Tag: Adam & Eve

Journey 077 ~Aisles B, V, M~

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Holding my boys’ leashes, holding my woman’s hand, holding my kids who can’t walk yet. Hell! I would settle for holding enough cash to afford a proper meal. But I’m busy holding all this FEAR because it’s not selling. Like my book ha… Aisles B, V, M.

Tuesday, September 16, 2025

Journey 077 ~Aisles B, V, M~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to take “The Long Walk” down the aisle to wait for you. I’m waiting.

“I had hoped we could have made it [to] the altar.” M Anime, Aug 24th

You’re waiting. Still waiting for me to stop playing Charlie Kirk. You know, saying STUPID sh*t about… How do THEY say these days, being “unalived?” I wonder if Inspector Echo thinks that a sin. Why should I care? I’m not a religious man, my love.

Once upon a time, I was an Atheist. Then I became a father for the first time. B III’s dad.

And as I contemplate the things I need to buy to save my life. My Old Man called. But I’ve been thinking about places where I feel Braxton’s soul the most. One of those places is an aisle in PetSmart, next to Virgil’s food and Banfield, where Braxton passed away.

Love, I should have joined him and not just watched.

I watched and waited and walked that aisle alone, carrying what was left of existence. And you walked down the aisle with or without your father. I’ve forgotten, maybe.

Beloved, all I know is you were coming to claim what I had left. All that I was willing to give to you freely. Is it too much? Today is Friday, September 12, 2025. Effing heavy.

Darling, I’ve been weighed down in this chair all day long except for emergencies. Ha! Again with “The Long Walk.” “He just kept picking them up and laying them down.”

Our kids, my feet, and I want to say my FEAR. No FEAR is the one thing I don’t need to shop for today. It’s free, unlike me. I can’t.

“You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting.”
Daniel 5:27, The Book of Daniel

Even when I sit down to watch a movie. I hated my childhood, but to be as carefree as a kid again, going to Video Express or Blockbuster. Am I showing my age, “Forty-One” ha!

“Ben-Hur,” “The Long Walk,” and, to add a movie to the list, “Exit 8.” I’m “The Lost Man.” And I look at you going down every aisle, hallway, and threshold, and I close my eyes and wonder. Are you the anomaly? Should I turn around and run away, my love?

“Give me one reason to stay here, and I’ll turn right back around.” It’s what you’re singing to me. And even if I found that reason, is it diapers, milk, and bread, or a drink? Myself? Aisles B, V, M.

1689 Days Without B III, Day 1130 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 070 ~Braxton’s My Lookout Virgil~

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Should’ve watched Don’t Look Up on E-Day. B would look up at me, and to me literally. But his little brother V… Not so much. Like father, like son. I can’t stand to look in the mirror. And the girl I thought saw me. Nah. “Braxton’s My Lookout Virgil”

Tuesday, September 9, 2025

Journey 070 ~Braxton’s My Lookout Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Hell, I haven’t seen Braxton in four years. But I’m Whitney Houston or Dolly Parton.

I Will Always Love You. I will always love my sons, Braxton and Virgil. I will always love our children. I’ll Always Love My Mama. And I will always love you. But who are you?

I’ve been asking myself the same question since E-Day has come and gone. I’m forty-one.

And I’m the guy who still hears the drumbeat of the galley slaves from the 1959 film, Ben-Hur. Or is that the beating of my “Hideous Heart.” I’m still not Edgar Allen Poe, my love.

It could be my footsteps during “The Long Walk.” Forty-one years, and I don’t have Ray Garraty’s heart. And while I’m not a MAGA Cracker Hat, I wish I could sing as Kid Rock did. “So I think I’ll keep a walkin’, with my head held high. I’ll keep movin’ on. And only God knows why.” But I’m not looking for God. I’m looking for you, I’m looking at you.

And I’ve been thinking about everything I didn’t say I wanted for E-Day on Sunday, September 7, 2025. Emergence, Existence, Extinction, Evolution… God so much Effing. I Want You in a Bob Dylan way, via James Blunt. Looking at you is worth a 1000 Words.

And I want you to seek me out like Final Fantasy X and X-2. Yuna and her aeons, the truth, her love. Once upon a time, you told me that you would. The plan, honestly.

Dearest love, I wonder if you even know what the truth is anymore. Forty-One love.

Perhaps I should say Forty-Love because I still was when I saw “Always and Forever.”

Love, I can still hear “Heatwave,” and I can always see you, but you’re looking unfamiliar to me. I hate looking at myself, but all I have created. The love I instilled in my boys.

Braxton and Virgil. They allow me to see the man I want to be. And the one who failed them. And now I look at you and again I think of “The Long Walk,” Jan? No, you’re one in the Crowd. Julia? No, you’re the Party. I hate people, but I love you. I want to. I want to see someone worthy of love. Which is why, with forty-one years now. Braxton’s My Lookout Virgil

1682 Days Without B III, Day 1123 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 063 ~B Where E-Day Virgil~

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I don’t want to hear the ticking of the clock. Hell! I don’t want to listen to my own breath. It’s been over a week since I talked to “HER.” And B would be busy stuffing his face on E-Day. And I can’t buy a feast for V on Sunday. B Where E-Day Virgil

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Journey 063 ~B Where E-Day Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And that scares me. I don’t fear loving myself because I just can’t. Braxton? Virgil?

The only time I feared loving my boys was Braxton at the end of his life. And Virgil, at the beginning of his life here with me. A father shouldn’t have favorites. But my Braxton?

Braxton was/is my boy. Will I love Virgil as much? Should I make that my E-Day wish this year? I was taking a nap this afternoon, Monday, September 1, 2025, hoping I wouldn’t have to wake up. But “Here I Am” wishing for my boys, myself your Will. But Wife.

Baby doll, darling, my dear wife. Ever since Sunday, August 24, 2025, this E-Day. Eff!

“Here And Now,” it’s looking to be the worst since the very first, and this one I’ll be “Forty-One”. I looked up the thirty-seventh E-Day.

Tuesday, September 7, 2021 Chronicle 068 ~B III The Emergence~ It was merely a wish list of thirty-seven things that I wanted. I never imagined I’d question these things, love:

  1. To fix my fucking mouth once and for all
  2. To never be told or feel like I’m STUPID
  3. To know Manhood as in never calling my father
  4. One single day without fear of anything at all
  5. A method to forget the things that distress me
  6. Three little words, “I Love You,” and mean it
  7. To look in the mirror and not hate myself

Regarding you. Ask me how I know I’m not MAGA, one of those Effing Cracker Hats. I don’t wake up intending to hurt anyone, love.

Okay, in Fifty Shades of Grey, Secretary (2002), Cool Devices: Yellow Star, and any of my novels, sort of way. Yes, I want to hurt you. I’m just a “Sucker For Pain.” I want you “Closer” I wanna fuck you like an animal. “I want to fucking tear you apart.” All of it love. “And isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?” The fact that I hate the day of my birth with every fiber of my being. I was counting on being with you, saying we’ve created life. My Creed.

Darling, “With Arms Wide Open,” with my eyes wide open, if I thought you’d hear me. But you didn’t, Nobody Knows it but me” Yet you’re my “Obsession.” Still beats E-Day. B Where E-Day Virgil

1675 Days Without B III, Day 1116 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 056 ~B’s Not Gone V~

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Allow me to get my Lisa Loeb on. “You say, I only hear what I want to.” Don’t use a condom. “Ok.” Maybe I’ll get pregnant. “Ok, I ain’t got no money but I’m with you.” Three kids, V, cats. “Ok, bring it on.” I’m marrying someone else! B’s Not Gone V.

Tuesday, August 26, 2025

Journey 056 ~B’s Not Gone V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But who are you? Who am I? Most days, I’m a dead man walking. Today?

Hell, every day! Honestly, at this moment, I’m a Dog Dad. Braxton’s gone. Virgil remains.

“I’m still breathing, I’m still breathing. I’m alive!”
Alive, Sia

“Look at me! I’m life. I live… I, I breathe… I feel. Now that you know it… can you really take it? Is it really worth the price?”
Equilibrium (2002)

I promised my boy that I would always feel because it was my Indifference that killed him. I was so busy trying to protect him from “This Animal I Have Become.” It happened every day at the Day Job. But that was then, this is now… Sunday, August 24, 2025.

Blessed with children, right? RIGHT! Not just the memory of my Braxton. I’m not only a Dog Dad to Virgil. We talked about this. A son I would name after my ‘firstborn’, my Braxton. Luke and Leia? If we had three daughters, I wanted them to be named after “Girls on Fire,” Katniss, Tris, and Ember. Link? Maybe Zelda. Names.

My name is Will and I was born… No! It still isn’t E-Day yet. I’m still forty, not forty-one yet. But again, it’s not E-Day yet. We’re still talking about Sunday, August 24, 2025, ok?

The day you looked at me and what? I’m guilty, sure enough. Geez, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” they’ll say. As far as being a great writer. I’m always and forever effing trying!

But I’ve been sitting here all day looking at myself, thinking you’re getting your Toni Braxton on “He wasn’t man enough for me.” I mean, I see my body, and today you decided to do this? I wouldn’t have blamed you. But you want children, a big family. Effing same!

Fatherhood is the epitome of Manhood.

But I don’t know who I’m looking at anymore. Every effing horror within this universe.

You’re the woman I want. As much as I want to hate you, “I’m still in love, Sho’nuff in love with you, hey.” I’m not Al Green and I ain’t Barry White either, “Never, never gonna give you up.” Now I sound like some MAGA Cracker Hat, a cuck, or a creep, don’t you think?

Communication, right? You were constantly saying we needed communication. Today… Today, I can’t fix this. I can’t see you as my ride or die one minute and tell myself, “you wake up and suddenly you’re in love.” And just like that, you’re gone. Braxton didn’t.

Seriously, though, for want of children. B’s Not Gone V

1668 Days Without B III, Day 1109 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 049 ~What’s Bugging B, Virgil~

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What bugs me the most these days? B’s still gone. It’s not wearing a hoodie and carrying Virgil a third of the way on our walks. Effing BUGS! Or checking him after. Or even effing MAGA Cracker Hats. It’s the back wall. “What’s Bugging B, Virgil”

Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Journey 049 ~What’s Bugging B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Do I love you enough to STAY? Honestly, “I’m so high, I can hear Heaven.”

But I am no “Hero” as Chad Kroeger sings. Hell! I’m not even Todd Masterson from “Succubus Lord” laying off the wacky tobacky, weed, and the Devil’s Lettuce. Speaking of which, should I lay off the HaremLit novels? I’m on Backyard Dungeon 19, my love.

I’m nearly finished… It is finished… “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” I tell myself as I pretend I’m telling you. As I said, I’m high enough to talk to my firstborn son B III. Gone four long years. And then I talk back to him. And let’s not forget about 2-V sitting here.

I’m sure I’m bugging him, jumping up and down, scanning the shed wall. I’m not going to talk about ‘THEM’ today. I’m already annoyed enough.

And not in an I miss Braxton jumping on my head kind of way. Or a Starship Troopers Sugar Watkins “Just trying to kill some bugs, sir,” sort of mood. And dammit, I wish I could stop touching my face. I feel like I’m in 2011’s “Contagion.” Effing Pop Culture!

When I spend every day breathing in toxins, trying to save our home. It’s no wonder I feel so sick. And it gives me plenty of downtime. Not really. But I don’t want to look at the backyard anymore. My B’s territory. No wonder I turn to our two-legged children.

And speaking of territory, my love, you touch me and whisper, “There’s the man I chose
There’s my territory.” Sweetheart.

“You’re a song written by the hands of God.”
Shakira

And you’re not bugging me in the slightest. No baby doll, it’s those “Three Little Birds,” pitch by my doorstep. Ours? Mine because I can’t blame this failure on you. A man provides, protects, and “Pop’s the P—sy.” Seriously, must I be so vulgar… “Rise up this mornin’. Smiled with the risin’ sun.” I haven’t done that in weeks, maybe months, my “Sweet Love.” I mean, not woken up with tears in my eyes. We were making Sweet Love listening to Anita Baker last night. One more reason I wanted to stay, my beloved.

Honestly, I hate this effing wall I’m looking at. And I don’t want to cry, spray more chemicals, or cringe. I just want to close my eyes and find my Braxton. What’s Bugging B, Virgil?

1661 Days Without B III, Day 1102 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 042 ~B Stays Put Virgil~

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I’m a “published” author. I work retail. I wish I were an exterminator. I got a woman who wants me as a husband. We want to be parents… Someday. I’ll always be B and V’s Dad. Mr. Clark said he only needed to stay black and… Anyway, B Stays Put Virgil

Tuesday, August 12, 2025

Journey 042 ~B Stays Put Virgil~

https://a.co/d/dKxDhhB

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And where does that love go? “Everything Everywhere All At Once.” Haven’t seen that movie…

Do I want to be on our couch or love seat right now? We’ll get to that. But how am I? How is my day? Um, anywhere but here sounds nice. I’m not talking about you or where I’m working right now. If anything, it’s in my own skin. I feel like Agent Smith, love.

“I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can’t stand it any longer. It’s the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it.”
Agent Smith, The Matrix

That’s not posh, polite, or politically correct. Anything sounds better than being a MAGA Cracker Hat. Anyway, where would I like to be right now? I’m eyeballing the ground now.

Honestly, the back porch is dirty. The dirt, wood, and Carpenter Ants, where B isn’t.

No, his ashes are on the nightstand. And your husband is trapped in a vet’s office on Sunday, January 31, 2021. This shouldn’t be scary.

Being a man. Being alive. Breathing. Breathe in, Breathe out. If FEAR would follow suit.

No, my love, FEAR stays where it is, like Cancer. It grows, and I don’t have the money to fix it. Hell, I don’t have money for more pesticides, woodworking, or even a power wash.

And I shouldn’t talk about Cancer. Am I that eager to join Braxton and leave his little brother Virgil? And what about you, and those two-legged puppies we consider children?

I have to stay put, but that’s not the truth, is it? A husband, a father, and a man moves. Forgive me for sounding like a Cracker Hat, but I’m starting to see the appeal of homemakers. But I’m failing to protect our home, love.

And I wouldn’t blame you for going all Nelly Furtado “I’m Like A Bird.” But to quote a man in a hat, hopefully not a Cracker Hat. What it’s not like I’m looking up politics:

“You belong here… with me.”
― Christof, The Truman Show

Staying. If only my Old Man had kept his pants on, I could have stayed in Hell where I belong. But now there’s E-Day, “Existence Day.” The second worst day, next to when B died. You and I have spoken about expanding our family. Where do I belong, my love?

Inside you. I can hear the other two-leggeds go, “eww, Dad!” If I could only stay that, my love. But a man must be many things, and scared isn’t one. In your arms. In a box. B Stays Put, Virgil.

1654 Days Without B III, Day 1095 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 035 ~B Leaning On Virgil~

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I shouldn’t have to rely on FEAR to get me out of bed in the morning to look at a wall outside like I’m one of the MAGA Cracker Hats watching the border. But my boys live here. Their potential stepmom wants to visit this winter. “B Leaning On Virgil”

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Journey 035 ~B Leaning On Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? You’re my shoulder to lean on. Or should I sing “look over your shoulders, honey!”

“I’ll Be There.” But I’m not Michael Jackson. Hell! I don’t have Neil Bimbeau’s bank.

Honestly, how much can one make in the “HaremLit” genre? Enough to survive and for the family. And I’m still leaning heavily on Braxton’s book “My Turn To B III.” Well, if I ever published it. I’d cry about it, but that’s one of the reasons I ignore your advice of “Put Your Head on My Shoulder.” Seriously, I would rather cry in your lap as I told Braxton yesterday.

The only way to make my wife wet. Braxton and Virgil don’t need to hear that! But I would cry on Braxton’s shoulder? Excuse me, his Scapulohumeral Joints. And Virgil?

He’s leaning against me, keeping me upright like Pete McVries.

Richard Bachman/Stephen King’s The Long Walk. First, am I back on that again? I saw the second trailer, and I’m not sure I’ll have enough paper for September 12th. Secondly, isn’t Braxton my Pete McVries? Virgil is more my Stebbins. You, my love, are Jan.

Everything you had to offer me. All of yourself. And I just passed by. Don’t I trust you, my love? Don’t I want you? I am as adamant as I am about wanting children. I’m not one to laugh much. Oh, I do! But the live part. More like the creation of life. And love.

Broken heart and all, “I Got Nothing But Love For You Baby.” The Five Heartbeats. You, Virgil, our three two-legged kids. My heart was Braxton.

Carpenter Ants don’t have hearts. I have that in common with my GREAT enemy, hmm.

Speaking of which, I’m leaning on the “Spectracide Terminate Termite & Carpenter Ant Killer AccuShot Sprayer,” and the recent cold snap to protect the house. This is only the second day that I haven’t spotted an ant scurrying out of a hole they made, love.

I’m a man, a husband, a Dad, I shouldn’t be leaning on you. Well, except in the throes of passion. “After all, you’re my Wonderwall.” I can’t even keep the walls of our home up.

“If he can keep his knuckles up all night, imagine what his willy can do.”
― Far and Away 1992

I lean forward in killing BUGS, BUGS! I lean back for your favorite position, love. I lean left against MAGA Cracker Hats. You’re my right hand. B Leaning On Virgil

1647 Days Without B III, Day 1088 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 028 ~High Braxton, Hi Virgil~

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If I get too high, I’ll have no air. If I stay in my blood, ‘sweat’ and tears, I’ll drown. How dare I ask a girl to “Follow Me?” Better to be Uncle Kracker or Uncle/Dirty Harry than a MAGA Cracker Hat. My boys are better men. High Braxton, Hi Virgil.

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Journey 028 ~High Braxton, Hi Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Can I say that without crying? I don’t want to look at myself. The time…

Hell! “Everyday Day Is Exactly The Same,” Sunday, January 31, 2021, to be precise, love. The day my honest to God… (God? Honest? Ha!) Anyway, the day that love died. Honestly, my Braxton hasn’t moved from the table in the vet’s office, the top of my nightstand, or the tippy top of my mind in four years. Again, 1640 days to be accurate, give or take a few hours. And what could I be doing in “These Final Hours,” beloved?

Trying to remember our wedding day? Dangerous words, right? I cried then and now. A trick of Braxton’s Favorite Girl. She told me that if her man wasn’t crying when she walked down the aisle, she was going back up. UP, higher ground, high ground…

What am I angling for? A movie night with you? To be “Drowning in your love.” Damn, Csapunch (Chrissy Allen) and her trip to see the Backstreet Boys. One more reason my eyes are all watery. I’ll burn my eyes out of my skull with all the social media BS.

Distractions. Like all these movies. “UP” shows us a ‘happy’ life in the first few minutes. The fanfare of all these apocalyptic movies, where the good guys always survive, my love. And the high ground… If you didn’t know that was a Star Wars reference, we wouldn’t be married. A few steps below my boys, Braxton and Virgil. Then our two-legged children, don’t talk badly about Star Wars. Why am I up in the clouds?

I think I’m higher than that. And that’s why I’m looking up. Would my head explode in space? How do I explain to you what’s happening to me, my love? My heart is bleeding and broken in this “Mad Season.” This “Cruel Summer,” with my “Summertime Sadness,” baby girl. And fearing I might drown from it all, the flood, I am seeking higher ground. Like “B.o.B.” I’m looking at “Airplanes” for a wish. My B is up there, and so I “get higher, baby, and don’t ever come down!” I’m not on drugs, but I feel like I could die.

How do I “Even” it out like Julien Baker sings about? Sometimes, all I need is “The Air That I Breathe.” High Braxton, Hi Virgil.

“Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe.
And to love you
All I need is the air that I breathe.
Yes, to love you”
― The Hollies

1640 Days Without B III, Day 1081 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 021 ~Homes For B, Virgil~

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I was supposed to buy a big yard for B. I don’t know how Virgil feels about living here. And myself? I’m looking for a box, or to go up to space. This rock’s annoying. “Too many men, too many people, making too many problems.” Yet Homes For B, Virgil

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Journey 021 ~Homes For B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And if you’re a fan of Christmas. Well, that’s one more thing to apologize for.

I swear I almost started our conversation with “I’ll B Home,” which goes all the way back to Tale 066 ~ I’ll B Home Virgil~ on Tuesday, September 5, 2023, to be precise. Everything in its place, My Love. So why am I sitting here this afternoon listening to this monstrosity?

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Effing Christmas In July! Effing Hallmark Channel! Or was it QVC? Whatever! This is what happens when your poor excuse for a husband is sitting on his ass “writing” about my euthanized son. Make it plain. Braxton is gone. And Virgil is sitting on his pillow wanting some attention. “But you don’t look ashamed, and baby, I’m not scared.” I wish I could sing that. I wish it were true.

I wouldn’t be surprised if you were ashamed of me. And honestly, I’m effing terrified.

“FEAR does not exist in this dojo!” Only it’s not that. This is our home. And it’s not you that’s following me. “Follow Me.” Where to? No, it’s my Braxton who followed me for fifteen years. And on Sunday, January 31, 2021, he decided to follow me for four more years and then some.

I’m not effing MAGA! I’m not an effing Cracker Hat! And me as President… Seriously!

My Love, I want to be a good husband, father, if anything, Just A Man. But I have no place.

Where do my furry sons go? My sins. And what about my “sausage.” Sorry, I’m both hungry and horny. It’s been a long day, baby.

I’m trying to make space. I’m trying to “Hold Space” as in “The Book of Clarence.” Am I ever going to get off of this loveseat? For you, my Sputnik, my crazy Satellite Girl, anything.

I’m not one for cutesy nicknames. But that song from Jerry Engler and the Four Ekkos does it for me. Yeah, it was lying with you on a Sunday Morning that led to me ‘filling you up’. Next thing we know, we need a bigger house to make a home for all of Braxton and Virgil’s two-legged siblings. But what else needs a home? Money? Not much of that left. Making room in my heart for more Love. You, our children. I’m big, small, nothing.

Homeless. Homes For B, Virgil.

“Welcome to my world (welcome to my world)
Welcome to my only world (my only world)
It is full of space junk
But your words are coming through
I’m riding on the space junk
And it’s bringing me to you.”

1633 Days Without B III, Day 1074 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 014 ~Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil~

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It’s not some “Summertime Sadness…” (Cherry would appreciate this.) And I would say it’s a “Cruel Summer…” (Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom will visit in the Winter). Anyway, Hell seems to be full-time. But ice water? Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Journey 014 ~Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I tell you that all the time. Braxton. Virgil? Our two-legged kids. But a drink.

I could use a drink. No! “I could really use a wish right now.” There are plenty of “Airplanes” in the night sky. Or there will be with Effing MAGA in charge. But FDT, two times! Besides, I don’t want to talk about the Epstein List. We, being parents, Love.

Today I have you, my beautiful wife. There’s Braxton. There will always be Braxton, as he told me yesterday, “You’ll Be In My Heart” from the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, wherever.

I checked Virgil, who seems to be bug-free. Maybe a few bites, but nothing I can see to pull off. And speaking of pulling things off. Being a good dad to our two-legged kids. Trying.

With all my blessings, I wish I could stop crying.

Oh No, “My Love!” These aren’t happy tears. Not like the Sia song from The Twilight Saga: Eclipse. If anything, the tears help wash off the blood of my firstborn furry son. But I wasn’t crying for Braxton. Not today.

Would that make it better? I had around seventy days just for that after he died. As I worked on Braxton’s novel, I was reminded of the Assistant Store Manager. Eff that guy! Effing meathead. Anyway, he moved me from the Denial stage to Anger. Freaking Vampire, Zombie, Effing TICK! A parasite is what I am. Maybe I’ll catch something and join Little B III.

Enough bites to bleed out. But “I just-just got-to-got-to-got-to” keep the blood pumping, don’t I? I’m saving Virgil, I love you, and a man provides.

“Here Comes Success.” I should toast to it. But then I wouldn’t remember. Forgetfulness and Ignorance. Joy and Pain, as Frankie Beverly sings on. Did you know? I didn’t, Love.

You didn’t know I would be such a crybaby who sweats bullets, bleeds for my boys. And my sexual appetite. I wish I could keep it in my pants. Have you looked in a mirror?

“Because maybe. You’re gonna be the one that saves me. And after all. You’re my wonderwall,” thank you, Ryan Adams. But seriously, “My Love,” “Remember when we first met. And everything was still a bet, in Love’s game. SIGH, I spit out songs. Filling you up, sweating for THEM, crying for B. I’m left. A desert. Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil.

1626 Days Without B III, Day 1067 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will