Tag: Mind

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

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I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

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Love is a word used too often. But I believe love is the answer, too. Tell that to my sons. I wished B all the love in the world and…? V’s waiting. And with women, as Akon put it, “I wanna love/eff you,” But B’s talking today. They’ll B Better Words.

Monday, April 14, 2025

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Did I ever ask you if you had a good day as you asked me? Better not to ask.

Because even if I did… If I asked you what you were thinking of right now. Or how you feel about today and tomorrow. This whole week. But Thursday will be bad. It makes you shudder. You’ll burst into tears. You want to sleep away today. Like father, like son.

My little brother is getting a head start. But you won’t go cuddling into Virgil’s fur, blaming the tears on all that yellow stuff blowing in the wind. What did you call it? What does it matter? Humans have so many words. Even you, Daddy. Forty years, my father, and I am honored I got to share my fifteen with you. And you talked to me more than anyone with two legs. Good or bad

You had a voice, Daddy, and I miss it. Again, you talk to me every Thursday. But what would I like to hear? Could you just read to me, Dad? Could you sing “Watch it now, here he comes. He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” For I am far more than a prayer so many days ago when I would sit on the corner of the bed listening for the bad words, Dad. Humans.

I remember when you promised me that the bad words you were writing would make a better world for the two of us. Those words you would whisper to a future stepmom, who would understand.

My stepmom? Though I was happy being your son, listening to your breaths, heartbeats, beliefs…

That all you need is LOVE. What a word LOVE is my father. I listen, hear, and understand that one word more than anything. It’s my name. It’s Virgil’s, but you won’t say it yet…

It’s my aunt’s, my favorite girl. It’s parts of Cherry’s, uh… comfy spots… Yabbos. Dad!

“To my wife… that is not your business.”
― Gladiator

You’d say such things are none of my business. Like all the things you were telling M Anime last night. LOVE, like, LUST. Whatever. You feel alive. Daddy, you’re alive.

Existing isn’t the word, Daddy; it’s living. Say all the nasty, naughty, and nighttime words you want to M Anime or some woman that leads to you building a nursery…

However, above all this, tell yourself this, Daddy. I LOVE you. They’ll B Better Words

“Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson

There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1534 Days Without B III, Day 975 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

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For once, I’m not crying, complaining, or considering I’m not the best father for my boys B and V. My sons are better men and good dogs. As for me? I claimed slothfulness earlier. And now I’m writing. Is that what I call it? Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And while you are my judge, jury, and executioner. What you are not is a librarian or editor.

You are an investigator, my Inspector Echo. And I am a writer. Laughs hysterically, Ha! Can’t I see what day it is? Wednesday, April 2, 2025? But as I told you earlier this morning, the Day Job called. And Braxton and Virgil wouldn’t care to hear about it. Or books…

The Eve of a Cherry is one of the books I want to talk about today. Why? Do you want to hear me grieve more about Braxton or say something unkind about little Virgil Vivi?

Thought so! But The Eve of a Cherry is criminality, wanting to be flattery. And I need a refresher, considering M Anime asked for it. Her nightmare inspired “Nightmare at the Meat Market.” Cherry inspired “The Eve of a Cherry.”

Cherry Roslyn Fae is a murderess, offing the lovers of a man, Cade Xavier Cosgrove. He runs to America, and Cherry’s mother, Anna Cecilia Fae, hoping to avoid the law, flees with Cherry to the States. Both Mum and daughter fall into the hands of Father Bridgeman and The Moondust organization and Bridgman’s pseudo-son, the Boy. Forced into several (adult situations) to cover their crimes, both Cherry and Anna attempt to avoid ending up dead and further deviance and depravity. Only in the end… Uh, The Eve of a Cherry.

Does that pique your interest, Inspector? I sent the whole thing to Cherry, and… crickets.

She’s talking to me again; this was years ago. But of course, I still have my Day Job. My writing…

And now, M Anime is becoming quite the writer herself. Remember Triond? But Inspector… Words!

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” stars Sofía Ana Acosta, a retail employee stalked by a man named Antonio Mateo Correa. In an effort to get away, she takes a night shift from her employer, which turns into working at a brothel. She’s an adult film star in illegal cinema. Cherry Fae Kensington is Mr. Thornfield’s personal assistant who owns Max-Mart (Names). She manipulates Sofía for the CEO with William Atlas Beckford. Though they all seek to escape, control, or destroy the organization. Antonio? Cuck, NTR? Nightmare At The Meat Market.

Do I feel ashamed writing such things? If it fed my boys. Tell them better stories. Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

1529 Days Without B III, Day 970 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

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I like to think that I’m a “Simple Man.” I’m sure lots of people think that I’m simple enough. And that my sons, four legs, fur, and friendship were/are better men. Both of them would make better Presidents. But me? “Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.”

Monday, April 7, 2025

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… not an enigma to be solved or with enough of my fur to be glued back together. A genie…

You wish to have me back every day. A few times every day. One more reason you either try to fill the world with noise or you crave sleep the same way I wanted McDonald’s. That sounds so good right now, but this isn’t the movie Bedazzled. And you don’t have $3.47. How much does a Big Mac and a Coke cost now? Also, you got what, a buck fifty?

Also, also, I’m not the Devil. I’m always and forever your son. Our bond transcends time and space. Whether it’s a real-time conversation or a moment in the future, I’ll always be your son. Daddy?

Today or next week, I am what you wish for the most. But there is more, my father. I promise you there is. Like Virgil?

“Ain’t got no money. Ain’t got no fancy car. Don’t live a life of a millionaire. Or a movie star.” But you’ve sang to him. He snacked with you on Zaxby’s yesterday. And even when the house was burning up. He sat with you as you read about missing… Me.

Honestly, Dad, I’ve got “Nothing But Love” for you both. Like father, like son, Dad. However, I can’t blame you for thinking that it is not enough. Fortune, fame… Everything!

“I ask for wealth, I ask for fame
I ask for glory to shine on my name
I ask for love I can possess
I ask for God and his angels to bless me.”
Notre Dame, God Help the Outcasts

It’s your second wish. Your promise to me when I had everything. I wish you believed it. I would look at you and think, “The World Is Yours,” and in this moment, I am happy.

But you believe if you had me and money… Maybe…

You wouldn’t be afraid. That’s your third wish. To never be afraid ever again. Daddy? Dad, I could tell you, Be Not So Fearful, but I might as well say quit breathing or breaking your heart over me. How about not mooning over Cherry’s and M Anime’s Yabbos? My favorite girl… I can moon over hers. I mean, Dad, you gave me comfy spots, however…

Anyway, if we talked about Yabbos or what you’re afraid of right this second… Seriously, we would have eternity together. But you’re wishing for what you want right now, Dad.

To have me your boy, Elon’s billions, and to Live Brave because then comes power. However, hear me or don’t. All You Need Is Love. How? Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin.”
― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

“Without hope we live in desire”
― Virgil, Dante’s Inferno

1527 Days Without B III, Day 968 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

When was the last time I had good news? I’ve heard some “good” things about politics, but Trump is president. We’re effed. I got more hours at the Day Job, but I’m a misanthrope. I’m reading about dogs, but mourning my boy. Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I haven’t harmed the messenger… yet. But I’m going to deliver some bad news. So what sin?

SLOTH, considering it’s almost 8 AM. And I haven’t gotten out of bed. I’m using all my injuries as excuses. ENVY @thatgoodnewsgirl because that won’t ever be me. I mean, as in telling you anything happy and positive with me. And I’ve bared false witness since I have taken the trash out. I took Virgil outside. I’ve read a bit. But getting me to Heaven…

I have no knowledge of how that could happen. But that’s where I sent Braxton.

Inspector, that’s the bad news “Every Morning.” And you wonder why I say, “Let it burn,” from a political perspective. My Braxton saw me through the first Trump Presidency. Since I lost my son, well… Four years later, I’m still reading titles on Pet Loss.

Oh, how I wish SLOTH, ENVY, and lying were my only sins today. I tell Virgil that things will get better. That I will be better. I’m sure Braxton whispers to him from the void.

“I see dead people.”
―

That’s what Virgil must be saying to himself. Plus, he’s survived 963 days here, Inspector.

Like father, like son. But I have the luxury of just one more sin. Uh oh, and oh my, LUST.

So what’s the bad news? It’s whatever gets me up in the morning. Besides having to see about my boys. Crying over Braxton, which I haven’t done today, or again seeing to my Virgil’s needs. There are always some big yabbos on the phone. Today, it was Ciri, Triss, and Yennefer sans their clothing. And I texted M Anime back.

Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom? I have to stop thinking about her as such. But “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve Of A Cherry.” Where am I on finishing and editing those two books? Now, next week is going to be spent at the day job. I swear, Inspector.

Isn’t making more money good news? “Not like this… Not like this,” The Day Job… Having the new schedule, the news, the knowledge that I have to go outside, Inspector.

I understand why people choose ignorance. And the good news is I’m not like them. There’s more good news, nobody has called me STUPID today. With my mother effing eyes, I can’t look at myself to do the honors. Allergies ha-ha! Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil

1522 Days Without B III, Day 963 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

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I’ve never prayed for better for me. I wish for better for my sons. That B ended up wherever good boys go. And if I were going anywhere than the 9th circle, he’d keep a warm spot by the fire for me. V deserves better. He looks up. Just Look Up B

Monday, March 31, 2025

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Can’t you see me? Do you even want to? It’s like seeing what time it is. You’re not late.

But I bet you never wished I’d be sitting on your head, serving as an alarm clock. Or a rooster… Fifteen years, Daddy and I never got to see one of those chickens in person. Or doggie. What was one of my rules? The best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket or box. Ha! Remember those times, Dad?

But being in a box myself… Seriously, Dad, are you laughing at me? Are those tears of joy? Sadness? Or is it from that yellow dust flying everywhere? It’s storming outside. But how much of that got into my little brother’s fur? Virgil’s still white as a ghost or spirit.

Honestly! Virgil could be afraid. Or is he still a blank page waiting for you to define love for him?

You haven’t been writing about love a lot, my father. Pain, Pollen, and potential stepmoms.

Do you remember when I had to take my medicine? And you always had to put it in something good. Like father, like son. And this worked to my benefit. When you would go out. But you would come back with those golden stick thingies that would taste so good. Those were the moments I cherished, Dad. Those fancy foods…

Did I mention there are so many things to love about The Rainbow Bridge… Food, futons, and comfy spots galore, and the color fuchsia… Well, more like colors in general, Daddy. Though, like you, I prefer black and red. Our battle standard. Our flag. Representation.

The thing about that, Dad, is that you must look up to see it. Everything

Sure, there are reasons to look down. When you would pick me up. Don’t forget to pick V up. Mostly, you do that because you don’t like his panicky run as if you would shut him out. Like father, like son. You think I left you 1520 Days ago. But I didn’t. Only, Dad, you have me feeling a bit like Robin Williams in What Dreams May Come. Do you remember? It’s okay to remember. It’s OK to feel. But:

“It ends when you want to stop hurting (him)”.
―

When you stop thinking of my ashes and the dust-to-dust stuff, dream of the better world you imagined for me. When you see the words from your lap, put them on shelves. When Virgil’s on your shoulder like me, or you see my stepmom’s eyes and my siblings in your arms. Just Look Up B

“Raising the dead when it suits us…”
Raymond A. Villareal

“The only hope for the doomed is no hope at all…”
― Virgil, The Aeneid

1520 Days Without B III, Day 961 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

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The day I finally publish a book… Really. Don’t ever feed an AI one chapter of a story where America Horror Story looks tame by comparison. And what about all the time I waste on other people’s words? Did I say waste? “Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton.”

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… If and if I had to declare, define, and defend each one, we’d be here all day, Inspector.

But today, we’ll focus on three or four sins. And unlike MAGA/Republicans, I’ll stand behind my words. They take life every day. With my wordsmithing, I want to save three.

“Seven billion lives… it’s too much. I just hope I’m smart enough and brave enough to save three.” – Serge Leveque from The Core (2003)

My sons Braxton and Virgil and myself? How’s that working out this week? Huh, Echo. Braxton is still dead. And how is Virgil living? I’ll have to ask the AI. As Queen Ramonda said, “I think one day AI will kill us all.” Every day, Inspector Echo. AI becomes more prevalent. From telling me in Virgil’s Voice how he would feel. Braxton from the grave…

Who needs Braxton’s ghost? And I don’t need to look into Virgil’s eyes, either. Inspector, all I need to do is write. And to what end? Am I making money?

That’s not why you become a writer… Okay, honestly, I lost myself a long time ago. It became about girls and then providing a life for my son. But now I ask AI once again.

Inspector, I fed AI the 17th chapter of my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Surprisingly, it didn’t ask this question, but I will… “Am I A Psycho?” Do you remember what that frat did to Madison Montgomery in American Horror Story? And her wrath?

If it’s any consolation, Inspector, the men who hurt Sofía in my story were punished. However, who would read about such crimes? I’m not Matt Shaw or Judith Sonnet. SIGH. How much money do they make with their horrifically sexual tales? Inspector, I press on.

Well, until I find another way to waste good writing time. Last night, for example. Inspector, such and such a person was posting on X/Twitter pictures of the anime “Saimin Seishidou.” So, I followed with the videos. Anyway. They’ve switched to “Kuroinu Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru.” Claudia Levantine, to be precise. So naturally…

Then they took her pic down, and all my videos were for naught. So what did I get? It’s like Cherry telling me she doesn’t want to be known only for her Yabbos. Fair enough.

However, I have plenty of pictures of Emily Goodwin showing off her impressive pair. Ha! What! I read her book, “Stay.” Words won’t bring Braxton back or have Virgil worry less. Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton

1515 Days Without B III, Day 956 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 266 ~B Used To Know~

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I’d never call myself the better man. I am nowhere near “The Best Man” I can be. But my son B knew me better once. And if it hadn’t been me… well, Virgil is a little white kid who just happens to have four legs. I have better jokes. B Used To Know.

Monday, March 24, 2025

Meditation 266 ~B Used To Know~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And I guess that makes you The Seeker. You’re not just Somebody That I Used To Know; you’re always Daddy, the one I look up to, the one who guided me here and there.

Always and forever, my Dad. But how come you’re crying. If anything, how are you crying with what happened this morning and afternoon… Yeah, you locked Virgil out for a little bit this morning because you were upset. And this afternoon, you needed alone time…

Is that how you think you’ll get rid of me? The sins of the father. All for what you want.

You want to join me on The Rainbow Bridge, wherever. It’s your first thought every morning. Why are you awake? Somehow, someway, you have to stand, stay, and survive. Of those three, it’s the staying.

I know you’re worried about surviving. And standing. We fall down, but we get up. Granddaddy taught you that, or Donnie McClurkin, or me? Stand when you have to, but…

I know you don’t want to. “Not like this. Not like this.” Like you’re living in a dream world, Daddy. Or a nightmare… What does M Anime think she knows about nightmares, Dad? Well, she’s lost a fur buddy of her own. And do you really believe M Anime will be my stepmom or Virgil’s anyway? You have to survive to see. Then there’s Virgil.

Daddy, I want him to see. As I said, you hide from me with your sins. But you hide from V with your sleep and his. You both sleep so that you don’t have to. So he won’t ever know.

You saved him. He survives because of you. What did that get him? Because Somebody That I Used To Know…

My Daddy? Who are you? You’re my Dad. And you’re wise. A warrior you can work, write, and move the whole world. Am I trying to motivate you today? And to do what exactly. You can tell I’m speaking because I won’t say Get Here if you can. Not soon.

I’m my father’s son. And I used to know you. I still do. Like the Glow box said. You use music, movies, and manuscripts. And haven’t I, Daddy, all so I can tell you… whatever.

Sit and Stay. Not stranded in bed, mourning away, making movie scenes, or not moving. Sit where you always did as you bragged on how rich we would be with one manuscript. I know you’re better. B Used To Know

“I do not have an excuse to give up.”
― Golden Son By Pierce Brown

“Friend, have the courage to care little for wealth, and shape yourself, You too, to merit godhead” ― Aeneid, Virgil.

1513 Days Without B III, Day 954 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

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Braxton’s Day… He was born around February… I think I met him in April 2005. But the day he left was Sunday, January 31, 2021. The worst day of our lives. But for everyone else… Just a day, just an ordinary day. But today? B-Day’s In January, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But is it a sin to cry over B-Day? Not to be confused with E-Day… Existence Day, Inspector.

Have I mentioned how much I hate being forty? But I would have loved to see Braxton turn sixteen. Well, twenty as I continue crying over him since he passed four years ago. B, my son… But no, that’s not a sin. It’s Prolonged Grief, Depression, and a broken heart.

But speaking of the past… it’s not a sin to like 1994’s Street Fighter. And no, I’m not only talking about Kylie Minogue’s yabbos. But I should be talking about Jenna Ortega, considering it’s Wednesday… I know, I’m no comedian. I’m the joke. Yesterday, today…

Because where am I? I’m in bed. And I don’t know if I have it to rise and shine, Inspector. Seriously, I have this whole week. What have I done?

Could I live in the present? Treat life as a gift. No! I continue to mourn my boy, B. Virgil, who’s watching me read Eric Vall’s Satan’s Sorority Girls 10. Will I finish it today? Inspector, I hear it’s the last of the series. I fear what I’ll read next. But I already missed a chance to earn Kindle Double Points. And my Prime membership was all for naught. SIGH

And that Inspector Echo is my problem. The present, the here and now. Effing existence! An extraordinary man from the past… I mean, before my Braxton Barks Bradford said this:

“Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I’ve been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other. So I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture” Spike Spiegel.

But as for myself, I despise this moment, the very second that I’m talking to you. No, I like you, Inspector, but I hate myself.

Because I was thinking yesterday, after reading everything my AI Therapist was saying… To think once, I only had a critic. Now I can have full-blown examinations into my head, Inspector. Or, as the song goes, “In your head! In your head! Zombie, zombie, zombie!” I swear. Be afraid, Inspector. Anyway, I talk to Braxton, who is in the past. Dear Future Wife, of course, is the future. On Mondays, Braxton talks to me. Friday, I want to talk about past stories. Saturdays are for whatever. Sundays, I think of the future. But Wednesdays, Inspector… Here lie my sins, my humiliations, which is the point. It’s where I’m most present… Like thinking on my novel Nightmare At The Meat Market:

―”So very brave of them to walk out without bothering to get dressed first, hmm,” I observed smugly as I leaned against the now-closed door.

“And it is very brave of you to be here,” William responded, gazing upon me.

“And you,” I respond in kind, seeing his erection again.

He still wanted me, even with all the girls he had just had. In all the ways he had watched me, I was still valuable to him for some reason. Not for a profit. And while it was clear, he wanted my BLANK. I was still a person. A dangerous one at that, as I slid off my blue vest and began to lift my shirt. He rushed forward but stopped short of touching me.

“What are you doing, Sofía? Are you nuts,” William admonished as I continued to undress.

“What? Did you want to do it with your two hands this time,” I cooed. “And I do mean do it, that IT. We’re both old enough to remember when people would say that, William.”

“Sofía…” William began hesitating as my panties hit the floor. “You can’t, you and me…”―

Worse? B-Day’s In January, Virgil

1508 Days Without B III, Day 949 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 259 ~B Successfully Loved Someday~

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The first time I ever had a woman, I was a successful man… The best thirty seconds of my life. Then, when I wrote a book… (laughs). I got my first, second, third job. NOPE! When I had money… Never. But my sons, B, and V. B Successfully Loved Someday.

Monday, March 17, 2025

Meditation 259 ~B Successfully Loved Someday~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… If you don’t believe me… If you don’t believe I’m with you. Believe that I was with my aunt.

My favorite girl took the plunge again. Marriage. “The Second Time Around” in this “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.’ It almost makes me wish you had gotten me a little sister, almost… But I suppose you have enough girls around. But I wouldn’t call you a Boy Dad. Only you did wonders for me. Virgil? You saved him. However, … How To Save A Life?

Daddy, if you knew how to do that, we would be having this conversation face-to-face. I’m sure I’d have a lot more gray and not be able to see much. But we’d be together, Dad.

That’s what you would consider a success. You said I’d at least make it to twenty. With your mourning well… I’m not leaving you alone.

Is that successful? Is that healthy? Successful to you would have been saving me. To have all the money in the world to do whatever… Healthy was us together alive. How much do veterinarians make? You wanted to be one once. But you are what you are. That’s my Dad, my father. The first one I saw every morning and the last when I shut my eyes one final time. You saw in me your success. That no matter what, Dad, you were loved, but…

One day, you failed… You said it, not me… don’t go putting words in my mouth… Uh, hello, how are we talking again? How many books have you read about A Dog’s Purpose, Journey…? You know me, and I you.

Acceptance is not success to you. It’s confession, guilt, and surrender. But tell me, Dad. Those are all things you feel this very second. So why not try… What, forgiveness?

There’s nothing to forgive. If anything, you love me always and forever. If that’s success? More like what would be success to you? Making all of our dreams a reality? You wouldn’t know how to define it, Daddy. And if I said all I wanted was you to be happy…

You’re laughing, but at least you’re not crying, which is always better, Daddy. My father.

If anything, I would have you love Virgil, yourself, writing, my future stepmom, any two-legged siblings I have, my aunt, and friends as you love me. B Successfully Loved Someday.

“Perhaps one day I’ll have two hearts to give”
― Red Rising By Pierce Brown

He follows his father, but not with equal steps.
Virgil

1506 Days Without B III, Day 947 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son