So I got up from sleep today only be sent flying back into lalaland as soon as my brother comes barging in with his flying pillow. He does that often nowadays. Baoying, is that what you call it? Cos I often put the blanket over his face and yell, “TIDOLAH PAKCIK, TIDO!” [go to sleep uncle, go to sleep] at night, since he was two I think. He’s probably the only one in the world whom I don’t agree with for not more than one minute. Just like the way guys can never fight with soccer. The kid’s seven, for God’s sake. He’s like my mother and father and sister and friend and brother and clown all squashed up into one little him. Whoa, talk about identity crisis. He’s like the only alive human being who can feel just however and whatever I’m feeling. SO ANYWAY. He put in a Placebo cd into the stereo and blast full volume, trying to wake me up. I ignored of course so then he changed the track to number 19/Twenty Years. He sang along with it and copied the guitar parts how shweet. But of course, I ignored again. And I swear I heard a muffled “She don’t love this lagu[song] anymore”. But I do, I still and will forever do. And then I guess he wanted me to wake up so bad that he changed the cd to a Britney compilation. Then I woke up, laughing my ass off – I don’t know why – laughing for what seemed like ages or at least until the “Hit Me Baby One More Time” track stopped. Reason being he DID HIT ME ONE MORE TIME with his amazing flying pillow, hahaha. Then he said he wanted pancakes for breakfast, so yeah I took out the mix and made some. He has the weirdest taste. He puts the Goober peanut and grapes jam onto the pancakes instead of honey, WTF HAHA. He took out the glasses and poured milk. And then I watched him eat and couldn’t help but laugh. He gave me that quizzical look and then asked, “What de hell is wrong wif you? Yesterday malam[night] you laugh in sleep. Eating oso funny ah? Wait, wait.” He washed his hands and took out the cough mix syrup from the ref. I laughed, I had to – it was so cute. At the same time, I wanted to cry so bad. No one in the house cares about what I do at home except for this little boy. He’d even go like, “Shida, SHUDDUP, relax!” if I were to scream at whatever homework stuff I can’t figure out how to do. He’d tell me to eat if I didn’t. He’d hug me if I told him, “Eh, I passed the previous test!” or if I’d tell him, “I always lose in the battle(pokemon on the game boy)” How bloody shweet is that? AND BLOODY HELL HE EVEN KNOW SOME OF THE SONGS I LOVE.
Now that I come to think of it, somehow I live this far because of my brother. I ran away from home once, but I came but soon as I got a text from my sister that he’s been crying and hasn’t been eating for the past four days. Of course I got shitfucx lectures from the paRANTS but I didn’t care. I came home and there he was by my bed with a swollen face and even swollen eyes. He even wrote a letter apologizing to me because he thought I ran away because he’s not been behaving. That was two years ago. He’d even sleep on my bed if I were to be away on camp or anything.
And now, 2006. I’m still living in this shithole house. He’s still here, somewhat being my breathing pair of lungs. He still talks to me the way he always did since he was three. The rest of the family? They seem to fade in and out. All I ever hear from them are “Clean up now,” or “Come home now and you won’t be able to go out anymore for (fill in the blank)” or “What do you think this is, your hotel?” or “Turn off the computer now and do your homework”. Like, WTBFF. MY BROTHER’S LIKE THE ONLY HUMAN.
I would buy and give anything in the world just to see him happy, safe and sound. GOD BLESS THIS BOY. AMEN
