This time last Saturday, life was beating me down, but I had the “love” of a “good” woman. Rico and Carmen. Time keeps on slipping into the future as Seal sang. T-minus eight days until E-Day. I hate Sundays. It’s Saturday. Braxton and Virgil Clocked

Saturday, August 30, 2025
Journey 060 ~Braxton and Virgil Clocked~
Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… “And it’s been awhile” as the song goes that I haven’t found something to complain about.
But I would never EVER take that out on my boys. And isn’t that why B III got his Lu?
Being so angry that I ignored him, I was INDIFFERENT. And when I recognized… Lunalesca, Braxton was all but gone. We’re talking Thursday through Saturday.
Lunalesca, Sunday was Braxton’s “great getting’ up mornin’” No, I’m not John Rawlins, aka Morgan Freeman from Glory. Though I’m sure Virgil is looking forward to his morning Glory. Uh, bathroom break. And that’s because I feel like the butt of a rifle has hit me after yesterday. That’s what bad writing, watching the wall, and realizing you’ve wasted your life does to you. I was literally sitting in the car, telling myself AHEM, Congratulations, you wasted your life “Forty-One.”
T-Minus eight days until E-Day. Have I ever told you how much I hate Sundays? And yes, I know what day it is. 1672 days ago, my son Braxton died on a Sunday. M Anime broke up with me last Sunday. This coming Sunday. Will I even be able to watch WWE’s Clash in Paris? And the Sunday after that is EFFING E-Day. Emergence, Existence, Extinction, and possible Evolution. And I did say my head hurt, didn’t I? Both heads.
Effing M Anime is still on the brain? In more ways than one. “I don’t know why I didn’t come.” Inside her? First off, Eww! Secondly, I’m not Norah Jones. And third, stop wasting time. What, on beating myself up? When will I be happy?
When the hands of the clock aren’t beating me down. When I can’t hear the incessant ticking. When I don’t take a look around and see the crumbling, cracking, and creepy crawlers. Not to mention the MAGA Cracker Hats. When I don’t count out food and tell myself to savor the TASTE, and all I get are toxins all over. And SMELL? I hate breathing.
As I hate the beat of my heart, the day of my birth, the loss of my Braxton. And boobies?
Copeus Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, Humongous Headlights, Milky Monsters, Behemoth Boobies, Colossal Contours, Gigantic Floppa Whoppers.
Yabbos.
I can’t hate Yabbos. Not even M Anime’s which I was thinking about this morning.
Lunalesca, when will I speak to her again? It’s been almost a week. Years, Lunalesca. Friendship destroyed in seconds. Tick Tock. Braxton and Virgil Clocked.
All of my life
Where have you been
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again
And if that day comes
I know we could win
I wonder if I’ll ever see you again
1672 Days Without B III, Day 1113 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will