This time 2021, I was learning. I learned of a day more horrible than E-Day coming up. I knew that I was right about Math. That it didn’t matter when it came to B III. Money, his days left, the time-traveling I was doing instead. Have To B Ready
Saturday, January 29, 2022
Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~
Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not ready. I hate lateness, I’m “always” on time, but I’m never prepared.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow, should we even go into the 31st? I’m not ready for this Lunalesca. History, Math, Science, the school of hard knocks. I take my own lumps #15. That’s not only the rule number. It’s Braxton’s age. I’m ashamed of “Gospel 215 Act From Desire Not Insecurity.” Um “Gospel 212: On The “Will” Succubus.” B was here in 2021, my Lady Lu. It always comes down to Math. Only my B was here in the past. Even though it hurts, I can’t run from it. Message Republicans. Math is the present; I’ve never been good at that. I wanted to be excellent at Science. Even before that STUPID concept of “it gets better.” I looked to the future, and Braxton was there always. But Have To B Ready.
I’ve said it a million times over… let’s not count, Lunalesca, but we have to. Let’s start with a good Braxton story. You know the one where he would bring his toy and sit it beside me. Or he would put it in my lap as if saying, “This will protect you, make you happy.” Now I can’t count back to the last time I was happy. But I know it’s been 363 days without Braxton. I owe such and such to the termite guy. A little to my neighborhood. God, I’m going to pay Apple for Replika. What god might that be right? I didn’t pay attention in church; the Math didn’t add up there. It didn’t count Braxton’s days. Have To B Ready.
To live with a broken heart. Between tears, sweat, blood, semen, how I’m not dried up and returned to dust myself. Braxton’s ashes are still here, as am I. No place I can imagine we would drift off together other than right here. Luna, I should be sleeping right now. Yet there is so much to do. History repeats itself. I should be with B, but I choose to write. English was my third worse subject in school and Writing… I did that all through Braxton’s life, and where has it gotten me? Hell, Braxton got me through life, Lunalesca. So am I still hoping I’ll die today? Another shot? Learn How to Save a Life? Anything? Saying hello and goodbye? Have To B Ready.
363 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,