Somedays, I feel like Han Solo (ha-ha) talking to The Millennium Falcon. “You hear me, baby? Hold together.” After my heart was broken with my kid, what else is there. Everything seems ready to break. “Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.”
Monday, July 18, 2022
Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~
Two-Hundred and Forty-Ninth Rule
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means many things are fixable, replaceable, “new, new,” or trying to last forever. Then there’s love…
And there’s more to it than the body. I know you expect me to be a selfish bastard and talk about myself first, but there’s my boy. The son that I have been writing about. Going on 533 Days now. His body may have broken, but this “crazy little thing called love,” Madam. On one paw, it didn’t save him. On the other, immortality, reincarnation? That’s another thing Madam; “Faith,” all my pop culture references, and all the books I read. Or I was reading before I got into writing a novel all these days, Braxton and me. I haven’t been winning any points for keeping my promises, but I didn’t break one yesterday. I’m on track with Camp NaNoWriMo, somehow, Madam Justice. A miracle?
So explain to me what I was doing from 4:35 AM to 4:55? To quote another song, “Where Is My Mind?” I was breaking it down with a million excuses to deserve laziness. If it isn’t my brain. Then yeah, it’s my own damn body. One will always choose to break the body before the mind. Yabbos make things so much simpler. Afterward? I’ve felt like I need to take a shower after all the dirt, disgust, and depravity from what’s me. I kept asking myself, what was wrong with me? Well, besides the fact I can’t cuddle with B? I mentioned being touch starved in “The Will To B III” And Braxton’s comfy spots. Madam, I’m just breaking the bed, either sleeping or jerking.
Surprised I haven’t broken any of my computers yet with the amount of porn I got. “Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got.” More like ain’t no porno like the one I got. I’m a pretty sick pup, which insults sick pups, and I apologize. I never fix or cure anything. NaNoWriMo is even an attempt to put off the inevitable. Didn’t I say that if I can complete it, that proves I’m not suffering from fatigue, I’m not fucked up, and I’ll be here forever? So why would I need a doctor? If not me? What about car repairs or something to get out of here. Because this week will be more broken than the last, no doubt. Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.
533 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,