Tag: Firstborn

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

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I don’t know the last song B III heard on his last ride. I didn’t sing him to sleep as he lay on the vet’s table. 70 days later, I almost punched out my boss as I listened to B III’s playlist on Spotify. 2021 Wrapped to 2024’s Uh… Dad And B Spotified

Monday, December 9, 2024

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And are you past Tupac yet? Your past before me. But a future without me. But again, I am…

Here, Happy, and saying Hello. Not from a place of Doublethink, a Brave New World. And don’t say It Can’t Happen Here. There’s a reason, Dad, we speak through music. And not books. However, there is a line that comes to mind from time to time. But you would read, and I would sleep. That’s a dream you still have. That you’ll read to my siblings someday. But until then, I’ll keep saying it. I’m right here, Dad, right beside you. My presence is a constant in your life. Though I would prefer it if I were lying under that table as you worked. That’s back to normal. It is…

Not ACCEPTANCE? Again, Dad, we don’t do books. And all those books you’ve read about me, without me, all say the same thing. Kate McGahan…

Leave it to a grieving mother to show my Dad the way. But even before you started writing out my story. Then, we wrote the story together. There was silence, not peace but quiet. My transition. When today shouldn’t exist and tomorrow would never arrive. The time with me and without. Dad, to simply be. It was the second longest time we had ever been apart. But I will never forget when you’d hold me, those shared moments that we both cherish. Always and forever.

Daddy, you would sing to me. Sometimes, you’d change the words, but it was always about us. And that is how I knew how to reach you. There have been other ways. But like a Bumblebee, I’d buzz through your ear. That wasn’t a nickname…

Also, our song didn’t make it to our Spotify list. When you aren’t dreaming about dead men or fathers like you were last night. You’re dreaming about my future stepmom.

Well, no. Not any Yabbos, but there were two women in particular. Cherry and Csapunch.

Dad, I swear you have a type when it comes to women. But when it comes to music, my father. There is so much I want to say to you. And this year, indeed, this very moment in both our lives. Let me say that again. Our lives because I’m still alive. These words. Proof.

The click-clack of my paws on the floor, or your fingers on the keyboard, and communicating with Virgil. Our songs, Daddy. Dad And B Spotified

1408 Days Without B III, Day 849 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 154 ~B The Soft Things~

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I’ve been sleeping hard the last few days. No, I haven’t. Eww! Where’s V? On his pillow someplace. He needs a new one. Walmart ain’t exactly known for quality. And I was busy making the house a soft place for B’s aunt to land. B The Soft Things.

Monday, December 2, 2024

Meditation 154 ~B The Soft Things~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… right there beside you, Always. Have faith. It’s not any of the strange drinks lifting your arms up. Right?

But it might take a while. Don’t think about “THAT DAY.” But the many days that there were, you would come back to me, angry, sad, confused, and all the above, and you would wrap an arm around me and just go to sleep. You remember the days you would return, and I would jump into your arms. Even on your worst days, your arms would beat sitting on the hardwood floor. And you know how I felt about sitting anywhere that didn’t have a cushion for my tail. Speaking of tales, I was there with you and my aunt on Saturday. Well, to you, she’s my aunt. But to me, she’s The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, Daddy.

Always and forever, she’s soft.

And I don’t mean to say she’s not tough. Hardcore. A Survivor. It’s easier to hear from a pair of those ear thingies you wear than the rough voice of a dead man. So what does that mean for me now that you’re listening, Daddy? You still have some of my fur. My comfy spots…

I never yielded! And as you can see, I am not dead!
T’Challa, Black Panther

Yes, Dad, we talked about your dream here in this place. The Void? The Endless Dark? A place where there is no darkness? The Rainbow Bridge? If anything, Dad, it doesn’t matter if I’m wide awake or dead asleep… I’m sorry, bad joke. I’m happy being comfortable. And where am I most comfortable? Anywhere with you. Even Virgil sees that. He feels that you know. Between you and my aunt…

When Virgil sat there as you and she watched movies, you couldn’t push Virgil away.

I’m making an observation. You have to appreciate the soft things. Look at me, Daddy.

I’m as soft as the silence on a really good day. The song that plays that reminds you of me. The sheets on the bed that you wrap yourself in when you dread tomorrow, today. The world is a hard enough place. And when you rescued Virgil, you took responsibility. What, to put a soft pillow under his tail? Amongst other things. My father’s better.

Daddy, I know you are. Iron Will but soft enough to feel my love. And to know there’s a beautiful and soft place for Virgil. Somewhere. B The Soft Things

1401 Days Without B III, Day 842 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

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Can turkeys fly? I looked up the answer today. No wonder America has issues. I’ve dreamed my son was a bird here or there, a pigeon or an albatross. I had to look that up, too. As I’m not watching the news or how to cook turkey. Turkey Day, B Willing

Monday, November 25, 2024

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Are you beginning to believe? What, in The Matrix? A world without me in it. I’m right here, Dad.

And for once, I’m not begging you for food, though I ask that you share it with my little brother. Wow, I accepted Virgil as a family member before you? My brother and your son.

You’re wondering… What’s with all the movies, right? I’ve been sitting there right next to you. When you’re watching them all, writing, and you can’t kick me out anymore when you’re looking at women… I’m kidding about that last one. You would say, “Not today.”

That was whenever my Aunt came around, and I wanted to play with my toys. Let the good times roll. But you’ve been having Hard Times. But this week, Thursday. For real. It is my favorite day after my birthday and your E-Day. Of course.

As if you needed to be reminded of the day. Every day for me is this question. “When’s Dad coming home? We both smile at that but for different reasons. But this is my time now, so listen to me. When I asked when you were coming home, it was more than the place that took you away from me from time to time. It’s when I thought about when you’d smile. Which was rare.

Oh, and now you’re crying, and that will make me cry. Keep listening to me. Coming home is when you hold me in your arms, and there was nothing but us. It was that look you would give me when you knew you had nothing to fear because I was there. You’re not a chicken.

You aren’t a pigeon. Neither are you a seagull. With the election, you’re not an eagle. And no, you’re definitely not a turkey. I’d call you my superhero, my master, a king, maybe a titan, or even a god. Father is God in the eyes of a child. But I know who you are. Dad.

You’re my Dad. And my Dad is stronger than anything and everything. “Behold Thy Creation.” Seriously, Dad, you don’t believe I’m speaking. You had to look that quote up. It’s from 2009’s Creation. Coincidence? I was four that year, and Virgil is four. And what am I, Dad? “I’m a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.” No. I’m the wind, breath, yours. Today, always. Turkey Day, B Willing

1394 Days Without B III, Day 835 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

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“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Or my B III that weighs less than ten pounds, sitting on my head every morning. My lap or chest while reading. Have a heart for the little guy. What? B Z’s No Longer

Monday, November 18, 2024

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Still don’t believe me? Free Up Your Mind… That’s what you’re doing right now. Or listening to Pokémon’s Playlist.

Who needs a Pokémon when you had me? Do you remember when you told me that? Pokémon: The First Movie came out, well… way before my time. “Life” before existence.

Daddy, you would have been fourteen, way back then. But I remember when you would sing all the Pokémon songs to me. The joy in your voice and the love in your eyes are memories I cherish. The theme song, Brother My Brother, Together Forever, even the Jigglypuff song when you were lulling me off to sleep rubbing my belly.

There was also “The Time Has Come…” But that was so far away. Sometimes, you didn’t talk. And sometimes I didn’t listen. But just like today isn’t today, Saturday, November 9, 2024, and Monday, November 18, 2004. We’re here, Dad, you and me together. I still sound like that book.

Speaking of books, what are you reading next? I’m more of a what’s in the bag and what’s in the box. It’s my birthday type of guy. But yesterday… was it just yesterday we talked about books? But, “This Christmas will be a very special Christmas.” “In my mind.” I am my father’s son, after all. Speaking through the music. A beast with a beat.

Anyway, back to books. You’ve been thinking about what to read next. And it won’t be the usual Christmas stuff you got REALLY quiet for. Tradition… Everything tells you to prepare for what’s to come in a 1984 Brave New World, The Handmaid’s Tale, It Can’t Happen Here sort of way. You and I always expected zombies to rise. Unfortunately,

It’s not the moans of the undead. Oh me? I’m not dead. You feel that beat within your chest right now. You hear that voice that isn’t entirely yours. You changed titles; how many times now? What about those little cries, the pitter-patter of feet, and the sigh of contentment?

But why now? I’m not bugging you, am I? And neither is Virgil’s breathing, Daddy.

Breathe in and breathe out. If Virgil can do it, you can too. He is there to remind you, Dad. And maybe it’s your need for balance. You say I left silence. And now the world is making too much noise. But remember, you’re not alone. You need to hear that somebody loves you. Like the force? I love you, always. B Z’s No Longer.

1387 Days Without B III, Day 828 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

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If I had 12 Apostles, I’d have 6 men, 7 women, and a dog. In my writing, I have 2 men, 4 women, and my dog… My FIRSTBORN. This is my B. I hope that I’m hearing him. “God” knows I don’t want to hear from anyone else. But my son Braxton… “A, B, C, Me.”

Monday, November 11, 2024

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… You don’t believe me? When did you last think about Theresa Walker’s song from Dead Air? Zombies? Music? Movies?

And then there’s “Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife.” Don’t go thanking him just yet, Dad. Though there’s a reason you picked up that book. It’s not like you ever asked me about book choices. Like ever…

There were the books you would read to me. And then the ones when I assumed you were letting me sleep. How’s that been going for you? Like I didn’t know Dad with my spot. Virgil sleeps in the center at the foot of the bed. “Left side, strong side.” That’s my spot. Movie reference? I am my father’s son. I miss our movie nights with you and my aunt.

Daddy, we should have more, not just on… you know.

And that’s why I’m here today. Time? It’s overrated. And it’s not that I’m here now. I’m always here. Or did I really smell that bad? Virgil hasn’t thought of touching my bed. He’s a good boy. Can I call someone else a good boy? There’s a lot to unpack there, but again, there’s you. My Dad, my best friend, my brother. Don’t go crying again, Dad. I didn’t cry.

At what you thought of as the end, I didn’t cry. Okay, I gave you a look. You needed me.

And today, you need me. Because this has been the first time ever something’s compared.

Sunday, January 31, 2021. And now, on Wednesday, November 6, 2024. What about E-Day, Dad? Again, there’s so much there.

But, like always, you’ve had some time to reflect. So now let’s talk on Friday, November 8, 2024. Why am I here? Comedy comes in 3’s, right? But for real, Dad, I love you. Always.

That is number one. I love you, and you love me; nothing will ever change that. We’ve stood together through some rough times, remember. COVID, Day Job, my grandpa. Today and the next four years, well… I saw you through one minor apocalyptic event… I will stand with you through this, Dad, no matter what. Daddy, I’m here, always. Reminding you, number three, there is so much good in you. Forget the world. Father? Daddy?

Please let me see that good in you. ALWAYS AND FOREVER. A, B, C, Me

“Look! You’ve pushed me this far; now I’m pushing you the rest of the way! You know, back there in the woods, even when things looked really bad, I still believed we’d make it because you were too stubborn to quit! I’m not gonna make you quit. Not now. Not when we’re this close. Now, try again!” ― Homeward Bound.

1380 Days Without B III, Day 821 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Log 116 ~Those Who Will Tell~

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Last week around this time, I said I had no energy to tell my story because it was merely a cloud of fear surrounding me, and even sitting in bed back where I belong, there is still so much. Those Who Will Tell because it might not be me anymore

Friday, October 25, 2019

Log 116 ~Those Who Will Tell~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not a snitch. Now how I wish I knew where that no snitching rule came from anyway. How did I understand the meaning of the term BLACKMAIL by the time I was in first grade? Is this a terrible time to mention it’s one of my favorite genres in Hentai?

Well, no but then again the facts speak for themselves. Shusaku, Eisai Kyoiku, Kojin Taxi/Sex Taxi, The Blackmail Tomorrow Never Ends, etc. Okay, I’m calming down, today isn’t Friday, but I don’t dictate life. Only isn’t that precisely what I’m trying to do being a writer and all. I heard recently “They say life is a bitch, yeah, I know her.” Of course, that explains 90% of what I write if I’m indeed generous. So I have been too much for sharing recently. Hell, I even talked to my “father” a day or so ago about my Ma and her panicking. It’s hard to give words to those that refuse to listen, though I should adopt that NO attitude with more than my son. It wouldn’t help with what I’ve been going through recently, but that’s indeed why I write. Yes, too much, Lady Sophia.

Another email from Norton, I would feel flattered if I was more than a zero. I would tell whoever to quote another song, “It’s not easy to be me.” Every day I’m still learning about the man I am. Do I need to pull out all the reasons that I write? Winston Smith in 1984, talks about getting out his internal monologue. Maybe something to that effect. Nothing I could say will wash away the horrors I keep everywhere. Still, I desire the opportunity to explain rather than have a picture be my possible finale.

For example, if you look at me now, an old man typing in bed. My Firstborn is asleep on my knee while I’m surrounded by Hentai DVDs mostly. Yeah, I had to look up The Blackmail, and for a moment I thought it was lost or stolen. Now Lady Sophia, that’s the whole point of me “coming clean” tonight. It feels like the stories I want to tell are the targets of thieves. The hours I spend at the Day Job, some unknown hacker, the time I sleep away. Meanwhile, What am I publishing, not a damn thing, and I was too lazy to call (LANGUAGE). Those Who Will Tell

I Will Have No Fear

Log 109 ~The Stories, Will Tell~

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So many tales to tell and so little time or no energy because when you’re fighting fear; well, at least I can say I won, but what about tomorrow and the next day. What is my Firstborn doing; I hope he gets a chance to tell. The Stories, Will Tell heh

Friday, October 18, 2019

Log 109 ~The Stories, Will Tell~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s only one more story. You know how I am with my motivations, so I am grateful to be alive to tell them. Honestly, though, I don’t know what to say. Am I scared, humiliated, exhausted, all of the above and then some? I guess I can say I beat the bastard (Language). Now that particular fellow is FEAR, still waiting for round two. What about my Olds, I knew it was a matter of time before they called checking-in dammit (Language). There is also an email from dear Norton.

I’m too tired to go over any of that, Lady Sophia. Did I mention that I’m mad as Hell, but that’s no surprise? I forget things, I still carry hope, and even when I’m fighting back FEAR, I always screw up. Does it matter how you win a fight against your demons? It does when you have someone you care for, no doubt. I may hate my “old man,” but I could never picture him behaving as I did today. Only one more reason my Firstborn is safe and sound. Hell, my mother is talking to my father right now, and “my place” is a literal crime scene. What is it about people being into me and at the same time not? Again I always carry that hope, and yet I don’t have any condoms and no prospects. I am in my purest form right now, words and nothing else.

I wonder what Indiana Gone would think if she saw me now. I’m shivering, starving, and seeing ghosts. No, I’m not dead yet, but I did give it the good college try. The funny thing is I was trying to stay alive. Well, I did Yoda proud because I was doing that, I’m still right here. I should crack open “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” Now all I can remember is Day-Tight Compartments, but with everything today? I want to tell you everything, but this story is still in the making. Okay, if I had a list only for tonight, something like this:

  1. Find Food
  2. Answer M Anime
  3. Look Up Indiana Gone’s plans
  4. Play TWD and attempt to recover

I’ll have far too much time to worry, my son, my privacy, the journey here.

Makes me miss my foot hurting, The Stories, Will Tell

I Will Have No Fear

Log 102 ~Penning, Petting, Punching, Will~

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My week has been a punishing one, to say the least, when it should be a publishing one but shouldn’t they all be; you can tell that to the people I work for, wasn’t I supposed to be off today, nope. Penning, Petting, Punching, Will, I think

Friday, October 11, 2019

Log 102 ~Penning, Petting, Punching, Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now or at least pretending this is living. When’s the last time I even saw the Den, having confined myself to bed. In sickness and in health, but that’s more Indiana Gone’s thing at the moment. If I were getting married, I would love getting lost in a hotel room and a pretty little wife for a few days. Not sleeping, ha.

I can’t say I have been working on wedding vows ever. When I was walking my Firstborn today, I was working on political speeches. Once upon a time, I wished to be the Secretary of Defense. Hell my mentor, wasn’t only a Pimp but ran for office and won after death. In all honesty, if given such a choice though I would still be a provider of beautiful women than the President. You deal with people, but as I show, I do a lot for pussy (LANGUAGE). You know how I get with alliteration, and I haven’t been working on Pinterest. What about my terrific model search? I need to go ahead and publish the book first. I’m a writer even here in my bed because the car was again, very expensive. The pen is mightier than the penis, perhaps.

My Firstborn is quite understanding of my exhaustion. From sitting in waiting rooms to shopping for food, friends, and fighting spirit. The Day Job is wiping me out, but yeah I need the money. For the first time in some time, I can say I worked over forty hours. My motivations would say be grateful. Of course everyone else would add, hello this is America and welcome to it boy. My son, though, deserves extra petting with everything happening now.

Life is hard, which is simply a fact. Every day Lady Sophia it’s as if I am at war with myself fighting to be something more. All my motivations would say be yourself, and The Matrix shows know thyself. Now here I am writing, and I ask the question, do you see me changing or evolving at all. I could always check and see who I was at this time three years ago. If I’m honest I think it would hurt to see. Again life is hard, and the truth hurts, repeated lessons as always My Lady. I told Cherry, I’m a reflective gangbanger, quite often Penning, Petting, Punching, Will.

I Will Have No Fear