Love and Tears for My Brother

I am plague by doubts and keep questioning what I should do. I have been told my older brother is living in a homeless shelter while I live in comfort. I feel the urge to conduct a search and rescue operation. I am a Warrior Princess. I will search the streets in a distance state and find you. I will bring you to my home, get you the medical help you need, clothe you, get you counseling and job training. I will succeed where my parents and your mental health professionals, ex wives, employers and friends have failed. You have always lived in a dark angry place of monsters, conspiracies and blame. People are scared of you and I am not entirely sure you are safe to be around. Everything you have done that has set you on this path was someone else’s fault. You long for Walden’s Pond not fully realizing his discourses were achieved through the burden placed on family and friends. You believe you cannot connect with people because they are the unthinking masses and do not have your intellectual worldliness and sensitivities. I know that you don’t really believe that. It is what you tell yourself because you cannot do any better. You were my Daniel Boone. I remember clearly the coonskin hat and the toy rifle you played with as a child. I remember the story as a child you ran away from home for a couple of hours. You put me, an infant, in a red wagon and took me with your cherished belongings. We have bonds that ties us. If I had a cabin on a Walden’s Pond, I would put you there, but it is not within my means and I know I cannot fix your problems. My poor broken brother! All I can give you is my love and tears and pray that you are catching a sunbeam somewhere.