When will I be? The GQP talks a lot of S*** about when life begins. Most days I spend lamenting when my son’s life ended. Bad choice of words. Furry with four legs… no less my son. One worth living for because for myself, I still ask. When will I be
Saturday, June 4, 2022
Chronicle 338 ~When Will I B~
Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So that means I should get used to being interviewed. But I find myself censored more.
When will I lose this Republican ideology? That’s not the question I meant to start with today, but I’m tired for many different reasons. Even getting up at 4:00 AM. Ok, and then? When will I start writing… well, anything for real? As I said, I struggle to get up. And that’s with January 31, 2021, and January 11, 2022. And now, Camp NaNoWriMo will begin next month. As I said yesterday, besides the urge to pee, there’s the need to write. When will I do anything at all? Yesterday it felt like there was so much to do. And yet I feel like nothing was accomplished. Not a damn thing, Lady Lunalesca, but missing my boy. Mourning Braxton is my PROFESSION. I’m no Spartan.
Willy, what is your profession? Lunalesca, there are so many places I can go with that. Am I talking about, Stuff and Thangs, OnlyFans, just being, um, skeevy. Fucking word! Luna? Is it the fact that I don’t know who I am anymore? Not even how to spell my name? My name? As if it were ever my own, to be honest. Hell! I’ve always hated it, so you know. What am I doing with this existence? If the last few minutes are any indication… Well, I was going to say wasting my time. My time? Nothing belongs to me. Or that’s what I feel. Every day there’s one more reason to miss my son. Now he was mine because he chose me above all.
Why? Now that is the question of the hour. Um, several hours considering what I’ve been doing since, yes, 4:00 in the morning. Now it’s 6:30 AM, and what do I have to show Lu? Why do I exist in this routine? It’s not even a Saturday routine. It’s the wake-up, write, and/or post. Either go to the Day Job, the store, there’s PetSmart, and it all leads back to this bed to do nothing in the slightest. Nothing is stopping me from staying in bed. Closing my eyes B. Why aren’t you trying to find me? I’ll never get his eyes out of my mind. Can you blame me for going to PetSmart? It’s where I’ll be. But to LIVE? When Will I B
489 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,