[this is a letter I sent to my sister, not intended to be cohesive or publicly viewed.
Sister, sister, father is poison. toxic. he never even gets allergy tested to fix his own problems. he's toxic to you and to me and to Mother and to step-father and everyone. and to himself. he refuses to grow up, and he did that to me knowingly, intentionally, allowing me to suffer. he never takes responsibility for anything, never cleans up. I am doing better. but your supporting him had and has always intervened in my life terribly. I got used, scapegoated again and again. used as a tool so he could control and have his revenge on mother (who escaped his imprisonment only to be in a less-bad prison) and the world. these are facts. this is reality. that is what he did to us. to all of us. that is why the only person in the world to accept him entirely over others is his own mother who knows him through the lies he tells. and, and anyone else tolerates him only for what he gives them like the good people moving-in to where I was imprisoned, and kept going for him, I did so much work there. He has them moving in to displace and further intentionally damage my stuff and my life. he's holding it all hostage and destroying it. he knows I've put more investment and skill, time knowledge, into those things than all he could ever create in a hundred of his miserable lifetimes, and that is what has always held me back from living and enjoying life and doing all I could for the world. All my tools are there, all my fun toys for living and inventions. He always had to intervene and lie to grandma, shape her worldview so she would support him, and that's why she tortured me and wouldn't let me be free even when she’s had so much power, millions, empty houses, support, themoney given to everyone else but me. chose to punish me for the lies he has told her forever. about me and mother. Sister, I have countless recordings of him lying to her. She has no concept of reality because of him. She probably never has. He is a monster. if you cannot see that, if you choose to accept him and forgive him, that is because he has trapped you and limited you from having love and resources to be free in your life. I'd give you everything possible had I ever or if I succeed in escaping his prison and torture. but you never helped to protect me from him. You never sided with me in the big picture. You never got to see him for what he is. You never were forced to be his slave. Toil on his ship. Feel his moans, screams, shouts, grimy, sewage-covoured (literally) hands around your throat until you passed out again and again. You only saw him once do that, what about the hundred of others times? When I was forced to lay next to him? He does not sleep soundly. You can feel his quakes and groans and hands and skin and gangrene teeth. Your involvement with him has always been of benefit to you. Always. He gives you so little, and has taken so so so much. Did I have inventions I told him off as a child? yes. I educated him in many fields, I advanced him. He gave me the least, bare minimum, and always always has reminded, controlled, beat me endlessly, returning again and again, no matter the commute to return within hours minutes days up to a day’s drive away to get to me, to prove he can take it all away. He always did that. He always made my favourite things disappear. He always abused what I invested myself into. He never protected the boats I've made, he crushed them, literally, and sold, gave away cars I fixed. I fixed his boat, things he told me to do he could not. No thanks. Only orders. He never fixed mine. He crashed into my cars, denting and twisting them multiple times. He never fixed them nor paid me. He crashed into my motorcycles, denting and irreversibly twisting them. He did those things. Almost never told me. Only once, maybe twice admitted. He does not accept responsibility. He only helps so that he can own people, and use them. Control, for benefit and profit. I've never sold anything of his. Not once. He has sold everything I make entirely perfect. Whatever wasn't in some way still requiring work, he sold it after I built it. I fixed it. Every chainsaw, every tool, every car, every boat and trailer I made complete and perfect. He does this endlessly, ruthlessly. He takes anything from me he can. If you cannot accept every single word I am saying as pure literal fact, then I will never love you for you. I will support you and If I succeed I will share with you, but then I'd have power. Power he never wanted me or you to have in this world. He is a taker. While I am needy and wanty, or have been, it is because of him, and also too somewhat of step-father. they take for their benefit, and give only what allows enough to ensure they continue receiving those benefits. like when step-father acted, pretended to show shame, to you and Mother about what he has done. but not to me. no gift or apology. no millions of dollars. he gave it to charity. can you not see? that is why I don't say I Love You. I am not the one incapable of loving or being loved, it was you and them who do not show love to me. Only control and allow me to be controlled by others. Scapegoat. a tool. a fool. Not pathetic, but I let myself seem to appear as such. Until you all realise what lives we've lost or could be living. no one ever cared about my ideas. people steal them for profit, like father and step-father, their careers primarily funded from my work, my two hands, my knowledge of actual, yes, investment opportunities I've told step-father throughout my life since childhood, when he was still luddite, preferring ancient basic limited function tools. I gave him those ideas. And I got pennies and abused. I'd overhear step-father talking on the phone, see letters ordering purchases, investments, based on precisely the companies and ideas I'd told him. He never could accept me for being truthful, and for being around, because I was nosy, and I didn't understand lies, how people cheat. I was a child. He lied constantly to protect himself and own Mother as property. That was abuse. To all of us. We were innocent. And you chose to be used to be not innocent, to me, and to the world. I always want to see you live, and thrive, but you need to be better, do less bad. I wasn't ever your enemy or adversary, they were. We were used as weapons, violently, tools for their war, pillaging and raping. They've gotten so much from us and everything. That is why so many family members kill each-other, historically, and children take the power with violence. That is why our stories and tales, our media, movies are so interesting us that the protagonists usually get what they deserve. Good people rarely get what they deserve. Bad people take what is not theirs. That is how things (don't) work (as they should). They created a world to keep power in the elders, mostly, rather than promoting what they created, so called miracles, to live better than themselves, they force us into subjugation. Slaves to never have nearly what they had, until, perhaps after they are gone. We don't get to thrive because of them, yet I have always documented my progress, my inventions and ideas, so that maychance one day I find a way or if I am given a chance, I can live in spite of them. It's always possible I'd change my mind and not share so much, if I succeed, I could just go and be merry! You all held me back, knowing my genius. Never promoted me how I needed, how I deserve. Never respected. That is what you do by permitting father to exist in your life. It is disrespectful to me. It is conscious, you've always had the choice. The only reason father did not murder me or rape you as you’ve said you feared he would is then what he has always done would come to light. I've seen too much of him. And if you ever could see clearly too, you'd see him for what he is. Evil. Just go dark. Uninvolve yourself. He doesn't deserve to know you. You've always betrayed me, telling anything about me or Susan to him. Every single time I’ve said to not say a word about me, you've ignored it. You’ve continued to update him, your opinions of me, to him. He is not entitled to that. He is using you, to use me. to use Mother. You just choose to have that attention from him. He doesn't want you. Maybe when you were a young girl, that's why you told me what you have. But you chose to forget. Feeling wanted feels good.. but you were always wanted by me as your brother. You chose him always. And he made sure you'd choose him. To hurt me, and thus Mother.. the holes he felt entitled to cum Home to.