miss my brother

so today I had to move my stuff from the "TV" room to somewhere else. I am living on someone elses dime so that means when I have to move shit I have to move shit. I don't have much shit anyways. Enough to fill a burea and a small chunk of a closet. When it needs to be moved then it fills up the walls, floors etc of a small bedroom. 8x10 I am guessing. Bigger than a jail cell I am guessing. Brighter too. Part of what I had to move was a CD rack. In that rack were some Cds from from my brother. Well, he died and so "from him" means someone had to do something with them. So I took em to Cali. The rack too eventually. The rack is back. I am back. the CDs are back. I am in his old bed in this small white room that is a tad bigger than a jail cell. I moved the CD rack from the TV room to this small white room. Thinking. So far and not far at all. This was my room before it was Pat's room. I got out to Cali. He got out to a failed liver that took his life as he lay down in Boston Common. The southeast corner on a warm night in summer. I sit there sometimes reading a script before audition at what is now Emerson college at that corner. That and Dunkin' Donuts. The top drawer of the bureau still has some of his stuff. I will move soon. And when I do that I will have to decide, do I take the whole contents of the drawer? Or do I finally get rid of his stuff. The newspaper he had with him the night he died is still there, top drawer.