I don’t say I live… I exist. Nothing’s mine, and what was or is my son, the Indifference that killed him, owning it. What about V? I spend days pushing him to go up the stairs, to the door, etc. Being a “Dad,” dog training. Spelling Virgil Without B.
Saturday, January 21, 2023
Saga 204 ~Spelling Virgil Without B~
Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I didn’t have to be the most intelligent man on the planet to accomplish this.
Being full of hate, joining a cult, and having no morals would get the job done. Which, of course, doesn’t explain why I’m sitting here at nine in the morning in bed. Or 99.9% of the GOP/GQP who would instead stay poor and racist above all else, Lady Lunalesca. Though if I could have my B III back, I wouldn’t need a billion. Did I say that out loud? Again if you’re wondering why I’m speaking to you so late, Lady Lunalesca… I couldn’t give up porn. Oh, I’m still dry, but it’s getting crazy. I heard anger is more useful than despair. So I suppose horny at least gets you up, or something up. Can I say I’m still in the Depression stage, Lunalesca?
Because it will never be Acceptance. Speaking of 99.9%, I’m sure that Virgil ain’t Braxton. It could be because it’s January. But yes, I have been tougher on Virgil these days. There’s some version of dog training afoot. Virgil has no courage. How about practicing what I preach, Lady Luna? Putting one foot in front of the other? Nope! He does what he has to. After that, he returns to his bed/pillow and stays there scared indefinitely. Giving him attention? Is that the lesson I should be learning? Fighting Indifference? I keep saying it, Lunalesca. It was Indifference that killed Braxton. I don’t own much, but my Braxton and Indifference led to my becoming a murderer. And now, nothing in the world makes any sense.
Or it’s only me. And you wonder why I don’t want to get up off my ass, to go shopping. Hell! I was up on time and immediately said twenty more minutes. Bullshit spam text. Yeah, that’s another twenty minutes. I realized nothing was plugged in. I’ll wait till five. I didn’t want to start complaining to you. So I clear most of my emails until six. Two more hours looking at porn until, thankfully, eight. Braxton’s official medicine time, and Virgil goes outside. He’s been in his room since six. Virgil’s outside, cappuccino, breakfast? From eight-thirty to nine, more porn. That’s been today like the song goes, Mad World. Or sad, lazy, fucked up. Existing over life. Hate vs. Indifference. Spelling Virgil Without B
720 Days Without B III, Day 161 of Virgil’s Arrival
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will