Tag: Tail

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

WillLeave a comment

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~

WillLeave a comment

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

Lessons 008 ~Tail, Tale, Tell~

WillLeave a comment

It’s not a lie but it isn’t the whole truth, I wouldn’t want to put it in fiction but sometimes I really wish it was just that. Tail, Tale, Tell, should I put my heart under some floorboards

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Lessons 008 ~Tail, Tale, Tell~

Lu,
I hate that I keep repeating myself, my apologies but from a former lesson, hat is the difference between a patriot and a terrorist, a hero and a villain… the winning side of course. For some reason, I just imagine Superman with some goofy smile on his face but then you got Batman, who is as much of a hero but doesn’t smile that often.

What about the measure of a man or a woman; I’ve brought up my face often but I can be as shallow as anybody else. Now I think of myself as a certain type of guy (Ned Flanders Blackout Continues) anyway I think of myself as one way but I saw someone in the store today and the back made me curious about the front. It made me wonder what people must see when they are looking at my back, really is the view any better or worse, damn eye doctors and their catchy jargon.

How about the way guys say “getting some tail” is that too skeevy; to be honest I have never used that lexicon myself. Doesn’t that say something about the thing that leads humanity, primal nature and all that, we are always looking for something to follow isn’t that right? I don’t think that’s any better than not looking back, forward is just somebody else and behind is just whoever I was or somebody in a worse shape, but trying maybe.

“But that’s why there’s us – champions. Doesn’t matter where we come from, what we’ve done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world is as it should be, to show it what it can be. You’re not a part of that yet. I hope you will be.” Angel S401 “Deep Down” (2002)

No truer words Luna, this is why we raise people to such heights, indeed this is why there was such an intuition as “courtly love” but does that not fly in the face of everything I was taught? In another way, the question remains, what happens when that uniform off in the distance, isn’t that of the hero but of the villain, and we follow.

If I heard it right all the fairy tales of yesteryear were actually horror stories, so why were they changed, erased, new stories replaced them, a form of newspeak? We just can’t help it, it’s one of the reasons I can’t help but look back, in a way I don’t like who I am becoming and as they say, you can’t know where you’re going until you know where you’ve been, rock meet hard place.

Like some little kid, there are the fairy tales I get lost in every night before bed, not that you can call, “Saints Row”, “GTA” and “The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time” fairytales mind you. At least these stories can be rewritten and there is no real damage, becoming someone else over and over is the luxury. The honest to God stories of my past make me I feel as though I’m Winston Smith and with that being said nobody will remember the truth of him either or that he ever existed at all.

Yes, back to the incident, I can easily say that while I had ulterior motives I really was innocent and didn’t mean any harm when it came to her. It can be said that I was skeevy and inappropriate and way out of line and that guy I haven’t really been trying to escape from finally caught up with me in the end. I can also say my anger is justified and that if I was anybody else from another place, time, or story this would in itself be a whole other story I know.

“Truth is singular. Its “versions” are mistruths.” Cloud Atlas (2012)

Only by piecing together the story of a past can I even begin to start and write the present and dream of what may become the story of my future. This is one of the reasons I turned to you Lady Lu, all those years ago and I turn to you now, and while I don’t lie I edit things.

Isn’t that the right of the storyteller though, I mean this isn’t Fox News or anything, facts are important here but my truth, will not be hers, yours, or anybody else’s that happens to read these words *crickets chirping*. The teller must put a part of themselves in the telling and that part is what is most important to them will define the story as well as themselves… why does this remind me of “Gabrielle” from Xena Warrior Princess, classic?

At this point Luna I might as well be doing this for me but that’s the thing, I have no clue what I’m doing and when I finally realize who knows if I will want to, what be 100% honest like the good ole days, weave lust like a paintbrush and the like? I don’t think their ready yet, how could anybody be ready for what’s to come, I didn’t get to work on my novel today, but it’s coming along. When that day comes though… see I can’t even imagine it yet, just another chapter that has not been written but it will be.

For now, other than you and somebody else there is no one to tell, strangely enough, it has been my past pains that have earned me the most acclaim as of late. Today these words just came to me and they flow, though I don’t know if this is a lake or a cesspool and we both remember the disgust in those days. I think that is what this is all about, the need to be honest and you can’t do that looking at someone’s back not knowing, but such and such brunette has my guts all twisted up, sometimes you’re better off having them turn their back on you.

One day Luna I want to be the dad that tells his children stories but of course, they won’t be my own, but I will give them heroes or at least intelligent villains. Until I’m feeling up to it, no tail to chase, plenty of tales to explore and no one to tell them too, not yet Tail, Tale, Tell.