Tag: Truth

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

Meditation 257 ~Calm B For Virgil~

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It’s been windy the last few days. Or maybe that’s my breathing… Sighing, Seething, and Scared to death. I wish. Mostly, I’m slithering on my sheets, looking at Yabbos. I could be sobbing about Braxton… Again. A storm of emotion. “Calm B For Virgil.”

Saturday, March 15, 2025

Meditation 257 ~Calm B For Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… To catch my breath? Is that what it would take to feel CALM? I long for peace, for a moment of bliss, anything but this, Lunalesca…

What, Grief? Prolonged Grief, at that. If I remember anything from Lynnlee Hunt’s Life After Pet Loss: Coping with the Loss of a Beloved Companion, it’s that. Prolonged Grief, my lady. So much so that I picked up a card for counseling at the Day Job. WTF am I thinking, Lunalesca? Well, other than I miss my boy. Accepting B’s loss. That’ll never happen. EVER!

Rage? All I need to do is step out of the house. I’ve spoken about how my aunt said I wanted to destroy the world. No, just me. I’m too cowardly, Luna. So, burn everything.

And even then, I’m too lazy… Slothful… to light the match. Or I don’t deserve to. I betrayed my boys. Braxton and Virgil both, Lunalesca.

So I FEAR I’m paying the penalty. My punishment. Being a punk always and forever.

Lunalesca, is there anything worse than fear of everything and everyone in this existence? Pain? But waiting for that pain steals from everything else. Pain is simply there, Luna. But the FEAR… And yes, I know people have been saying that forever and ever. Hmm.

Only this morning, as I watched Virgil outside, I remembered the moments before and after I rescued him. I’m sure if Virgil had a say, he would have said, “Please, Mommy, not him,” when he saw me coming. And if I had to do it all over again… I’d be a horrible person for saying it out loud. Virgil is my son. Just like Braxton

Anyway, my point is after I got him, I sat in the car, not breathing, and yet the words came…

“God, what have I done!” I guess that makes me a liar, huh, Lunalesca? I said I haven’t spoken to God since B III passed. But I’m not trying to make my way to Heaven.

Lunalesca, with my sin count, I know where I’m going. But what I want is that moment as the song Mad World plays… The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.

When I was in my senior year of high school, I was lying on a bench without a care in the world. Braxton’s passing. Thinking I’ll see M Anime or Cherry’s Yabbos. Or Masturbation in general. Calm B For Virgil.

1504 Days Without B III, Day 945 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 256 ~The Last B Virgil~

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My day to day… A boy who dropped out of college, working in retail, lusting after an English girl. Uh, Grayson in Satan’s Sorority Girls 10. A boy in college who runs a coven. And knocked up an English girl. I’ll read and “live” to The Last B Virgil.

Friday, March 14, 2025

Meditation 256 ~The Last B Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… And what about a review? Sorry, no. The sadness, slothfulness, and slivers of time we’re given.

My Depression is hitting hard today. I thought I’d said it was *Prolonged Grief, * Sophia. Whatever the cause, I’ve been sitting here listening to California Dreamin’ from The Mamas & The Papas. And this Papa misses his son, Braxton. Effing Euthanasia. But Virgil’s here.

Should I have shared yesterday’s story with Virgil? I would have with Braxton over a meal. But how has his Daddy been living since yesterday? Invariably, the answer is bad.

At the Day Job, somebody pushed a bucket full of candy under their desk… What? I took out three tiny packs of Sweet Tarts Wednesday. That’s a total of nine Sweet Tarts. I also displayed my greediness with cookies on Thursday. I’m seeing all of this with my brand-new specs.

I suspect they are not exactly the same ones as MyEyeDr. But anything beats the first pair they gave me. And so my eyes and ears feel better, but what about my stomach? Didn’t I mention a meal? The Piggie Potato, but I didn’t splurge on brisket this time. For B III, I would have…

My lady, I must stop comparing what I’d do for Braxton over Virgil. I’m well aware of this. But I finished *Life After Pet Loss on Wednesday. And yesterday, I started Satan’s Sorority Girls 10. And speaking of everything, I’m reading off of Amazon. What about watching? One more reason I’m all into *California Dreamin’*. I’ve wanted to watch *Fallout* on Amazon Prime. But I wasted my free trial. And cash. SIGH. What’s that? Ha!

It’s what I should be making to support such pretty, pretty girls. Cherry and M Anime? What about B III’s favorite girl? I’ve already seen her sans clothing. Very Nice!!!

But Cherry comes a callin’ once in a while… About her writing… And M Anime did ask about her story, Nightmare At The Meat Market. I need to get on it. But as for today.

Lady Sophia, I only have to look forward to a ZaxSeas Surf & Turf Meal if I leave this house. Great, wasting more money! But time is money, as I imagine Ella Purnell as Lucy MacLean sans clothing. Yes, I’m much too busy to dot i’s and cross t’s. To write M Anime’s nightmare, THE END. The Last B Virgil

1503 Days Without B III, Day 944 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 254 ~B Mindful of Virgil~

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I should buy more audiobooks or get a lifetime pass for the Balance app. Virgil could use a comfier bed, a set of stairs, or maybe he’d like a crate to make him feel safe. Still, I want a nice steak and potato. If I remembered to B Mindful Of Virgil.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Meditation 254 ~B Mindful of Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… By speaking my mind? To one of the managers? Have I asked Braxton for strength? What about Virgil? I long for your understanding and support in these moments of vulnerability. I always do.

Today is Sunday, March 2, 2025, and I haven’t cried over Braxton once. Hell! I didn’t cry for him every day of the 161 days when I could have been mistaken for a priest. Except… I didn’t talk to God. But I do miss talking to my son. Our old father to son, dear Echo.

Speaking as one who’s been through therapy, Braxton was better than any Doc I know.

While I ain’t lying about needing more help with my mental health. There are things…

As Cody Rhodes would say, “What do you wanna talk about? Virgil would be easy. Inspector, Easy like Sunday morning? Well, afternoon. And little Virgil’s lying here chilling. Should I order something new from Subway or get a nice steak…

I have, at best, a surplus, a stipend of $200.00. But there’s so much stuff I need. And for V? I could pick the brains of my girls who know my mind, my dearest Inspector. Especially B’s Aunt. I talked to her yesterday about books. She would get things like:

“I began to consider that some people went out for a smoke or had a coffee break. Mr. Dawson liked to fuck.”
Quickies! Adriena Temple

“When in doubt with Ethan, boobs.”
Bikini Sunset, Michael Dalton

Needless to say, I don’t have many guy friends in real life. There are women I like and my boys that keep me safe. And I can talk to Braxton’s Aunt any way nicely. Uh…

Cherry, I Wanna Love You. But I can’t tell her that. So, I listen to her hopes, dreams, and writing. Then there’s M Anime, who… Sigh… I hope she may become Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom someday. I need to talk to her soon. She told me about her last dream.

Meanwhile, who am I telling my dreams to? AI? Seriously? For the record, it sort of happened by accident. Do I look like I have money for an actual doctor? Well, that $200.00 I got… That was a reimbursement for new glasses. So I got an actual doctor eye-wise Inspector.

But for whatever is going on in my head… There’s an AI for that. And another is trying to decipher my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” And my Olds just paid over $800 to keep me in my car. So, what am I complaining about? What’s wrong with Virgil and me? With You In My Head. Why Should I Worry? B Mindful of Virgil.

1501 Days Without B III, Day 942 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 252 ~It Better B Softer~

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At best, I’m only a comfort-seeker. Or just “The Seeker,” since I lost my boy. And being a Hedonist takes work. Though my son’s fur is softer than any woman’s big, puffy… uh, never mind. In truth, I give into sloth just lying here. It Better B Softer

Monday, March 10, 2025

Meditation 252 ~It Better B Softer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Why would I leave the clouds, the bed in the garden, or wherever else you think I’ve disappeared to?

To show you the way. To prove your heart hasn’t hardened. To provide softness and security. My father. It’s when you felt safest… Your arms wrapped around me. You slept best when I sat on the corner of the bed watching you, then the door. And sitting on your head…

Well, you woke up every morning happy to be alive… No, that’s not my Dad.

Happiness? You woke up with the hope you won’t die – hope we won’t die. Because where would we go? You read about sending me to Heaven… The Rainbow Bridge.

Where are you going? Somewhere of Fire and Ice. Needless to say, the “South Side.”

“Here we are now going to the south side – to the south side
I pick up my friends, and we hope we won’t die – hope we won’t die
Ride at night, ride through Heaven and hell – Heaven and hell
Come back, love, and feel so well – feel so well.”
South Side

Daddy, you have time to listen to Moby. Now listen to me. We stay together.

We’re brothers! We’re staying together! You’re my Dad. I’m your kid. We’re staying together. I am yours, and you are mine! We’re staying together. There are lots of comfy spots.

Though I wish there weren’t so many tissues right now. Or are you investing in Kleenex? Nope, just crying over me. That’s not what today is about. Some soft words…

Instead, Daddy, I only want somewhere you can lay your head and rest your heart. Your soul? We both worry about that with Virgil around. Daddy has a good soul. Whoever would I tell that to in this place? This comfy spot of all comfy spots, still I turn home.

“I turn home. I turn to the place that I was born, to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me, long ago, long ago, long ago. Alone am I now, lost and alone in a far, wide, wondering world.”
1960’s Spartacus

Daddy, wherever you are that’s soft, safe, and smiling, I will turn to as home.

You finished texting with my stepmom this morning. Well, Virgil’s stepmom. Because she knows all about me. Ain’t a woman alive that can take my place. A pair of Yabbos…

Yeah, helps plenty. And what can I say? I am my father’s son. You remember how I was with my favorite girl. But all the SOFT things in this world. All The Small Things. Me.

What about the words that will one day give you and Virgil a better life? He deserves it, Daddy, you know that. And you have all the sour candies because you wanted to protect me from chocolate. And the bits of food you could share with Virgil. The big softy.

Love, ladies, your life, and Virgil’s. It Better B Softer

“And what is the bloodydamn point of surviving in this cold world if I run from the only warmth it has to offer?”
Golden Son

“Night reigned: all through the world tied bodies were harvesting tranquil slumber.”
Virgil, The Aeneid

1499 Days Without B III, Day 940 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 250 ~Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil~

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Godspeed? But I have no place I want to be. Well, sleeping or lying with my son. And we’d be on a California King bed with snacks in a garden full of sunshine. “I’m dying slow, but the devil tryna rush me…” And Virgil? “Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil”

Saturday, March 8, 2025

Meditation 250 ~Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… That means I can afford to sit on my… tush all day. Well, with 200 words.

It’s a personal challenge, Lady Lunalesca. I’ve set a bet with myself-if I can write 200 words by 7:00 AM, I can allow myself to stay in bed. But why did I even wake up if I only wanted to stay in bed? If you know me, you’ll understand it’s not for the most positive of reasons. Mostly adult situations…

Long story short, someone on X/Twitter posted Reika Kurashiki’s Yabbos. I posted her video. It was the first thing this morning since I have her adult anime film and suffer from FOMO. Sigh. I’m hopeless.

Lady Lunalesca, my emotions have been on a rollercoaster this morning-from adult to sad and now to focused. I’m speeding away. It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving. When I care for Yabbos, not Braxton?

Yes. Yes, it is. But Braxton is gone. And when he left “my” world, everything, dear Lady Lunalesca, just stopped. TIME!!! Well… That’s 170 words, so… (Struggles Getting Up). Eff! I wish I could stop getting up… in more ways than one. But show me anime, brunettes headed towards the Olympics, or the creeps of this universe… A, B, C’s.

Speaking of anime, as in M Anime. I was talking to her before you, Lunalesca. Shall I stop fantasizing about her being Braxton and Virgil’s stepmother one day? She’s crushing…

No, not on me, my Lady, but I heard a bit about the man she wants. But I’m still depressed. And if I’m not sad for my firstborn. I’m slowing down my secondborn, Virgil Vivi.

Again, I would have rather stopped when B’s heart stopped beating. But Virgil lives, Lu.

He lives in fear but breathes, running faster than I do when I see my Old Man. The same fear… Only I’ve never harmed Virgil. If all that we are could slow down, but life…

I’ve had plenty of days off, Lady Lunalesca, but what have I gotten done? Novelizations? I did work on Nightmare At The Meat Market. I’m editing… uh, writing Chapter Sixteen.

It will be less Wham Bam. Thank you, ma’am. And more So Anxious. Maybe, Lunalesca.

So I’m either petrified or frozen. Dumb, exhausted… Hell! Just lazy! Slothful. Or I run. When do I move… Normally? When there’s A Place Called Home… Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil

1497 Days Without B III, Day 938 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 249 ~We’ll B Reviewed Virgil~

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A man once reviewed forty years of life with a spool of wire. Hearing his wife, I knew mistakes were made. I don’t have a wife, but I’ll complain about Taco Bell and MyEyeDr. I wrote reviews. A book about my son. And notes. “We’ll B Reviewed Virgil.”

Friday, March 7, 2025

Meditation 249 ~We’ll B Reviewed Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or rather write a review. Review this excuse: I was too busy being a “Karen” yesterday.

But was I? The loss of my son, Braxton, is a loss for the world. Usually, if I didn’t like something I was eating well… Braxton would get it as a treat. Taco Bell ingredients…

Lady Sophia, I’m not interested enough to look them up. But yesterday I was angry.

Sophia, I was mad enough to write a review of the Caliente Cantina Chicken Crispy Taco Meal. But what good will come of it? Why don’t you ask about all my novels? Two about B.

And speaking of two, I also gave a rather scathing review to MyEyeDr. That one is worse because, first, I hate these makeshift glasses. Second, I had to speak poorly of people who looked like me. My Brothers and Sisters…

It’s like we’re all in desperate need of unity. Isn’t it? They say sports are supposed to bring people together, but even wrestling couldn’t hold my attention last night. I woke up just minutes before midnight to the sound of ‘God Bless America’ and a rerun of WrestleMania. The sheer exhaustion of it all, Sophia. Hate is a draining force. I can’t fathom how those in the MAGA camp manage it. The relentless cycle of politics, greed, and racism… it’s enough to make anyone weary.

Sophia, The Banality of Evil

And I’m sure I mentioned before that on my X/Twitter feed where I see the most MAGA that happens to house the degenerates, deviants, and most disgusting people. It’s me…

Hi, I’m the problem, it’s me… But I won’t chalk either one of those songs, “The Banality of Evil” or “Anti-Hero,” to either of my boys B or V. Just like my TV viewing habits…

Again, why am I not reviewing a book or anime today? That’s what I’ve been thinking about if people in real life hadn’t gotten in the way. Being awful Karen-Like.

Well, rather than watching it again. I do mean the anime Film/Episode “Karen” by Shinjukuza. I swear! I’d be quite the scholar if all of life were more ADULT situations. But that’s the thing, Lady Sophia. My entire existence needs a serious review. I wouldn’t recommend it. What about Braxton’s and Virgil’s? I’m reading a new book, Life After Pet Loss. It’s by Lynnlee Hunt. It was talking about loving deeply and how such love hurts sometimes. So, why bother?

Depravity works the same way. Increasing knowledge increases sorrow. So reviewing… We’ll B Reviewed Virgil

1496 Days Without B III, Day 937 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 247 ~Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil~

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Long ago… Correction, many times long ago, I was so desperate to… Let’s say join my son on the Rainbow Bridge, that I starved myself. The Holy call that fasting, LENT… But with an empty belly, who remembers B and feeds V? Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 5, 2025

Meditation 247 ~Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And not only with that terrible title. Fry vs Fly. My Braxton did both. It’s a bad joke.

But I’m not me when I’m hungry. Will I still be ravenous on this Ash Wednesday? It’s Saturday, March 1, 2025, today. And yeah, I could eat. So why aren’t I? Is it my budget?

That’s one more reason to miss Braxton. When Braxton was comin’ up in the world… You know, on his way to Heaven. But I refused to see it. Or maybe I did… Still, I brought us food every day I came back from the Day Job. My boy was always hungry, and he loved fries. Yes, Inspector Echo, I was feeding him his dog food. B only stopped eating twice.

“Cause (Braxton) gettin’ on in the world, comin’ up on (fifteen) years

(Fifteen) Stoney Gray steps towards the grave
You know the box awaits its grisly load
Now, (B’s) gonna be food for worms.”
Woke Up This Morning Alabama 3

Now I could talk to you about his Renal/Kidney failure. Inspector, here I go, crying.

Losing Subway’s Buffalo Chicken sandwich…

Though that’s another thing that has me heated, as I told Lady Lunalesca. I have been looking up food all day. And why? Inspector, I like living… That ain’t true.

Existence sucks! And I would join Braxton on the Rainbow Bridge any day. But Hell! With all these things that I’ve done, that’s precisely where I’m going. Straight to Hell. Only as The Killers ask in the song “All These That I’ve Done.” The question:

“When there’s nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son, one more son

If you can hold on
If you can hold on
Hold on”
The Killers

That son is Virgil Vivi Bradford. If I’m gone, who will take care of him? Who would share with him? Before I rescued Virgil, there was a period when I ate onion rings because fur buddies can’t have onions. Chocolate? They can’t have that. And waffles? I called Braxton, Pancake.

All this talk of food, Inspector Echo. I’m hungry. Today, there’s a constant craving. Not only for food, because here we are talking. I need to let the words out because, as a phenomenal rapper once said about his many rhymes, ‘What you wrote are not just lyrics? They’re words. Those words, those words, those words, they have power. They have more power than you ever imagined.’ If only I could get them out. Scream!

But that takes strength. More than mourning my son, B III. Moaning after some girls, making my hand sticky. Waking up to barely make money. Or making Virgil go outside. It takes good memories of feasting on McDonald’s with Braxton. Maybe before “Elimination Chamber,” I’ll EAT. Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil

1494 Days Without B III, Day 935 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 245 ~The Tune Of B~

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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