Mark William

Today is my brother Mark’s birthday, he is 32 years old today.

I was recently sorting through some old photographs, and I discovered an old picture of he and I as small children. Though we were sitting very close to one another, we were each facing different directions. Such have I felt for many years of late.

“…you can climb a ladder up to the sun,
or write a song nobody has sung,
or do something that’s never been done…”

Mark is a man of manifold talents, furious ambition, and boundless charisma.

As long as I have known him, which has been the span of his entire life, I cannot think of a field or endeavor in which he has not excelled. He is abundantly successful in his professional and personal spheres.

Rising from an entry-level flunky to the managerial vanguard of his company in only a few short years, he possesses an enviable invulnerability in a volatile and hyper-competitive industry.

Charming and amiable, he has a vast network of friends stretching from Austin to Memphis and back to East Texas, as well as the love of a beautiful woman.

“…are you lost or incomplete?
Do you feel like a puzzle,
you can’t find your missing piece?
Tell me how do you feel…”

My brother earns exponentially more per year than I, he is without the constraints of marriage or children, and has the liberty to pursue any course of action that he is so inclined. Or so it would seem…

Though he, not unlike Solomon, can partake of certain pleasures and delights accompany one of his favored bearing…  I discern the great emptiness that accompanies such. Neither can he delight in the toil of his hands, for it is but another obelisk of Ozymandias.

I mourn for my brother. Out of my great love and desire for him, I want that for him which is both priceless and free.

“…in the future, in the past
going nowhere much too fast
when I go there, go with me…”

Today is his thirty-second birthday, we have prepared gifts of paper and humble baubles for him, but I want to bring to him that rarest gift of all.

While time and circumstance have kept us apart for far too long, we can yet speak to each other as though no time has passed…  it is a pleasant enough fiction.

Come now, my brother, let’s talk.


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