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The Brother Idiot
The Brother Idiot
The Brother Idiot
The Brother Idiot definitely seems like two competing forces, perhaps good versus evil, I reject both spirits. The towering resources required to watch me only match my importance. This is fact. I know a CIA agent very personally, and therefore it became easier to monitor me than to monitor her. Any influence she might actually have on the world would have to be through me, her puppet; because her appearance is that she is so untrustworthy. But, there may not be a camera on every pixel of my monitor. And it seems the CIA agent at my door has actually just taken off. And finally, as I rehash my perception, I instead receive most messages not from randomized software but from my squandering society which (remarkably) still values ad space and pays for radio seconds. Its all depressing, still. I've swept. I've cried. I've been mopping all around the house. Being sad has no use, in the end, but being clean brings us closer to God. That writ should go in a letter to my brother, who is by no confabulation completely miserable, and soppy. The climate is war-zone, and almost nothing is believable. Certainly not my brother's story about why he visited his employer's psychologist. Taking time out of his leisurely evening, which is approximately six hours at its longest estimation, my brother went to a psychiatrist who told him that he (my brother) could magically control me. There was no ulterior motive behind my brother's visit to the psych doctor, certainly not his own misery, and upon leaving my brother did have those powers of bodily control. As my brother left the psychiatrist's office, the doctor warned him of only one thing: the powers might only work if I am incarcerated, and would maybe even be useless were I to be freed. So I don't take my freedom lightly, anymore. It is a phenomenon I have noticed that, being surrounded by brilliant people, not specifically me being brilliant but the people who influence me being so, that anything I say or write has special, almost genius significance to me and sometimes the entire world. It is like a golden tongue. So the plot which unfolded this morning, while being un-special, will seem incredible to anyone reading this. Opening my bedroom door, my brother plotted to arrest me. He is, in his own way, an officer, and he felt that, should he do one thing with his powers, it would be to arrest me. He had made a path from my bed to his truck,
The Brother Idiot and was planning on bagging me into the truck bed and hauling me off to jail, so that he could then control whatever I say or do, or whatever it was he wanted to do with me. I was going to be his puppet. Before he accidentally woke me, he was rubbing his hands together and muttering such things. My brother didn't know I was already being plotted against. It was in his strange way that he naturally loved me that it turns out he would be forced to arrest the wrong person, who was an alternate officer, and who burst out of my closet to attack my brother. My brother is a large man, and came out on top. He said, and had difficulty with the words, You are under arrest--! Of course he was planning to say this to me, and when he flashed his badge at the wrong person, me being awake at this point, he was somewhat disappointed. Because as my brother was granted police officer-ship, he was only allowed one arrest: and he had just wasted that arrest on another officer. Automatically, my brother cuffed the other officer, who seemed a little flabbergasted as well (no one gets arrested for spying,) and carried him to his truck. To me, my brother said, Good-day Jordan, and dragged the other man to his truck. I may never be controlled by my brother idiot. But the terms of his arrest has made it so that he is no longer an officer, and thus is now a target for surveillancemaybe we'll find some common bond in the future? As for the man he arrested: he is being punished scientifically with an equal level of misery that my brother harbors. I guess that's fair.