Today there was an earthquake

So Today was really an interesting day. It was Tuesday and I here I am at home, writing on my blog. There has been alot of fighting at home. I cooked a curry meal, which I thought was wonderfull, with brocoli and coliflour. I gave some to my brother to eat, first he was hesistant, telling me "Pancho I've already eaten", then he took the plate, left his room and the pile of notes on his desk (he has exams these days) and came to eat in the sitting room. He also had some leftover take away sandwich, which contained deep fried fries and some sausages, which he wanted me to taste, as if we were exchanging foods. I thought it was revolting, but nontheless tasted, so that he could taste what I had. We play these games me and my brother.
Than, he ate what was on the plate, except the most of the minced meet (ground beef) curry I made, he only took a few pecks of that, but he ate the vegies or some of them. Then he decided to go back and retire to study in his room, after we watched part of a movie about an teenage boy that stutters, but nevertheless was recruited for a debating competition, which the organizers later advises him to quit, on account of the fact that he and every other kid recruited by a certain lady are all disasters, like one girl who apparently had the worst irratible bowl syndrome known to date. It was apparently so bad that at Princeton a team did a study on her. We don't have people study human ailements at Princeton, that is in vivo studies, as far as I know.
Anyway, so after we watched this, my brother left, failing to take the paper wrapper and the half eaten sandwich on the table. It is funny I was soo annoyed by this, because my own roomates Junior year would do this, leave food half eaten in the living room area, and it annoyed me but never did I once tell them to dispose of it immediately, as I told my brother.
He locked his door and I knocked, he put on his music to drown me out, but I knocked and knocked, so hard that I even felt that the earthquake that took place in Namibia on Friday, that we did not feel in Windhoek, but that unsettled homes in other parts of the country, perturbing people psychially and psychologically, had come again.
I knocked and knocked, believing that yes, I enjoyed this fgame and I was teaching my brother a lesson. He did not yield. I stopped and started talking, after what he claims was 15 minutes of me thumbing on his door, like on a drum, asking him to take his leftovers away, he opened up and swore at me and told me to leave and threw two pairs of shoes, thats four shoes consecutively at me, throw the shoe, close the door, warn me to leave and then open up to throw another one at me.
I was sore, I protested at his barbarism and how it was nearly like the boy at his high school, my high school, who was kicking another boy on the ground, in the stomach, over and over again, during a fight.
I guess I started this fight, so I got off worst.
I called my dad, and he of course told me : "Just leave Picky alone, he will do in his own time, why do you always want people to listen to you?" At this point, for me, what was at stake turned into me appealing for my dad to home, to be with us, to make peace and not always be away from home, albeit in the same city. It was in vain, he said no and also that he would not come home if we behaved like this.
"You are a grown man now, why do you fight with your brother?"
True, why?
I cried on the phone and he called Picky, to tell him more I guess, about how I had been right to an extent, but of course, this si not remedy the situation

And my brother rejected my appology and threw out the card I slid under his door, that locked door that shook underneath my fists.