Last week? Why I’m not a millionaire or billionaire… Every Day Is Exactly the Same. Wake up late, conversate, take a break, masturbate, life to fake, accept my fate, dream my mistakes. Wash, rinse, repeat. Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil.
Saturday, July 8, 2023
Tale 007 ~Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil~
Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But I think to myself I should state facts —Braxton’s dead. I’m wrong. I like blowjobs…
Hell is repetition. Whether what I say is the truth or a lie. Hell! Why not a little of both… Who am I now, Erwin Schrodinger? Lady Lunalesca, don’t look up Hell in the morning. So I say I’m a billionaire going on seven years now. Not always. But I don’t want to look it up. I’ll go back to searching for porn. I’ve been sitting here listening to Balance. Meditation runs amuck and all that. I can’t say that it’s been helping. And yet here we are, Lady Lunalesca. And why? I tell everyone how many days Braxton’s been gone. But how many days have I been meditating? Ninety-eight days, 115 hrs, and 59 mins at last count. And? “Insane in da membrane,” Lunalesca.
For Hell is the impossibility of reason, Lady Lunalesca. Do you remember when I was all in my motivational phase? The way I would burn through Spotify for inspiring words. Speaking of which, I don’t have enough money for audiobooks. I do, but you know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. Yesterday I was talking about that 50/30/20 Rule. Money spent? Lunalesca, you don’t want to know. But plugging my ears to listen to people’s prattling. All because I don’t want to hear other people talking all day. Their insanity, madness. Then at the same time, I’ll complain that my ears are all stopped up with earwax. I know Lady Lunalesca; that’s some TMI, right? Braxton was so loud, but to hear my little boy B.
“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” They say one of the wisest men ever said that. So here I am, trying to be a dad again with V. At the onset of our conversations, Lady Lunalesca, I could be saying one more thing. Please! Not those mean words. “He’s not my son.” Again who am I, Lady Lunalesca? Looking into the mirror (eww), I have yet to become Joel Miller from The Last of Us. The world he lived in would drive anyone crazy. And yet he kept going. He tried, you know.
“You’re not my [son]. And I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” Joel Miller, TLOU
But “Who Wants To Live Forever?” Even in Hell. Every one! Braxton, Virgil, even me. Fact or question to meditate on. Braxton’s Doggone Insanity Virgil
888 Days Without B III, Day 329 of Virgil’s Arrival
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will