Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

I’m mad as Hell as history repeats itself. And while I didn’t learn shit like don’t text my “father,” AC repair bills suck. I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. And that’s burning books. I rather burn myself. But with my Treachery… B Raging, Sorry V

Friday, August 26, 2022

Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I draw the line at burning books. Now burning people, myself included? But my treachery…

Oh yes, Lady Sophia, I deserve this coolness, this cold, to try my best impression of a corpse today. And for once, this isn’t only about Braxton. Hell! If I woke up early on more mornings to write, edit, and publish? My little Braxton could have lived longer. Before I forget, fuck you, Hemingway! I will do that whenever I use a word that ends in LY. Don’t worry. There is plenty of rage in my heart today. It’s keeping me warm. Warm enough that I’m sitting at the table. Instead of burning up in bed. Yet I slept. But I didn’t rest. I might have gotten a minute or two. My “father” knows how to ruin these nights. Why not try this entire existence?

And I shouldn’t be this pissed, My Lady, I know. If I look at my bills and who pays the majority of them. But when one man lies to my face about money just so another bastard can get the satisfaction of bleeding me dry? Doing this for V? I swear, Sophia, I rather burn. Oh, how I hate him. And yet that is one more reason I hate the “Man in the Mirror” now. I mean my “Dad” and not V. I don’t want to say I’m indifferent to the little guy, Lady Sophia. Looks like I haven’t learned my lesson from what happened to Braxton. To feel nothing. It’s like I have a fucking fever. And not in a good way. Heat, Cold?

Sure I could talk about Velma from Scooby Doo or Cherry. If Virgil wasn’t around and I wasn’t stewing over the loss of hundreds of dollars. Mind you that I said I wouldn’t pay. Let me burn. Aren’t I a man of my word? Fuck, am I a man ever? To B’s Aunt, I keep my word. No, I betrayed myself, I know. I lay in bed last night with a sigh of relief, but my “father” called, then texted. I don’t know what I would have done if I had heard his voice. It wouldn’t be sitting here for two hours talking to you and watching Scooby Doo porn. Sorry, sex trumps sleep but sadness? There’s only fear and rage. B Raging, Sorry V

572 Days Without B III, Day 013 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

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