My brother rarely writes. When he does, it's such a burst of secret pain I cannot help but suffer with him.

Excerpts from the letter sent to me by Corvux on Sept. 1st, 2003:

"I'm sick of feeling I die every time I talk to her, every time I see her, I tell myself, just be yourself, I know it's a cliche but that's the right thing to do, if you don't, you'll just keep on and on from here to eternity.

So when you look at her, be firm, be true. Talk to her, cool and quiet, namely, the way you are.

Soft, gunslinger, and be true."

He ends the letter with this:

"So this is one bit of my life, and I'll just tell you this: your brother is no one's idiot, and if he ever was, he'll never be again. Be proud of me, for if God really exists, and along comes the Final Judgement, God will tell me I'm not in the Book of Life, and I'll still hold enough pride to spit in His face and say "No, thank you".

Take care of yourself, sis, you deserve it."


What can I say? If I ever actually meet that bitch, I'm going to claw her. NO ONE does that to my brother.

It's hard enough as it is, having the cursed genes we have.