Mom, Dad and I were in the kitchen, and as I peeked out the window, my younger brother was mumbling to himself. I was curious about what he was saying. Maybe he's got so much stuff trapped in his mind that he can't share it with the rest of us. Our family isn't very sharing, but I wonder who he confides to? He's so mysterious to me, like maybe he has a secret life somewhere. My dad is always asking me if he has a girlfriend. It's a once-a-week thing with my dad, wondering when his male brood will spew out some off-spring. To dad, I'm just fertile soil for another man's genetics. I'm actually glad I don't think like that. I don't think it makes a difference about one's sexual orientation, but most straight people figure that everyone will get married, have kids then have grandkids. I see my life as a road, and I'm on a bus without a driver, and the bus is swerving all over it.

Whenever I do hang with my younger bro, he's so distant and off in his little world. I keep thinking that someday, if his whole life were revealed, it would be an ugly can of worms. I sometimes think that if my life were splashed in the newspapers or printed in a novel, my family and friends would be shocked and horrified, claiming that they hardly knew me. Who the hell really knows anybody? I remember finding a photo of my dad with a bong! I wanted to keep it, in case I could use it against him, but I'm not that evil, and I'd chicken out if the opportunity came to me.

It's a wonder some people plant video cameras in private rooms, just to see what others do in private. I always find that fascinating, but then that image sticks in your mind everytime you see them, like when they pick their nose, spit in someone's coffee, fondle themselves, or talk to themselves.