Sometimes...
Sometimes, I look at my sister, and wonder why.
When, no matter what, I am but a means to her gratifying end
When, on her high moral horse, she misjudges the person I have tried so hard to become
When I don't matter, no matter what I do
When I feel like I have to earn my way, cause being her brother isn't enough
When I give her a little kiss on the head to make her feel better
When everything she says sounds fake
When she feels it OK to do exactly what she tells others not to
When she is generally more than mood alteringly, but "state-of-being" alteringly disagreable to be around
When you listen to her talk in a different room...in the same car
When you are as good as your iPod contribution, and geographic verifications
I wonder why? Why put up with it? What about her makes her continually important? Why do I love her for more than obligation? It hit me around Fairfax. It made her laughter make me want to strangle her less. Because, for every reason I dislike being around her, she and I still did that keyboard song of Bohemian Rhapsoidy for Mom when we were little. I was still her go-to guy when she needed something in High School. She taught me to read. Because I would have just been throwing crayons at the wall. Because she was there when I graduated, and let me feel grown-up and drink with her friends on a few occasions. Because we skinned a teddy-bear and put it on the vacuum. Because we took a 4 hour cab ride to go to the mall together. Because she used to shop with me. Stupid as it sounds, because she likes the sweater I picked out. Because, without her, the carpet would have just been the carpet...no sharks, and I would have looked retarded riding the dining-room-chair-train by myself. Because she told me to clean the living room for her, and took the blame when it wasn't done right. Because we laughed when Mom slipped if there was Pledge on the floor. Unexpectedly, because she triumphiantly laughed when I told her I was gay. Because momtentarily sucking is a part of always being a big sis. It's the natural order of things...and i've already messed that up enough.
That is why I love her. And this entry was meant to be one of the nicest things I could have ever written about her. And by her, I mean you.
--Tony.
When, no matter what, I am but a means to her gratifying end
When, on her high moral horse, she misjudges the person I have tried so hard to become
When I don't matter, no matter what I do
When I feel like I have to earn my way, cause being her brother isn't enough
When I give her a little kiss on the head to make her feel better
When everything she says sounds fake
When she feels it OK to do exactly what she tells others not to
When she is generally more than mood alteringly, but "state-of-being" alteringly disagreable to be around
When you listen to her talk in a different room...in the same car
When you are as good as your iPod contribution, and geographic verifications
I wonder why? Why put up with it? What about her makes her continually important? Why do I love her for more than obligation? It hit me around Fairfax. It made her laughter make me want to strangle her less. Because, for every reason I dislike being around her, she and I still did that keyboard song of Bohemian Rhapsoidy for Mom when we were little. I was still her go-to guy when she needed something in High School. She taught me to read. Because I would have just been throwing crayons at the wall. Because she was there when I graduated, and let me feel grown-up and drink with her friends on a few occasions. Because we skinned a teddy-bear and put it on the vacuum. Because we took a 4 hour cab ride to go to the mall together. Because she used to shop with me. Stupid as it sounds, because she likes the sweater I picked out. Because, without her, the carpet would have just been the carpet...no sharks, and I would have looked retarded riding the dining-room-chair-train by myself. Because she told me to clean the living room for her, and took the blame when it wasn't done right. Because we laughed when Mom slipped if there was Pledge on the floor. Unexpectedly, because she triumphiantly laughed when I told her I was gay. Because momtentarily sucking is a part of always being a big sis. It's the natural order of things...and i've already messed that up enough.
That is why I love her. And this entry was meant to be one of the nicest things I could have ever written about her. And by her, I mean you.
--Tony.