Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will