My Way Too Personal Christmas Wish for 2011
- November 25th, 2011
- By Mark Carras
- Write comment
Hold on folks because this will be my most personal post I have ever posted. It has been and will be very rare for me to get this personal. For the most part my private life is none of your damn business. In the very late 80′s I saw my two brothers for the last time in many years. One of them for the last time in our lives. Several years later I was able to see my little brother Jamie when I flew down to California to speak on my step-mothers behalf against my biological father in their divorce. Yeah, I know. You are starting to see why I keep my personal stuff personal. Trust me when I say it gets worse from here. Stop reading if you can’t handle it. Soon after I lost contact with my step-mother and little brother Jamie for a few years. However, I never stopped looking for either of my two brothers and I think of them both often.
I would constantly look for any hint of either of my brothers, but keep in mind that MySpace was founded in 2003. So my options were very limited at that time. One day while on the bus to work I was surfing the web with one of those wi-fi cards. I ran across the MySpace page for the band Jamie had started a few years before. Excitement instantly spiked! I had found my little brother! Then I started noticing the comment section was filled with “R.I.P Jamie”, and “Jamie, you will be missed.” With a little more research I found out my little brother was dead from a drug over dose. It was heroin and I was a few months late. Last I saw him he smoked a little pot here and there. I jumped on his ass for smoking a joint that was passed around at a show because of all the crap people can put in those joints that are passed around because they think it’s funny to get away with poisoning people. I told him that if he did that he should be very careful to make sure he knows what he is smoking. Now let me be clear about this. I am not against smoking pot. Even though I never have and never will smoke it myself, I support people that do make that choice. I could deal with my little brother doing it, but I wanted him to be safe about it. I do not believe that pot is a gateway drug. Just because you smoke pot, doesn’t mean you will become a junkie like my little brother did. The numbers speak for themselves. The great majority of people who smoke pot do not move to bigger more dangerous drugs. I believe that if you end up doing something as stupid as smack, you would have got to that point through something no matter if it was pot or something else.
Now you can talk to me until you are blue in the face, but I will always feel like it was partly my fault. I am the big brother. I was supposed to protect him and he is dead. I failed as a big brother. At least this is the thought that I will wrestle with until the day I die. If you try and shove your “It’s not your fault” crap at me you are a rude insensitive asshole who is doing nothing more than twisting the knife. Please go fuck yourself and shut the fuck up. This is my business and none of yours. There is a song by an artist named Warrel Dane called “Brother” that is very personal to me because of this. Warrel wrote it about being the little brother, but it feels like it is Jamie speaking to me from the grave. CLICK HERE to take a listen if you are brave. It is one of the heaviest songs ever written. One line speaks my message back to him perfectly though. “If I could erase, one moment of pain, I’d throw away everything even fame, If I could play god, do you know what I’d do?
I’d swim to your blood and cure the cancer in you.”
I say of all this to say that I give up trying to find my other brother without the help of all my internet friends. What separates us is my biological father. This man is so evil he falsified legal documents to steal the college money from my full blood sister and myself. I watched him trick illegal aliens into fixing up property, paying cash for rent on said property, only to have cops called on them for ‘squatting’ on the property they had just paid rent on. I witnessed him tricking a little old lady out of her home she built with her husband. I could go on, but you get the idea. My little brother that is still alive (as far as I know) is named Patrick Gabriel Allen.
All I can offer is my thanks to anyone who can help my Christmas wish come true. This IS NOT for some lame ass talk show. If some talk show calls I will tell them to go fuck themselves. My tears are not for your profit you selfish cunts! This is for the power of the internet only.
