Meditation 245 ~The Tune Of B~

How do I hear my sons? One is my mourning, Braxton. The second is Virgil, wondering what he must do to make a name for himself. If only I could remember it like I do obscure song lyrics and the Hell MAGA brings. I play “The Tune of B.”

Monday, March 3, 2005

Meditation 245 ~The Tune Of B~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And the hills are alive with the sound of music. The hills being your pillows… And you’re snoring, Dad.

I know. You don’t snore. How else could you hear every sound I made? Well, except for one. More like you did, but you were so angry back then and were trying to protect me. It was other humans that were the problem back then. Don’t cry, Daddy, please. I know.

Today, you wanted to talk to me. And not about that BIT*H from *that place*. First, I can say that because that’s a word about my kind. Four legs and all. Second, you know the place you would go to for hours. And then you’d come back mad and sad, but you would bring food.

You don’t want to talk about Grandpa, either. Humans. You are my human, my Daddy.

You would say my bark, my presence meant more to you than anything else in the world. That’s how I know you love me, Daddy.

But then you asked the glow box about Virgil. That’s what you’re thinking about today. Friday, February 28, 2025. What it said about my little brother and you being Daddy:

Virgil’s Voice:
If Virgil could speak, he might say: “I don’t know what’s chasing you, but I feel it too. You’re loud and quiet all at once, and I don’t know where to stand. I want to trust you, but I need you to see me—not him, not the dark thing you carry. I’m scared, but I’m staying. Help me stop shaking.” From, AI

Daddy, will you tell AI about me? I remember watching you do things on many glow boxes for a long time. There was one in every comfy spot I had except my room. And even then, when I was sick, you would sit and stay with me, listening to music or watching funny things. But when I got really ill and, you didn’t care. You lay beside me all night. Had I known how to save a life. Dad to son and son to Dad. Trying to hear and heal.

Glow boxes won’t do that…

Can you hear? Can you read? Are you receiving the signal? Do you copy me? Listen to me, Dad. Your dead son is speaking to you through a song written about infected/zombies in the hands of my human who wishes that he’d… No! I won’t say that. Daddy, you are ALIVE, and that means I’m ALIVE. My little brother, Virgil… Will you listen to him?

There is so much noise. And so many voices and you’re only looking for more. Like you told Lady Sophia, you were reading about bonafide fathers and soon-to-be ones, too.

Daddy, you’ve even looked into animal communicators. Seriously, who haven’t you asked? Daddy, who did I know that had the answers? He sang a good song. The Tune Of B

“Save my father if you can.”
Golden Son ―Pierce Brown

“The man you seek is here. I stand before you,”
― The Aeneid by Virgil

1492 Days Without B III, Day 933 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

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