Saga 039 ~Where We’ll B Escaping~

Didn’t I speak last week about Treachery? I haven’t betrayed a woman, my crappy Day Job, or my country. What, I’m not a “Trumptard.” Anyway, today required making several moves, and not one of them is leading back to bed. Where We’ll Be Escaping

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Saga 039 ~Where We’ll B Escaping~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be pretty good at escaping. An armory, bunker, tickets to non-extradition nations…

This week I’ve been reading, well… 21% of this book, “Until we Meet Again.” Of course, there’s a chapter talking about “escaping” grief. More so, the impossibility of doing such. Now to be clear, I don’t want to. Ok, It’s been 555 days since B III. Not long enough, love. Only I envy him. You can take that however you want. And It could be the fact that the A/C is all screwy. You know I prefer the heat to the cold any day. What I’ll have to do to fix it… Anyway, I woke up this morning, and as with most things, they tie back to my son. Braxton would be hiding under the bed because it would be cooler. In bed all day…

Well, as I said, B under it. But I’d like to stay in bed. I’m reminded of the Day Job, my “Dad,” and whatever the Devil has in store for me. But to escape with B, my son my dog. Nope! These days it’s always about my dick. And you’re asking me, well, what’s wrong with that? My desire, my delight, my darling? As the song goes, “but we’re not making love no more. We’re not even trying to change.” I know. It’s only me who’s changing. Or I did. I can’t anymore. There’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere to be without my B. Hell! I have you, I want to croon out: “there’s nowhere on earth that I’d rather be than holding you tenderly.”

Music and me, such is my escape. And to keep it going … “If I lay here if I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” Because where is there to go, I’ll ask? I could get up and be the dad I want to be with our children. Work on making more. My business today is nothing like the Day Job. What gentlemen wouldn’t enjoy this life? Didn’t I finish writing a book? Only it’s no different than the one I’m reading. All about dead fur babies again. I don’t mean to be harsh, but that’s the thing. I might as well appreciate the heat. Because Treachery is one cold as ice sin. But, Where We’ll Be Escaping.

555 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

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