It’s harder to lie if you can’t speak. Or if you’re crazy. Then there’s the gibberish. I could also talk or not about the dog speak. I clap at Virgil’s successes and hope he gets right from wrong. Like me? It takes language skills… V’s Language To B.
Thursday, March 28, 2024
Tale 271 ~V’s Language To B~
1152 Days Without B III, Day 593 of Virgil’s Arrival
Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Do you remember asking about mine? No. I’d fall asleep while you would stand guard.
I don’t want to cry today. And to be clear, it’s Wednesday, March 20, 2024. So yes, Braxton, the Day Job is still rough. Indeed, this entire existence, which everyone considers Easy Street, is… Well, Hell! And not one person understands Braxton. Oh! I don’t talk and such, THEY say.
You aren’t a person. But you were far from a pet. And a pal? B, you are always my son.
And I miss talking to you. I miss having someone who understands me being here. Braxton, that’s what I’ve been thinking about over the past few days. I swear! Computers, critics! Company? No one I’ve invited has been here in a long time. Virgil Vivi? Inevitably, we’ll have to talk. But now breathing is enough.
And at the same time, too much. How can one be so quiet and, at the same time, so loud?
It’s safer to choose the former. That’s why I talk to you, the girls, and the man in the mirror. But even then, there’s The Critic. And either THEY think I’m depressed or I can’t be understood. I would even take being crazy if THEY at least got me. Contradictions!
And don’t get me started on censorship. If I wanted to say a dirty word, why not this one, Braxton? “Euthanasia.” It was the last misunderstanding between us. You didn’t understand why you were leaving. And I’ve never bought into such a clinical term, B.
You didn’t disappear. You didn’t. You only died. And I would have followed you. My son. My lieutenant. My prince.
Now you and I know where all that is from, Braxton. But I won’t even bother with The Critic. THEY won’t ever get it. But again, I want everyone to know. I’m not like Cherry.
Braxton, you are much smarter than I am. You understood why I was writing all the time… for us. So you could appreciate Cherry’s work. We knew cantaloupes and melons.
Virgil, on the other hand. I need to learn his language because I’m ready to give up on people and their creations. I don’t know how to communicate with them. While I’m spending money not to talk. How much are animal communicators? You’re gone. Virgil’s not. V’s Language To B
“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)
Always and Forever,
Your Dad