So it’s nearly 4 in the morning and for some ridiculous reason my body has decided to turn against me and be filled with energy and vigor. Sleep has been elusive and, for the life of me I can’t figure out why, I decided to fulfill the idea I’ve been batting around about starting a blog. Now here we are, myself sitting in my daughter’s room in what I consider pajamas while she cozily sleeps with the sounds of chimes, light rain, and a Tibetan bowl emanating from the sound machine, and you, the reader, who at my point in time is probably asleep (lucky you). First questions first I suppose, why the “lucky rogue”? Well to sum it up we’ll have to explore each part individually. Never really been that lucky, so it’s kinda funny in the sense of irony that I enjoy. Typically, if there is something that can go wrong, it inevitably will. I often find myself using the cliche phrase that the only luck I have is bad. Sure, I have many blessings to be thankful for, but most of them did not occur without hardships beforehand. Though, admittedly, those hardships have given me just that much more reason to appreciate the good things in my life. Ok then, why “rogue”? I’ve always been quite fond of the term, but not in the dishonest sense. If you look up the definition it mentions scamp, and mischievous. Through the years I have certainly fit the bill on that. My brother once described to me that both him and I, before doing something we have been told not to do, will pause, then grin, then do it anyways. There is no surer term for that grin than mischievous. Why in the world would I want to start a blog anyways? I doubt hardly anyone will read it, though I’m sure the NSA will. Nonetheless, this will ultimately be for my own benefit. One day I intend to be able to look back upon all of the memories I plan to store here and remember the trials I endured. Remember the accomplishments for which I worked to achieve. Recollect the stories which comprise the book of my life. Document where I have been, and where I want to be. There will probably be some terrible details a long the way. Sporadically told stories that get all wibbly wobbly timey wimey. Somethings that may bring you to tears both from laughter and sadness. But this has been the life I had and continue to have. this roller coaster filled with twists and turns, loops and plummets. To change it on regrets would be to lose who I am, and being anything other than who I am is suicide.