to me, to us.

However, as far as life goes, I try to keep my head up, even when I feel low, so that I am a pillar of strength to those around me. I fail miserably on many of these days but it could be far worse. I could be deep in a sinkhole, a place of no return, where many men have lost their souls. Yet, the light shines bright and every day becomes a little easier. My only hope is that I get my strength back so that I may stand tall against the next calamity.

I must become unbreakable.

...when a member of the pack dies...

Today, my brother died. The incident wasn't some random accident or murder. Suicide. Whatever opinion one holds on the subject has no importance. In the confusion, the occurrence of such an event leaves on in mystery, sadness, and anger. There is no point in analyzing his death but my mind repeats all the memories of his contact with me throughout the course of the day before the happening to the post.

My brother has always been troubled or, rather, seeking something with an edge to it. His personality screamed impulse. His hands took what they could. He had periods of calm where he backed off for, perhaps, a few months at a time. Such a period was rare and well-received, but always with an asterisk. An asterisk that says, "Just a second - he'll burn out any day." What the fuck? Why was he always like this? I began to get angrier by the minute. Stupid. Fucking selfish. What was so troubling to him, a person capable of achieving plentiful wealth and possessions, with a family always available, to go such a route? Fuck.

Well, my anger slowly dissipated into aggrieved acceptance. Nothing can be changed, obviously. Yet, it hurts all the more every passing moment. Somehow, one has to find the good in such a bad situation, only to validate their sadness as real, purposeful.

The good?

I named my son, only 28 days old, after my brother. In retrospect, I can take some solace in that, I suppose. I've never been in this situation before and the approach to it could be vast. In some way, he may be remembered in a new light. A future full of great hope and potential.

As this event has occurred approximately 30-45 minutes ago, perhaps more, I am short on words. What I have will have to do.

When a wolf dies, they go on a mourn hunt. When my brother died, I had no words.

..where is my son?...

The minutes go agonizingly slow in the darkness of night. I lay in bed next to my woman and my unborn child. My hand and forearm feel the entirety of the womb, registering the little bumps and kicks. Occasionally, I adjust my hand to catch a particularly hard bump but the little one is not too consistent with his movements. As we are about to hit the second day past the due date, I am gripped by anxiety and excitement. I cannot wait for my son to be born. I am afraid of my son being in this world. I am truly joyous that I will have a heir. I am fearful that, despite what I do, he may be destined for something else. Is a child's future determined by free will or destiny? There is no proof of either, which is all the more troubling, but comforting to think that there is some measure of choice and fate.

I gasp. My heart rate quickens. I try to adjust my position. Instead, I feel queasy and finding difficulty in taking calm breaths. I am at a place many have failed. What will be my result? Will I be a good father or a bad father? So many people profess to have been a good parent simply by being there, supporting their family, etc, etc, etc... But is simply providing a home and sustenance the key to being a good parent? Never mind a roof over their heads or food on the table. If you have some extent of that, what really makes you stand out as a parent?
Love.

I worry that I may not be able to communicate with my son as well I wish. I will teach him sign language before he even speaks, but I desire to hear my boy throughout his years, rather than supplementing with sign language. I have no gripes with sign language or being deaf anymore but the fact that I have fought for common ground, to be equal to anyone else, and refused to be labeled deaf(unless I myself use it as a scapegoat), I will never want anything less than to be like my son.

We are at the beginning of our lives. The beginning of a magnificent and tumultuous journey. I cannot help but think of all the things I want to do for and with my son. I still cannot fight back the anxieties trying to poison my joy. Perhaps, the anxieties will never leave, as I have observed in my parents, because they will never stop worrying until the day they die. Which leads me to realize that this is only the beginning. I will never stop worrying and protecting my family until the day I die. I don't plan on dying for a very, very long time so my family might get sick of me at some point.

I realize I've been dreaming and wake with a start. After a long time of feeling helpless and unable to sleep, I had drifted into a sea of what ifs. I shake my head and try to settle back in. I wish I knew what I was doing. I suppose that kind of knowledge will only come as I go. I grimace at the thought of being ignorant or, even, lacking basic understanding of how to do a particular thing.

I roll over in an attempt to sleep. I cannot sleep. I fall asleep. I wake with a start. I snort. I adjust and clench my teeth. I wake-dream in flashes but I am still awake. After some time laying motionless, I roll over one more time. Closer to my woman. I put my arm back around her and feel her womb in which my son resides. When will he come?

I fall asleep.