My brother, younger by fourteen months, making us practically twins. Interesting that I came into the world first, and honestly, it doesn’t mean anything when you take some time to evaluate the things that come out of Noah’s mouth. Observing his looks, you would believe him to be around the age of twenty-one, and you would assume him to be a Deftones or Tool fan from the T-shirt he would be wearing. You would know for sure that old women at the grocery store ask him to reach for things on the top shelf because of how tall he is.
What you wouldn’t know yet, though, is that he is remarkably smart on a wide range of things that you have little chance of guessing prior to finding out. While you don’t fully grasp the vast scope of his intellect all at once, it’s probably for the best. To comprehend it entirely in a single moment might feel akin to the worst comedown anyone has ever experienced—it would be too much.
(Disclaimer: He will absolutely hate me for doing this and despises any attention that goes his way that isn’t completely organic from real life.)
We share a lot of things in common. Apparently, about 50% of autosomal DNA matches to some degree, so it would make sense that we are similar. The most obvious things that come to mind are: our height—both tall and long-limbed; our taste in music; our appreciation for the underdog (this could also be parental conditioning); our taste in films; the love of a good bit of handmade furniture; and the fact that we are what mainstream media would call conspiracy theorists. We are both fairly stubborn and prefer to be right (but doesn’t everyone?), just to name a few. There are many more.
What is equally as interesting is the ways in which we are not. Noah is careful with his words and well-spoken, whereas I am not. Noah thinks and feels very deeply, as do I, but in comparison (not to compare), he is the Pacific Ocean in depth, and I am the Mediterranean Sea. This becomes increasingly obvious when you are subject to Noah’s ability to think and speak about literally anything. It’s something I have always been jealous of. Though I believe his brain is a combination of being a deep thinker all of his life and all of the top-ten videos and philosophical Reddit threads he has consumed. He also has one of the best bullshit radars you have ever come across, which is terrifying for me as a sister because this means that I can’t get away with anything. I think this is definitely one of the reasons why we are, and have always been, so close. There was no room for me to be the intellectual, all-knowing, more experienced older sister because he would never have fallen for it. Asshole.
Our primary form of communication, aside from spoken words, has always been through sharing music with one another. I give him full and complete credit for any knowledge or good music taste that I have. I made a playlist full of all the songs we have shown each other, appreciated together and listened to growing up. It’s called Noah Mojo Milky Man. Mojo is actually his middle name. It’s on his birth certificate.
My genetic friend. My Christian brother (though not a Christian and actually an Elliott Smith fan). The constant humbler of my life and the smartest person I know. I do not wish anyone that is feeling anything but complete happiness to be subject to his guitar playing, as it will make you want to cry and self-isolate for 13 days straight. A true skill.
I love you.
