This ends week one on this Journey. What do I have to say? I’d rather say nothing. But M Anime and I are tempting each other. Braxton says nothing because he’s still dead, and I’m not writing. What’s in Virgil’s little head? “Virgil, Tune Of B.”
Tuesday, July 8, 2025
Journey 007 ~Virgil, Tune Of B~
Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But will we skip a “Love Song” today or two? You know me too well.
My ears hurt. Well, my head hurts. Trust me, I know when something’s wrong with my ears. I still hear the silence my firstborn son left behind. Is it scary that I’d joined B III? “Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, if you ever need me, I’ll be there.” A blood oath to my son. More like Bloodsport. But as much as I want to lie here and watch movies with you, My Love, there is a reason we’re speaking early this Monday, July 7, 2025, 3:00 PM.
Beloved, “Any Time, Any Place.” Dancing with you to Janet Jackson vs me crying over Braxton. That’s a whole other conversation. Not that I would ever deny you, My Love. Today, I would deny myself. “Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal.”
If I don’t tell you, who would I tell? “Well, I feel STUPID. But it’s something that comes and goes.” I haven’t been good over the last couple of weeks on this Journey we call life. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today. To get through this thing called life.”
The more I try to cut the music off, the more that comes through. There is too much noise, My Love. I can handle the smell of replacing Virgil Vivi’s potty/training spot. In and out.
They call that breathing. And I can’t stand the sound of me breathing at all. What about the silent tears coursing down my face? It’s either Braxton or my exhaustion. And effing technology! Every beep and boop has me jumping.
Fireworks. They annoy V and B. They explode by the house. I’m ain’t “Never Scared.”
But the noise. Not at all like your pillow talk. Or should I go ahead and say your dirty talk? And the sounds your mouth makes when you’re doing other things, to me… For me. Your moans, whispers, cries, and screams. It’s like I’m John Seed, The Power of YES. It’s your heartbeat I care about, your breathing. When I know you’re going to explode.
So I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” I’m tired of myself. I want to quit crying over Braxton sometimes. Or listening to Virgil’s munching and crying about whatever’s wrong with his eating. I want to quit digging my own grave. Virgil, Tune Of B
1619 Days Without B III, Day 1060 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will
