tragically, again, in mid writing of what one would most definetly consider a heart warming diatribe, my finger slipped and all was lost.
tragic. sad state of affairs.
nonetheless, i, feigning the role of optimist, have decided that my loss of twenty minutes worth of writing was for the best. allowing me to 'cut the fat' so to speak.
ever so long ago, when i first dreamed of being a famously eccentric/reclusive writer, i spent a good deal of thought as to how i would handle writing about my friends and family.
surely, if one were to be brutally honest (as all writers should) it could only cause tension and heartbreak as dear kinfolk read. but to sugercoat gets us nothing but a stomachache. being indecisive in nature, i decided to avoid the subject all together. making only a few hidden comments whenever unavoidable.
now, dear reader, why would i mention this now? two reasons.
1. i am again entertaining the self delusion of me as famous person writing my memoirs.
2. my brother came to visit this last weekend.
my brother and i growing up were not incredibly close. in fact, one could say that we were dire enemies. he was the lex luther to my clark kent. i was the small fly buzzing annoyingly around his nose. there were only a few moments when we got along.
the truth is that we are amazingly different in almost every way.
he prefers the country to my city.
he likes to hunt and kill.
i like to read and am considering becoming a vegetarian.
he is in the military.
i am a...well, i dont know what i am, but one needs to merely look at me to know that i am no soldier.
he is kind of a cowboy.
and, lets face it, i am a bit prissy.
needless to say i wasnt sure what to expect upon his arrival. one of the few times that we have spent together without our parents the mediators.
to a make a long entry, slightly shorter, it was a revelatory time.
taking heed of what americans dont do, we focused on what we had in common.
guiness.
more so, irish heritage in general.
he showed me his celtic tattoos. we shared our mutual love and knowledge of celtic music. we talked about legally putting the 'o' back in o'connell.
we talked about our parents and our upbringing. for the first time corrobarating all the stories i am so eager to tell people that dont know us.
i realized how different our experiences were as children and how drastically different we became as result of those influences.
i became extremely proud and grateful of my older sibling. something, i think, i always was but was never sure if i wanted to admit it.
i had more, even cheesier, sentiments concerning family on here. all of which were omitted. my mom reads this. i dont want her to die of joy related heart attack.
10:22 a.m. - 2005-12-19
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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