Tale 289 ~Failure Is A Temporary Condition~

Braxton’s box looks permanent to me. But I know he speaks to me through books, beats, and this boy eating out of his dish. And speaking of Virgil. He keeps courageously running in here and trying to be friends. “Failure Is A Temporary Condition”

Monday, April 15, 2024

Tale 289 ~Failure Is A Temporary Condition~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… I should have made one that said I wouldn’t make it to forty. Thirty? Braxton was fifteen.

Almost sixteen. So that would mean B III was somewhere between seventy-six and eighty. But he will always be my baby. He will always be my son. Dare I say, my first real love? Tupac said ain’t a woman alive that can take his Mama’s place. Same, my dear Madam, same. But ain’t a woman alive that can take my Braxton’s place. I swear it.

Madam, I’m so late this afternoon. It’s Sunday, April 7, 2024, 2:15 PM, to be precise. If you’re wondering why. I was drooling over Maiko Kaneda this afternoon. Sigh. She is the perfect woman, the goddess. I know. I would give her or any girl up for my B III.

But why? I failed Braxton. Final, finished, friendship’s fatal finale.

1170 days, Madam, and I’m still shedding tears over him. I save none for myself. Euthanasia is a permanent condition. B III’s gone, and he’s never coming back to me.

Unless I continue to fail at this existence, and that’s the thing. Failure isn’t required. Madam, no matter what, this will all end, and then what? Gods, Devils, Heaven, Hell. You know where I stand, religiously speaking. But I will never believe my son simply winked out of the universe. And he would follow me anywhere. Comfy clouds, warming fires.

But until then. What now? Once again, I have failed for thirty-nine years. My success. Today, it’s the fact that we’re here. So, as I told the Man in the Mirror, how does that help?

I bet I failed to “keep it in my pants.” My money, many distractions, or my monster, dear Madam. As I said, Maiko Kaneda. Cue me drooling like Homer Simpson for another minute or two. Minuteman, indeed (snickers). And hopefully, I’m not into Helldivers 2.

You know I need to make sound financial decisions. And with everything that’s broken here.

This afternoon, I could have been a decent friend to Virgil. I can’t blame him for not holding it in. And if it isn’t him going outside, there are permanent tear tracks down his face.

Madam, my eyes are permanently tired. But this would all be a temporary hardship if…

I did something? Braxton’s in the universe. What about chances? Failure Is A Temporary Condition

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1170 Days Without B III, Day 611 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 282 ~Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours~

I didn’t think I’d be a Dad again. Most would say I wasn’t before, as my son has four legs. B’s been gone 1163 days. While I won’t call V, son. And he’s been here 604 days. Some Dad’s “get what’s coming,” “Golden Son.” Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours

Monday, April 8, 2024

Tale 282 ~Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Because I’m worse than my father ever was. My son is dead. Yes, Braxton was/is my son.

I hadn’t planned on talking about this today. What, Braxton? No. I mean on fatherhood.

Not to sound cliché, ha-ha. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. To me, it is. Take everything you would say that makes one a man.

There was a particular part of me that was quite hard this morning. What, Madam? I was reading by 5:00 AM. Anyway, it’s not that desire, distraction, or deception, Madam.

There’s the aftermath—sons and daughters—everything I want in this world. At the top of the list would be my son, Braxton. Right behind him, Madam, there’s family. And what family do I have? Selfish thirty-nine-year-old so and so. I know that, dear Madam.

A man provides. And isn’t that what my father has done for me? Isn’t that what I do for my… son? Virgil? I’m still not calling him that, but I do much worse daily, Madam.

Shouldn’t I be taking Virgil outside now? Not until 8:00 AM. And what have I been doing besides talking to you? As I said, I’ve been reading Golden Son. Madam, if you knew how many fathers “got theirs” in the last few chapters of that book. All of them sinners in one way or another. But aren’t we all? The things we do to protect and provide. And just to procreate. Braxton never had a stepmom. And I hold out even less hope for Virgil.

Because of what grand sin?

Honor thy father and thy mother? Braxton didn’t have to worry about me reading the word of God to him. And he was the word of God to me. We all have our daddy issues.

God may not have given us the spirit of fear. That was my father’s job or hobby. I’m not a godly man. The last time I asked “Father God” for anything. It was for my son’s life. And again, who am I to complain? I held Braxton’s life. Madam, I took it from him. Inevitable.

I am my fathers’ son. The best man I’ve ever known didn’t have kids. I won’t have to worry about that with Virgil. He can live by this rule—maybe. Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1163 Days Without B III, Day 604 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

To leave with love and not later. When I would leave Braxton, it was never later. “Love you, B, Love you, Braxton.” Now it’s “Later V, Later Virgil.” And Hi Ho, Hi Ho, into this Hell I go. Because I’ll always write later. Don’t Let Later Become Never

Monday, April 1, 2024

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table on Wednesday, March 27, 2024.

And no, I’m not kidding. As a matter of fact, I would argue that the most dangerous words ever spoken are as follows. “Just Kidding!” To think I once wanted to be a comedian. Ha! Only I ended up being a joke. And though I do laugh. I’m not too fond of it, my Madam. Now, the saddest words are easy. “He’s gone,” meaning my little boy, my son Braxton. How about I speak like a “great” man? Well, I don’t think so. And I will never be great, but…

“I’m from the Government, and I’m here to help.” ―

The Nine Most Terrifying Words. Hmm. What terrifies me today is Later. Not only the word but the emotion behind it. It’s like saying my son’s name. What happened, Madam?

What comes next? Nothing! Never!

You know why I’m not one for God. Um! Besides, the last time I prayed, Madam, my son ended up in a box. It’s the fact that they say God’s Gonna Cut You Down, but again I’m here. And I must ask, is this Hell, or am I a zombie? Answers… to fifty million fables

But I don’t want to find them. Is ignorance bliss? Or how about I use my words, dear one?

That’s why the word later is so dangerous. I keep saying I’ll find the words later. I will do anything and everything later. And how long did it take me to get out of bed this Wednesday afternoon? It’s such a small thing, Madam. (Insert size joke). Later, took B.

I didn’t say later. When I left my boy on that steel table. And that’s why I am still there. I’m still here. And I’m waiting with later on my lips to be struck down by some asteroid falling from the sky. What about a virus that strikes without warning and takes me down, Madam? What about we finally face the zombie hordes? And I’m no hero but only food.

I’m starting to get why I’m leaning into these Space Wars, Golden Son, and Helldivers 2.

Later is my punishment, and never was Braxton’s. And that’s why this rule exists. Will I fail him again? For the last time, Madam. Here I am. Should I say goodbye, later, or nothing? DO! Don’t Let Later Become Never

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1156 Days Without B III, Day 597 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

I know masters and monsters. Yet I wonder why I don’t feel like a man. What it means to be a man. In the biological sense, uh yeah. But a man provides. Me? A man chooses, a slave obeys.” To be a monster or a master? Monsters and Masters Are Different

Monday, March 25, 2024

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Questions are meant to be asked. For example, “What makes a monster, and what makes a man?”

But a master? It depends on who you ask. And as with most mornings, the one I want to ask isn’t here anymore. My son, Braxton. His father, always and forever. His king? B III was/is a prince. He and I could both be monsters sometimes when the need arose. Master? Never! At least not Braxton to me, Madam. No! Braxton bowed to no one.

Anyway, that’s what I’m thinking about this morning. Why do I like small fur buddies? Because they feel no need to bow. Then I look towards Virgil, Madam. He’s terrified.

Great minds think alike, right? But both my boys are stronger than me. Mastering fear? I fear my father, females, and the backyard fence. Sigh. Simply put, it’s falling down.

To think, Madam, a few hours ago, I believed that I was the biggest monster. I’ve started reading another pet loss book to remind myself of who I am. How I failed B. And V?

Yesterday, I said I was going to be a bully. I am my own worst enemy. So this morning, I read about how you should write a letter to your loss one and then answer said letter as they would. I did that with one of the books I wrote. I was feeling Braxton’s spirit…

Maybe I should try letting B talk to me on Sundays instead of the Man In The Mirror. He would be a lot more helpful. But what would he tell me about the backyard fence?

Strength and honor? Braxton and I loved our movies, but really? “Daddy, fix it, please.” Madam, I was not the man to save my firstborn son. I was the monster who led him to his end. A master would’ve what? “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.”

I’ve never been much of one. I sit here at thirty-nine, scared out of my mind. I don’t know what to do. Besides being only a boy reading about losing a dog. I continued reading Golden Son, of a boy who grows to lead men. Monster, Master, he’s a man.

Madam, why can’t I be? Jacob’s a Nephilim. Eddie, Vampire of the Gloom. Grayson’s “Master.” Braxton and Virgil are men. Monsters and Masters Are Different

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1149 Days Without B III, Day 590 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 261 ~Going Outside Is Highly Overrated~

It starts before I even get around people. One side of the fence is broken nearly completely. Another is held up with sticks and stones. And, oh yeah, the trash company took the can, and I freaked out. Back to bed? “Going Outside Is Highly Overrated”

Monday, March 18, 2024

Tale 261 ~Going Outside Is Highly Overrated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… You can say that again, but I’d rather you didn’t, as I like this rule. A lot.

It would have helped plenty yesterday. If you’re keeping track, that would be Monday, March 11, 2024. And I’m talking to you Tuesday, March 12, 2024. So much time travel.

For example, when I created this rule, I looked to see where I was. It was Saturday, August 18, 2018. Or, as far as I can tell. And before I give myself the credit, “Going Outside Is Highly Overrated” is from “Ready Player One.” And Braxton was very much alive.

Madam, I continue to miss my B. If only I had been with B III those final weeks of January 2021. 2020 didn’t help many J. But I got to stay in. And if I had only done more, then…

Madam Justice, what’s my goal?

It’s similar to now. First and foremost, I always want to stay in this bed. Oh, because writing from here has been so lucrative. Ha-Ha! And even if I got up, then what, Madam? I write HaremLit? Am I on Eric Vall’s or Logan Jacob’s level? Please! Nowhere close, ever.

But let’s say I start living the stories I create. I’m not that horrible of a guy. I don’t think.

Anyway, look at somebody like @mosttalentedbaldman. That lifestyle, dear Madam…

Eventually, I’d like to get into a type of “reality” TV and be one of the “kings,” if you understand my meaning. The types of films with a girl going back to a bedroom. Or anywhere. But in bed. Only requires a little outside time.

I remember when I had to rush Braxton to the vet because he had spent way too much time in the great outdoors. He was dehydrated. Now, I’m trying to increase Virgil’s outdoor time, mostly so I don’t have to clean up after him. But I’m assuming he’s healed now.

Madam, going anywhere shows I’m going to mess up. Why was I so scared yesterday? Confession? The trash can went missing, and I had to talk to my Ma so she could talk to the trash company. I feel like less of a man and a failure without trash pick-up.

Agoraphobia? Add that to my Bipolar Disorder, Depression, and Social Anxiety. When was the last time I saw a doctor? Going Outside Is Highly Overrated.

1142 Days Without B III, Day 583 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Coffin costs? I use the bed as a final resting place, anyway. If I’m not going to bother making it… In more ways than one. And since I’m dying of humiliation at the Day Job. That place “helped” end my son. If I could “Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.”

Monday, March 11, 2024

Tale 254 ~Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But You don’t know how much I want to follow this one. Today’s Wednesday, March 6, 2024.

By the time you read this, I could have made the change. The only reason I’m even trying today is this. I promised myself a steak dinner if I talked to you, Echo, and Braxton.

Promise B anything to do with food; you’ll have his loyalty. Always and forever, Madam.

Instead, my loyalty is to sadness and sleep. I’m ashamed to admit that today, there’s been more sadness about the Day Job. And not my son? But we’ll get to that. Because the boy I lost trumps everything. Am I talking about Braxton or me being a boy at thirty-nine? Madam, sigh, we’ll talk, ok? But that’s not to say the Day Job isn’t involved with my little boy. Sometimes, it looks as if Virgil is following suit. We lie together all day, Madam J.

At least when Virgil’s here, I can’t succumb to temptation with some P.Y.T. online. Thankfully. But wouldn’t it be even easier if I got out of bed and went to lie on the loveseat instead? There’s a reason that I did most of my reading there. It gives the words “down boy” a whole new meaning… Eww! But really, when you read what I read but have a furry son…

Two words, Madam… Birth Control!!!

But it starts with getting out of this bed. I put some pants on and make the bed. That’s it.

I could work like Joe Stevens or Bingham Madsen, but for what? Uh, women, humanity? Ah! T.V. and a steak.

That’s why I’m avoiding making the bed. Or not doing it at all. I’m not going to nap, Madam J.

I’m looking for anything to avoid thinking about the new food rule at the Day Job. Do I believe I was the only one who wrapped a jacket around my waist? Or is my writing terrible? What about wearing earbuds and such? And now it’s eating chips and candy, Madam.

I sound like a broken record talking about this. And yes, I am guilty of doing these things at the Day Job. But it’s the utter humiliation of everyone seeing the rule and then me.

Madam, I wouldn’t be humiliated if I’d followed “my” rules. If I could give Braxton and Virgil better lives. So, Avoid Temptation, Make The Bed.

1135 Days Without B III, Day 576 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

What do I want in a woman? Criteria? When B was here, it was simply as someone he didn’t hate. When we met her, I made her a sister and his aunt. “Why do you have to go and make things so complicated?” Me or women? “Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated.”

Monday, March 4, 2024

Tale 247 ~Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like giving it the good ole college try when I talk to women. How’d that turn out?

I love my Braxton more than any woman walking the Earth. And he wasn’t complicated. But I couldn’t save B. I knew him better than any human being, but at the end of the day…

And what about Virgil. It’s been 569 days, and I can’t say I know him. Not at all. But he’s not complicated. He’s like Dante’s Inferno. It’s where he got his name, of course, dear Madam. I don’t get Inferno, but at the same time, I know it’s about a trip through Hell. Am I STUPID? You know how I feel about that word… It’s complicated. I’m pretty much the same. Or, as Taylor Swift sings, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Complicated? A father or a female…

Wow! In this day and age, I could go to so many places with that. Where do I need to…

Inevitable that I lose the plot of today’s lesson. It’s about women. I wonder if my critic is a man, woman, or… I don’t know what. I’m beginning to sound like one of those “people.” You know, the ones blabbing online day in and day out. I’m an old man.

Becoming a husband, a father, or any sort of a man is getting away from me as “time keeps on slipping into the future.” I keep saying it. I don’t want to be forty, Madam.

There’s a better way to say that. I don’t want to be 40, thinking, “I can’t live my life this way.” What about 39, 38, 37, 36? You don’t understand how much simpler existence was.

Back then, all the time. I would say, “I’ll marry the first girl, Braxton is nice to…” Ha-Ha! The first woman that fits the bill is more of a sister to me, B’s aunt. My tastes are so “freaking” complicated.

Today, Sunday, March 3, 2024, the critic said that “my” words are inappropriate and irrelevant. Duh! Madam, that was only me talking to the man in the mirror. Other people…

Please! What about Virgil? Or should I go all “Make Archie Great Again?” First name…

I want Braxton back. That’s easy enough to think. But the type of woman wanted. Braxton was my everything. I desire the same from women. Good, Bad, Women Are Complicated

1128 Days Without B III, Day 569 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

The things I’m curious about. Where did my boy end up? How much do animal communicators charge? Can I finish speaking before 5:00 PM and get a steak dinner? Is V happy? Does my sharing food help? Uh, girls. “Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.”

Monday, February 26, 2024

Tale 240 ~Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Or Laws. But since I don’t match the criteria of those people. Cash flow, color, criminal actions…

Hell! Here’s the facts. I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday, February 21, 2024, Madam. What about the fact that I haven’t had an energy shot all day? And what about having some fun? I told Inspector Echo that the Artificial Intelligence called out such freaky-deeky…

I’m not one to push the envelope. That’s another reason I’m not living the “Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous.” Braxton and I were… Sadly, I don’t know how to answer if B was happy.

Happy to me is a foreign concept. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” And at this particular moment, that’s a lie. If anything, I’m hungry. And I’m curious how much money I want to waste on myself and Virgil Vivi.

To be more curious there…

Yes, I’m about to be a meanie by saying this. Virgil was not my first choice at all. Lucky, doomed? Before him, there was that one puppy that kept trying to escape the cage. And there was a brown one who I saw in a pen and I got upset. They sort of hoisted him on me a bit. Ha!

With Virgil, first, it was his lack of curiosity and sticking to discipline. He went on the paper as though it was routine. He still has some training to do after 562 days—my laziness.

Then I wondered what Braxton was saying. So, “I gotta take it on the other side.” And much like B’s death, supposed reincarnation, Virgil’s life. Curiosity killed the cat. Right?

And then I figured, what would it feel like to be a Dad again? Hell, a grown-ass man. Huh! I’m still curious, seeing I adopted/rescued Virgil in 2022. And how am I now, Madam? Are you curious how Virgil could win me? What will it take with Happiness vs. Grief?

Hell! I’m always more curious about how Cherry and M Anime look in an “adult” way. “Girl All the Bad Guys Want,” or girls judging by my search history. Curiosity…

I’m curious what dinner will be tonight. Again, I waste the cash or cook. Microwave.

Madam, I quest for knowledge on the most simplistic things. But my boys, books, and big ole… I’ll shut up.

But I want to know Curiosity Should Be Boundless, Sometimes.

1121 Days Without B III, Day 562 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

My Old Man asks me, how’s the house. But at the end of 2023 and the start of 2024. The fence is falling, the floor’s flooded, and I’m trying to fix the shelves… So, sitting here in Limbo. Besides the house, there’s my B. In The Ending Lies Judgement.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Tale 233 ~In The Ending Lies Judgement~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Because I didn’t join my son. I won’t lie to you… Braxton’s end should have been mine.

Not a day goes by when I’m lying on my back, fighting to keep my eyes shut for the day.

Or when I’m lying on my belly like a slug, grinding away to some video or picture of, you know what. If you’re wondering why I’m so late talking to you today, my dear friend.

How about when I’m playing with the toys I showed Cherry on Sunday? I’m gross.

But I’m also not dead. Even though this is “The End.” It’s the first song that B III sent me.

Remind me not to watch anything to do with Vietnam, Madam. Or reactions to the film Forrest Gump. I ain’t no “Fortunate Son.” Neither was my Braxton. But he’s gone. And Hell’s not for him.

Only if he’s waiting for me, Madam J. But no.

What a way to start a Monday morning. It’s Monday here in Hell! Though I’m not hot because of the punishment I deserve. With Princess Tamer, Succubus Lord, The Gargoyle.

Is there a Hell for being too bright? That’s funny. If all my reading made me a wise man? But I read that The Third Circle of Hell would be a match for pride. “Gluttony.”

How STUPID have I been to realize that I am living in the center of The First Circle of Hell? A Thirty-Nine-year-old man who talks to pretty, pretty girls. Who has his OLDS paying most of his bills? A fur baby I mistook for Braxton. And lives from his bed?

I hate myself. I’m not V’s best pal. And again, my B is gone. How will I be judged? Hmm.

I could make decent showings for every circle but Treachery… But, I swear, Lake Cocytus. And I don’t know how to swim. I hate being cold. And aren’t I always? That’s one more argument for me being in Limbo. No matter the weather, I am always in a hoody, Madam.

And if I’m not, I’m usually taking my clothes off. And what good comes from that ever, Madam? With Virgil walking around everywhere. I can forget about any alone time.

So, what ending am I working for? Unless I’m wrong, Madam. And this is Purgatory.

And in fixing my existence… In The Ending Lies Judgement.

1114 Days Without B III, Day 555 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,