The black magic known as Art plus randomness

I am about to brutally murder my brother.

Note: This is a rant. A very, very pissed off rant directed towards my brother, who has an account on Wattpad. My friends, read this only if you wish to see the kind of person I am outside of this domain. Only if you dare.

Heyyy big brother, how you doing on your god damn video games?
Ya know, the one thing you can't even take an hour away from to cook dinner for our parents.
Aka, the people who birthed, raised, and given every single you ever owned to you?
The people who are the reason you even exist?
Who gave you all your precious video games?
Gave you your laptop?
The ability to go to school and make friends?
Who are the reason you know everyone you do?
Who gave you shelter.
Food.
Water.
Those two people.
And you can't even take an hour off the things they gave you to make one fucking meal?
You know how you're constantly saying that I don't care about anything?
Well, unlike YOU. I do care. I care enough to actually get off what I'm doing and make them an actually good meal.
You can't. You fucking can't.
Guess what, I'm not mad.
I'm royally pissed off you piece of shit.
Because I do care. I care about things that matter.
Not video games.
Oh, you wanna know what I'm doing? Like always, getting into shit you have nothing to do with.
Well I'll tell you what I do. Constantly do.
I'm fucking here, always on my phone, talking people out of hurting themselves, and committing suicide.
So will you actually do our parents a favor, and do what you're suppose to.
You lazy piece of shit, you can't even cook a meal for the people who gave you EVERYTHING YOU HAVE.
Everything.
They gave you everything, and you can't even get off of what they gave you to cook dinner.