Saga 233 ~Medicine Time B… Virgil~

I let Virgil out when it’s time for B’s morning meds. Braxton’s evening meds, again V’s out. Can’t have him hear me call out for B III. And there’s alone time. Not crying or comatose. Releasing insanity in two ways. One, Medicine Time B… Virgil.

Sunday, February 19, 2023

Saga 233 ~Medicine Time B… Virgil~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I know you’re saying… “You moron! What were you thinking?! Do you realize what this means?!”

As if you have time for some “Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.” Better days. A few years before Braxton even? Only in about 45 minutes. You’ll have to untwist your legs and go get his meds. Too Little, Too Late, right? Meds for the dead? But Virgil can go out. Which again reminds me that this is all my fault. And you have to deal with All I’ve Done, hmm? You were supposed to go out today to pay for my mistakes. Last night before I fell asleep, watching WWE Elimination Chamber. I looked up Urgent Care, GoodRx, and CVS. Looking over at the table opposite B’s Memorial, it’s a fucking crime scene. Another one. Energy drinks, an empty medicine bottle… Oh, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Dystopian Girls 3 by Rodzil LaBraun
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 044 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 051 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Let’s talk about #4, which is why you’re in this mess. I want to be all Bill Withers “I know, I know, I know….” Again, I’m the one to blame. And all the I’m Sorry’s in the world aren’t going to put cash in your wallet. Every day you turn more into your father. Dammit! History repeats itself. So if you’re not your father, you’re a fucking Republican. So gross. So there’s Tuesday, January 11, 2022, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. Thursday, February 16, 2023, The Cherry Collision. “Hey I oughta leave young thing alone.” Fucking Bill Withers, man. More like a 21-year-old actress. A 20-year-old video game vixen. And a 25-year-old poet. And that’s on top of everything on Twitter. So, Six Impossible Things

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING NSFW: A Novel by Isabel Kaplan
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 051 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You don’t seem to have the time. Because you’ll be way too busy or have forgotten. I have no advice this week and hope… “Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” Therapy, Counseling, Institutions? Forget it. That’s what I wish for. Every day you’ll wish for Braxton to come running down the stairs when you call. “Medicine time, B; come get your medicine.” As mean as you are to Virgil, him sleeping by your side every night… You’ll wish he never needs meds. Fuck! I wish I’d come on the 15th, so The Cherry Collision never happened. To Forget. That’s the gift. No doctors, no pain, especially no stupidity. Nope! Medicine Time B… Virgil

749 Days Without B III, Day 190 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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