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.There’s no way I could make it on foot.Maybe I would reside in one of the millions of abandoned homes between Camelot and the next pocket of civilization.Maybe I would actually get to Miami.But I know I couldn’t bring myself to actually do those things.My short walk down the hall to my bedroom, not even enough distance to get me away from the smell of Block feces, was enough separation to make me feel ashamed of how I’d acted.Eventually I went back out to the living room.I put my arms around Andrew and told him I was sorry.The smell of shit didn’t register with me then because I was too embarrassed with my behavior.My cheeks burned at the thought of my parents looking down and seeing me snap at my poor brother.I hugged him as though I hadn’t seen him for most of his life, a POW returning home or perhaps a fugitive finally free from jail.“I’m sorry,” I said over and over.“I won’t leave you.” When I was done apologizing I cleaned him, put a new diaper on him, then a new pair of pants.Upon his return to the sofa, I moved him further down from where he had been so I could clean the soiled fabric on the dirty cushion.I positioned him so he had a clear view of the patio door and of the woods.A bear came by an hour later.Thankfully, the Labrador was gone by that time.The bear stayed there for most of the night, staring at Andrew through the glass door in a state of confusion.Andrew stared right back at it the entire time, which made the bear feel threatened.The animal didn’t know how to take this show of willpower through the glass barrier.It roared, then stood on its hind legs before banging on the doors.I panicked then because it wouldn’t take much effort for the bear to smash through the glass panels.I ran to the light switch and turned the lamp off so we were in the dark.Through it all Andrew didn’t flinch.The bear grumbled, then walked away, defeated.Andrew was the winner of another staring match!“You beat him,” I said.“You showed him who the boss is around here.” I patted his shoulder.“I’m sorry I get frustrated sometimes.”I sat down next to him, where his filth had been.The fabric cleaner was dry now.The sofa smelled better than it had in the first place; even crapping on the furniture can have its benefits.“It’s just tough some times,” I said.Our view outside is of a series of houses that were once full of families, the sound of laughter echoing from them.These houses are all dark now, empty.The only house with lights on is the one Andrew and I occupy.That’s a lot of pressure for anyone.I guess sometimes it gets tq Dedo he better of me.“It’s just tough some times,” I told Andrew again.I laid him down on the sofa, then pulled a blanket up to his shoulders.“Good night.” I turned the rest of the lights off.Our house immediately resembled all of the other houses on the street.“I’ll see you tomorrow.”I wonder, though, what will happen when the time comes, and surely it will arrive, when I can no longer reposition a soiled Andrew, when I have to clean up after him but can’t budge him.Will he just sit in his shit? What will I do when I’m too old and feeble to move him that short distance across the sofa, or to the bathroom? What quality of life would he have at that point? And is there ever a time when his quality of life could deteriorate enough that he would be better off dead than alive, even if he’s oblivious while he lives? Surely any normal adult would rather be put out of their misery than sit in their own filth while bed sores spread across the backs of their legs.It would be a matter of days before maggots made a home in his underwear.And I would be helpless to care for him.Andrew doesn’t understand any of these concerns.Is it fair for me to impose my fears and desires upon him? He is my brother.While that qualifies me as the person to best take care of him, there is no qualification that should allow me to make these decisions for him or anyone else.I don’t mind being responsible for Andrew’s wellbeing, but I don’t want to be responsible for deciding what the boundaries of his wellbeing are.Everything about my existence is a challenge: I don’t want to die first and leave Andrew by himself to starve, but I also don’t want Andrew to grow sick to the point I have to decide enough is enough.These are the things I never talked about with the Johnsons while they were here.Now that they’re gone, I wish they were still down the street so I could finally share the thoughts that keep me up at night.I’ve been gone too long, I need to go check on Andrew.January 4Alone, the days seem longer than they used to be.Some afternoons, I talk to Andrew all day so the hours seem to pass more quickly.Other times, because I never get a response, talking to him only seems to slow time down.After twelve years, we finally watched Ghostbusters again.The movie brings back too many sad memories for us to watch it on a frequent basis.I’ve been in the mood recently to reminisce (maybe part of the reason I took up writing this diary), so now seemed an appropriate time to watch as the four bumbling men captured ghosts.As a little boy, it was one of my favorite movies, but when I watched it again as a teenager, the Great De-evolution in full swing, I found myself liking it even more.For a while, I would have said it was my favorite movie of all time.Most movies are the exact opposite for me: I’ll watch them the first time and think they’re hilarious, tell a great story, or have great acting, but then when I watch them again years later I wonder what I liked so much the first time.I’m not sure if it’s part of a normal phenomenon as I grew older, my tastes changing—I won’t say maturing—or if the Great De-evolution was to blame for making me realize the childishness of my old tastes.As a teenager, I watched Ghostbusters with Candace, my high school girlfriend, all the time.She liked it as much as I did, so we made sure to watch it at least once a month.We knew every line by heart.By the time she moved away with her family we could perform the entire movie by ourselves.An argument would ensue each time the movie started because we could never agree on who would get to say Bill Murray’s lines.I think we liked it so much because it showed how a couple of average guys could come up with a solution to what was terrorizing an entire city.Here they were with this newly discovered enemy to fight, one that wasn’t like anything they had seen before, and Bill Murray and his friends stepped up to the challenge to defeat the ghosts.It gave me hope that a couple of average guys could find a cure for the Blocks.Andrew was always at the far end of the sofa when Candace and I watched the movie.I tried to make out with her a couple of times during our Ghostbusters sessions, but she would always push me away, saying it was weird with my brother right there.“He doesn’t care,” I’d say, hoping that would be enough to let me touch her boobs.What can I say, raging teenage hormones will do that to a boy.My lines never worked on her.She had a Block sister at home who she was more mature around than I was with Andrew.Looking back, I suppose I can see how it would have been awkward if I tried to put the moves on her while her Block sister was four feet away.I still apologize to Andrew each time the opening scene starts.That was always when I’d put my arm around Candace and make my move.“I was young,” I still tell Andrew to this day, as if that made everything I did back then excusable.“Young and dumb.”'he [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.There’s no way I could make it on foot.Maybe I would reside in one of the millions of abandoned homes between Camelot and the next pocket of civilization.Maybe I would actually get to Miami.But I know I couldn’t bring myself to actually do those things.My short walk down the hall to my bedroom, not even enough distance to get me away from the smell of Block feces, was enough separation to make me feel ashamed of how I’d acted.Eventually I went back out to the living room.I put my arms around Andrew and told him I was sorry.The smell of shit didn’t register with me then because I was too embarrassed with my behavior.My cheeks burned at the thought of my parents looking down and seeing me snap at my poor brother.I hugged him as though I hadn’t seen him for most of his life, a POW returning home or perhaps a fugitive finally free from jail.“I’m sorry,” I said over and over.“I won’t leave you.” When I was done apologizing I cleaned him, put a new diaper on him, then a new pair of pants.Upon his return to the sofa, I moved him further down from where he had been so I could clean the soiled fabric on the dirty cushion.I positioned him so he had a clear view of the patio door and of the woods.A bear came by an hour later.Thankfully, the Labrador was gone by that time.The bear stayed there for most of the night, staring at Andrew through the glass door in a state of confusion.Andrew stared right back at it the entire time, which made the bear feel threatened.The animal didn’t know how to take this show of willpower through the glass barrier.It roared, then stood on its hind legs before banging on the doors.I panicked then because it wouldn’t take much effort for the bear to smash through the glass panels.I ran to the light switch and turned the lamp off so we were in the dark.Through it all Andrew didn’t flinch.The bear grumbled, then walked away, defeated.Andrew was the winner of another staring match!“You beat him,” I said.“You showed him who the boss is around here.” I patted his shoulder.“I’m sorry I get frustrated sometimes.”I sat down next to him, where his filth had been.The fabric cleaner was dry now.The sofa smelled better than it had in the first place; even crapping on the furniture can have its benefits.“It’s just tough some times,” I said.Our view outside is of a series of houses that were once full of families, the sound of laughter echoing from them.These houses are all dark now, empty.The only house with lights on is the one Andrew and I occupy.That’s a lot of pressure for anyone.I guess sometimes it gets tq Dedo he better of me.“It’s just tough some times,” I told Andrew again.I laid him down on the sofa, then pulled a blanket up to his shoulders.“Good night.” I turned the rest of the lights off.Our house immediately resembled all of the other houses on the street.“I’ll see you tomorrow.”I wonder, though, what will happen when the time comes, and surely it will arrive, when I can no longer reposition a soiled Andrew, when I have to clean up after him but can’t budge him.Will he just sit in his shit? What will I do when I’m too old and feeble to move him that short distance across the sofa, or to the bathroom? What quality of life would he have at that point? And is there ever a time when his quality of life could deteriorate enough that he would be better off dead than alive, even if he’s oblivious while he lives? Surely any normal adult would rather be put out of their misery than sit in their own filth while bed sores spread across the backs of their legs.It would be a matter of days before maggots made a home in his underwear.And I would be helpless to care for him.Andrew doesn’t understand any of these concerns.Is it fair for me to impose my fears and desires upon him? He is my brother.While that qualifies me as the person to best take care of him, there is no qualification that should allow me to make these decisions for him or anyone else.I don’t mind being responsible for Andrew’s wellbeing, but I don’t want to be responsible for deciding what the boundaries of his wellbeing are.Everything about my existence is a challenge: I don’t want to die first and leave Andrew by himself to starve, but I also don’t want Andrew to grow sick to the point I have to decide enough is enough.These are the things I never talked about with the Johnsons while they were here.Now that they’re gone, I wish they were still down the street so I could finally share the thoughts that keep me up at night.I’ve been gone too long, I need to go check on Andrew.January 4Alone, the days seem longer than they used to be.Some afternoons, I talk to Andrew all day so the hours seem to pass more quickly.Other times, because I never get a response, talking to him only seems to slow time down.After twelve years, we finally watched Ghostbusters again.The movie brings back too many sad memories for us to watch it on a frequent basis.I’ve been in the mood recently to reminisce (maybe part of the reason I took up writing this diary), so now seemed an appropriate time to watch as the four bumbling men captured ghosts.As a little boy, it was one of my favorite movies, but when I watched it again as a teenager, the Great De-evolution in full swing, I found myself liking it even more.For a while, I would have said it was my favorite movie of all time.Most movies are the exact opposite for me: I’ll watch them the first time and think they’re hilarious, tell a great story, or have great acting, but then when I watch them again years later I wonder what I liked so much the first time.I’m not sure if it’s part of a normal phenomenon as I grew older, my tastes changing—I won’t say maturing—or if the Great De-evolution was to blame for making me realize the childishness of my old tastes.As a teenager, I watched Ghostbusters with Candace, my high school girlfriend, all the time.She liked it as much as I did, so we made sure to watch it at least once a month.We knew every line by heart.By the time she moved away with her family we could perform the entire movie by ourselves.An argument would ensue each time the movie started because we could never agree on who would get to say Bill Murray’s lines.I think we liked it so much because it showed how a couple of average guys could come up with a solution to what was terrorizing an entire city.Here they were with this newly discovered enemy to fight, one that wasn’t like anything they had seen before, and Bill Murray and his friends stepped up to the challenge to defeat the ghosts.It gave me hope that a couple of average guys could find a cure for the Blocks.Andrew was always at the far end of the sofa when Candace and I watched the movie.I tried to make out with her a couple of times during our Ghostbusters sessions, but she would always push me away, saying it was weird with my brother right there.“He doesn’t care,” I’d say, hoping that would be enough to let me touch her boobs.What can I say, raging teenage hormones will do that to a boy.My lines never worked on her.She had a Block sister at home who she was more mature around than I was with Andrew.Looking back, I suppose I can see how it would have been awkward if I tried to put the moves on her while her Block sister was four feet away.I still apologize to Andrew each time the opening scene starts.That was always when I’d put my arm around Candace and make my move.“I was young,” I still tell Andrew to this day, as if that made everything I did back then excusable.“Young and dumb.”'he [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]