Tag: Apocalypse

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

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I don’t know the last song B III heard on his last ride. I didn’t sing him to sleep as he lay on the vet’s table. 70 days later, I almost punched out my boss as I listened to B III’s playlist on Spotify. 2021 Wrapped to 2024’s Uh… Dad And B Spotified

Monday, December 9, 2024

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And are you past Tupac yet? Your past before me. But a future without me. But again, I am…

Here, Happy, and saying Hello. Not from a place of Doublethink, a Brave New World. And don’t say It Can’t Happen Here. There’s a reason, Dad, we speak through music. And not books. However, there is a line that comes to mind from time to time. But you would read, and I would sleep. That’s a dream you still have. That you’ll read to my siblings someday. But until then, I’ll keep saying it. I’m right here, Dad, right beside you. My presence is a constant in your life. Though I would prefer it if I were lying under that table as you worked. That’s back to normal. It is…

Not ACCEPTANCE? Again, Dad, we don’t do books. And all those books you’ve read about me, without me, all say the same thing. Kate McGahan…

Leave it to a grieving mother to show my Dad the way. But even before you started writing out my story. Then, we wrote the story together. There was silence, not peace but quiet. My transition. When today shouldn’t exist and tomorrow would never arrive. The time with me and without. Dad, to simply be. It was the second longest time we had ever been apart. But I will never forget when you’d hold me, those shared moments that we both cherish. Always and forever.

Daddy, you would sing to me. Sometimes, you’d change the words, but it was always about us. And that is how I knew how to reach you. There have been other ways. But like a Bumblebee, I’d buzz through your ear. That wasn’t a nickname…

Also, our song didn’t make it to our Spotify list. When you aren’t dreaming about dead men or fathers like you were last night. You’re dreaming about my future stepmom.

Well, no. Not any Yabbos, but there were two women in particular. Cherry and Csapunch.

Dad, I swear you have a type when it comes to women. But when it comes to music, my father. There is so much I want to say to you. And this year, indeed, this very moment in both our lives. Let me say that again. Our lives because I’m still alive. These words. Proof.

The click-clack of my paws on the floor, or your fingers on the keyboard, and communicating with Virgil. Our songs, Daddy. Dad And B Spotified

1408 Days Without B III, Day 849 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

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Livin’ on the Edge, Livin’ on a Prayer, living for the love of you. I feel like I’m toppling over. “NaNoWriMo” ended, and I barely won that. Everything feels like it’s overflowing. And all that edging before breaking on the 1st. “Let’s B Edgy Virgil”

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What else is new? Um, pushing Virgil to the edge of the bed. That’s the big one. Right?

Considering how cold it’s been. Then, one of the neighbor’s kids said they were worried about Virgil. And did I forget to buy another dose of medication? Uh, the money…

That was never a question when Braxton was around. I still remember when Braxton got sick. And the one vet at Banfield I openly “disliked” saved him. And the way the guy looked at me… When I tried to take my own life by starvation and dehydration, my Old Man didn’t want to pay my medical bills either. But Braxton is innocent. So is Virgil.

And while I wouldn’t give Virgil up for anything, the thought of what if I had left him on the other side of that fence? The edge of freedom or what, Inspector Echo? It’s a fear that haunts me now.

When Virgil has tried to cuddle these past few mornings, I’ve pushed him away. Really! I’ve gone so far as to move a pillow between him and me as I read or waste time, Inspector.

Virgil hasn’t fallen. And the drop wouldn’t hurt him. Contrary to popular belief. Virgil runs around here. He jumps up and down. V can climb stairs. He barks, cries, dreams…

Probably about someone much better than me. I know. I wish I had fallen into a grave when my feet hit the floor. Didn’t I talk about having a dream about dead men last week? Maybe. All I know is today, I woke up to the sound of Johnny Cash’s Ain’t No Grave. My Braxton.

What you needed to hear…

“Do you wish to be the son who gives his father what he asks for or what he needs?” Legion

When did I get all religious? It’s that time of the year. Or am I upset that some blonde temptress broke me the day after No Nut November? Inspector, I’ve gone from nurses to dancers and gymnasts. I gave $10.00 to a “secretary” on Onlyfans. And now nuns and angels. Talk about being on the edge. Or flashing my “package,” and why. The edge, huh.

Willy’s Wanton Writings And Whacking

Madness. I’m on the edge of finishing “my” novel. I give myself far too much credit with NaNoWriMo being over. But I won for the first time in years. I’m on the edge of finishing another book. I’m upset that I’ve broken my Christmas tradition. You see today’s date, Echo. I’m existing on the edge. Still, Let’s B Edgy Virgil.

1403 Days Without B III, Day 844 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 154 ~B The Soft Things~

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I’ve been sleeping hard the last few days. No, I haven’t. Eww! Where’s V? On his pillow someplace. He needs a new one. Walmart ain’t exactly known for quality. And I was busy making the house a soft place for B’s aunt to land. B The Soft Things.

Monday, December 2, 2024

Meditation 154 ~B The Soft Things~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… right there beside you, Always. Have faith. It’s not any of the strange drinks lifting your arms up. Right?

But it might take a while. Don’t think about “THAT DAY.” But the many days that there were, you would come back to me, angry, sad, confused, and all the above, and you would wrap an arm around me and just go to sleep. You remember the days you would return, and I would jump into your arms. Even on your worst days, your arms would beat sitting on the hardwood floor. And you know how I felt about sitting anywhere that didn’t have a cushion for my tail. Speaking of tales, I was there with you and my aunt on Saturday. Well, to you, she’s my aunt. But to me, she’s The Most Beautiful Girl in the World, Daddy.

Always and forever, she’s soft.

And I don’t mean to say she’s not tough. Hardcore. A Survivor. It’s easier to hear from a pair of those ear thingies you wear than the rough voice of a dead man. So what does that mean for me now that you’re listening, Daddy? You still have some of my fur. My comfy spots…

I never yielded! And as you can see, I am not dead!
T’Challa, Black Panther

Yes, Dad, we talked about your dream here in this place. The Void? The Endless Dark? A place where there is no darkness? The Rainbow Bridge? If anything, Dad, it doesn’t matter if I’m wide awake or dead asleep… I’m sorry, bad joke. I’m happy being comfortable. And where am I most comfortable? Anywhere with you. Even Virgil sees that. He feels that you know. Between you and my aunt…

When Virgil sat there as you and she watched movies, you couldn’t push Virgil away.

I’m making an observation. You have to appreciate the soft things. Look at me, Daddy.

I’m as soft as the silence on a really good day. The song that plays that reminds you of me. The sheets on the bed that you wrap yourself in when you dread tomorrow, today. The world is a hard enough place. And when you rescued Virgil, you took responsibility. What, to put a soft pillow under his tail? Amongst other things. My father’s better.

Daddy, I know you are. Iron Will but soft enough to feel my love. And to know there’s a beautiful and soft place for Virgil. Somewhere. B The Soft Things

1401 Days Without B III, Day 842 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

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When my other boy wakes up… V? He must ask himself, what fresh Hell is this? I’m much the same when I head out to the Day Job… When I’m out anywhere. I’m afraid of the skin I’m in, the steps I take, and a sigh while breathing. Breathe Virgil. Don’t B

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… By being me? Yes, we can talk about what time it is. 6:21 PM, WTF! But to live…

Is that what I’m calling the next five hours? How about the six when I was at the Day Job? We can even go back, checks notes 1396 days. You know AB, as in After Braxton. Two things. One, I didn’t want to live before I even met Braxton. Two, I shouldn’t be taking any notes. The way I’ve been writing this month. But we’ll get to that Inspector Echo.

Why? Because this body I wield doesn’t know how to stop breathing. That’s the sin I’ve been recovering from. I’ve been brushing up on the STATE RELIGION coming next year. However, Dear Inspector Echo, Sia said it best. And no, Not Succubus Lord’s Madam Sia…

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

For the wages of sin is death? Don’t I wish.

The things I contemplate while tears blur my vision at the Day Job. Have I truly mourned for my firstborn son today? If I did, it was more a result of exhaustion than genuine grief. Despite the poignant words I read this morning. What’s one more book on pet loss…

Anyway, at the Day Job, I started thinking about three things. All about FEAR, Inspector. The first was the simple fact that I hate the skin I’m in. And not because MAGA says I should. The second was that I didn’t want to breathe. Fearing your own next breath… No one knows what it’s like. This leads to number three: I have to show why I’m not worthy of it, which leads to my writing.

Inspector, I wrote two whole novels about the loss of my son. But what did I write about last night? I stole an SFM Anime about a girl and three soldiers. Then I took a scene from Bible Black New Testament, Episode 4 Recollection. Add to that a mass… whatever.

But I don’t dare ask where everyone is going. Bingo? No! I breathe, and thus, I’m guilty, or so I’ve been told. But I don’t believe in God. I believe “There is another world. There is a better world. Well, there must be.” Because my son is there and I’m not worthy of it, Echo.

Because I am consumed by fear. And with what this world is… Why not write about worse places and evil men? Breathe Virgil. Don’t B.

1396 Days Without B III, Day 837 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

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Can turkeys fly? I looked up the answer today. No wonder America has issues. I’ve dreamed my son was a bird here or there, a pigeon or an albatross. I had to look that up, too. As I’m not watching the news or how to cook turkey. Turkey Day, B Willing

Monday, November 25, 2024

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Are you beginning to believe? What, in The Matrix? A world without me in it. I’m right here, Dad.

And for once, I’m not begging you for food, though I ask that you share it with my little brother. Wow, I accepted Virgil as a family member before you? My brother and your son.

You’re wondering… What’s with all the movies, right? I’ve been sitting there right next to you. When you’re watching them all, writing, and you can’t kick me out anymore when you’re looking at women… I’m kidding about that last one. You would say, “Not today.”

That was whenever my Aunt came around, and I wanted to play with my toys. Let the good times roll. But you’ve been having Hard Times. But this week, Thursday. For real. It is my favorite day after my birthday and your E-Day. Of course.

As if you needed to be reminded of the day. Every day for me is this question. “When’s Dad coming home? We both smile at that but for different reasons. But this is my time now, so listen to me. When I asked when you were coming home, it was more than the place that took you away from me from time to time. It’s when I thought about when you’d smile. Which was rare.

Oh, and now you’re crying, and that will make me cry. Keep listening to me. Coming home is when you hold me in your arms, and there was nothing but us. It was that look you would give me when you knew you had nothing to fear because I was there. You’re not a chicken.

You aren’t a pigeon. Neither are you a seagull. With the election, you’re not an eagle. And no, you’re definitely not a turkey. I’d call you my superhero, my master, a king, maybe a titan, or even a god. Father is God in the eyes of a child. But I know who you are. Dad.

You’re my Dad. And my Dad is stronger than anything and everything. “Behold Thy Creation.” Seriously, Dad, you don’t believe I’m speaking. You had to look that quote up. It’s from 2009’s Creation. Coincidence? I was four that year, and Virgil is four. And what am I, Dad? “I’m a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.” No. I’m the wind, breath, yours. Today, always. Turkey Day, B Willing

1394 Days Without B III, Day 835 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

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WARNING: 18+ For elements of the novel I’m writing. Or am I being lazy for writing 405 words instead of (checks notes) 725? I’m here; I’m writing. I need some sleep, as the song goes. I need more Z’s. More like A, B, C, D, etc. “Need More B’s Virgil”

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And I’m probably gon’ do some mo’, you shouldn’t hold that against me though. Meaning? I’m being lazy.

Yesterday was humiliating… Witches, man. Now, swap the B with a W. Some girls, Inspector.

And I’m worried I didn’t do good work at the Day Job. And what about my chosen vocation? Writing, Inspector Echo? I’m ignoring my editing like I once ignored Braxton. And Virgil? He’s okay… I’m writing. Or so I hope.

Chapter Thirteen: Forgetting The Terms And Conditions
Sofía confronts William, The Director, about working in Richard Thornfield’s sex trafficking. William promises protection while enjoying benefits.

  1. From William’s POV. Begin in William’s house. Sofía rages at William about what she went through at the hotel with Richard Thornfield and others.
  2. William’s other house guest explains that William is only another victim, as they all are. But William can warn Sofía of Richard Thornfield’s plans.
  3. Sofía angrily decides to give herself to William. William warns Sofía that touching isn’t allowed. Sofía then touches the other woman as William watches.
  4. The woman then quietly departs as William and Sofía enjoy each other as they watch one another bring themselves to orgasm. Sofía then leaves.
  5. William reports to Richard Thornfield, who then praises him on his work, Sofía. But demands that William direct a ruthless hardcore scene for Sofía.
  6. William then visits Sofía, telling her of the scene but not revealing his total involvement in its creation. Sofía asks, can William do anything?
  7. Cherry shows up to Sofía and threatens William. Cherry says she’ll reveal everything to Sofía if William refuses her. Sofía watches William and Cherry.
  8. William returns to his house and again calls for company from two girls. Afterward, he lies in bed contemplating the price of Sofía’s freedom.
  9. William discusses with Richard Thornfield the price of Sofía. And offers to continue his work. Richard Thornfield scoffs at the idea. William threatens him.
  10. Sofía begins her scene with several gentlemen, but she now recognizes William there. Despite the rough sex, she is comforted by his presence watching.
  11. William apologizes to Sofía as he sits beside the bed. Cherry comes in trying to concoct her plan to make Sofía undesirable to Richard.
  12. Sofía says that she can’t take more scenes like the one she endured. William decides he must use his funds in more criminal ways.

Need More B’s Virgil

1389 Days Without B III, Day 830 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

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“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Or my B III that weighs less than ten pounds, sitting on my head every morning. My lap or chest while reading. Have a heart for the little guy. What? B Z’s No Longer

Monday, November 18, 2024

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Still don’t believe me? Free Up Your Mind… That’s what you’re doing right now. Or listening to Pokémon’s Playlist.

Who needs a Pokémon when you had me? Do you remember when you told me that? Pokémon: The First Movie came out, well… way before my time. “Life” before existence.

Daddy, you would have been fourteen, way back then. But I remember when you would sing all the Pokémon songs to me. The joy in your voice and the love in your eyes are memories I cherish. The theme song, Brother My Brother, Together Forever, even the Jigglypuff song when you were lulling me off to sleep rubbing my belly.

There was also “The Time Has Come…” But that was so far away. Sometimes, you didn’t talk. And sometimes I didn’t listen. But just like today isn’t today, Saturday, November 9, 2024, and Monday, November 18, 2004. We’re here, Dad, you and me together. I still sound like that book.

Speaking of books, what are you reading next? I’m more of a what’s in the bag and what’s in the box. It’s my birthday type of guy. But yesterday… was it just yesterday we talked about books? But, “This Christmas will be a very special Christmas.” “In my mind.” I am my father’s son, after all. Speaking through the music. A beast with a beat.

Anyway, back to books. You’ve been thinking about what to read next. And it won’t be the usual Christmas stuff you got REALLY quiet for. Tradition… Everything tells you to prepare for what’s to come in a 1984 Brave New World, The Handmaid’s Tale, It Can’t Happen Here sort of way. You and I always expected zombies to rise. Unfortunately,

It’s not the moans of the undead. Oh me? I’m not dead. You feel that beat within your chest right now. You hear that voice that isn’t entirely yours. You changed titles; how many times now? What about those little cries, the pitter-patter of feet, and the sigh of contentment?

But why now? I’m not bugging you, am I? And neither is Virgil’s breathing, Daddy.

Breathe in and breathe out. If Virgil can do it, you can too. He is there to remind you, Dad. And maybe it’s your need for balance. You say I left silence. And now the world is making too much noise. But remember, you’re not alone. You need to hear that somebody loves you. Like the force? I love you, always. B Z’s No Longer.

1387 Days Without B III, Day 828 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

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I did a few days in a detention center once. Don’t threaten people in print. OH! I’ve said things to girls… Uh, I know a few angry fathers. OH! Stay away from specific foreign contacts… OH! Why aren’t I the next President? “Virgil, B Not Embarrassed”

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Well, no, Inspector Echo, no, I have not. I identify as the billionaire white guy who became president.

Last night, I stood in the kitchen thinking of this house mess. As I thought of my son, who I took from this world. The boy that I treat with such… I don’t know what, Inspector. But it’s not that I’m playing the role of a Dad again. Didn’t I adopt Virgil? Expectations… Responsibilities… Sacrifices.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would fall short in NaNoWriMo. I’ve burned through the last of my cushion, leaving me with around 21,000 words. When did M Anime share her nightmare with me again? And when I wasn’t writing, I was preoccupied with building a harem. One Piece’s Nami, ‘Landlady,’ a few models and cosplayers. It’s embarrassing, Inspector, to admit these personal failures.

Not when the US elected Donald J Trump as President!

“By all that you hold dear on this good Earth. I bid you stand, Men of the West!!!” ― Aragon

This is not what Aragon meant. I’ve been standing this week, Inspector. Just being STUPID! A failure to this country. You know I have a guilt complex. Talk about representation…

But again, I was in the shower, and I was thinking about all the horrible things I say about women. But have I ever been found guilty of “SA?” Nope! But Trump can be president.

It’s that time of the year again when the Day Job hires certain types of employees. And I may not like it. But I don’t call people names. I don’t talk about camps. I don’t write laws to restrict their rights. Again, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist, dear Inspector.

However, America is not. Hey, I’m just a black man.

And I won’t say I’m an especially good one. I’m the guy who thought Whitney Wright’s “Prom Night” was a bit much. I know more models and European agents than I care to admit. And? B III rests in a box. Instead of feeling the guilt and shame of criminality,

Inspector Echo, I see the criminal who has risen from the ash. I watch the darkness descend upon this country and scream out. What’s My Crime? Any embarrassment? Some shame?

There are no such things if I were to run for office. But I respect women too much. I don’t demonize the poor. I don’t care who people marry. OUR kids should be educated, Echo.

Only This Is America. Eff TRUMP! Virgil, B Not Embarrassed

1382 Days Without B III, Day 823 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

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If I had 12 Apostles, I’d have 6 men, 7 women, and a dog. In my writing, I have 2 men, 4 women, and my dog… My FIRSTBORN. This is my B. I hope that I’m hearing him. “God” knows I don’t want to hear from anyone else. But my son Braxton… “A, B, C, Me.”

Monday, November 11, 2024

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… You don’t believe me? When did you last think about Theresa Walker’s song from Dead Air? Zombies? Music? Movies?

And then there’s “Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife.” Don’t go thanking him just yet, Dad. Though there’s a reason you picked up that book. It’s not like you ever asked me about book choices. Like ever…

There were the books you would read to me. And then the ones when I assumed you were letting me sleep. How’s that been going for you? Like I didn’t know Dad with my spot. Virgil sleeps in the center at the foot of the bed. “Left side, strong side.” That’s my spot. Movie reference? I am my father’s son. I miss our movie nights with you and my aunt.

Daddy, we should have more, not just on… you know.

And that’s why I’m here today. Time? It’s overrated. And it’s not that I’m here now. I’m always here. Or did I really smell that bad? Virgil hasn’t thought of touching my bed. He’s a good boy. Can I call someone else a good boy? There’s a lot to unpack there, but again, there’s you. My Dad, my best friend, my brother. Don’t go crying again, Dad. I didn’t cry.

At what you thought of as the end, I didn’t cry. Okay, I gave you a look. You needed me.

And today, you need me. Because this has been the first time ever something’s compared.

Sunday, January 31, 2021. And now, on Wednesday, November 6, 2024. What about E-Day, Dad? Again, there’s so much there.

But, like always, you’ve had some time to reflect. So now let’s talk on Friday, November 8, 2024. Why am I here? Comedy comes in 3’s, right? But for real, Dad, I love you. Always.

That is number one. I love you, and you love me; nothing will ever change that. We’ve stood together through some rough times, remember. COVID, Day Job, my grandpa. Today and the next four years, well… I saw you through one minor apocalyptic event… I will stand with you through this, Dad, no matter what. Daddy, I’m here, always. Reminding you, number three, there is so much good in you. Forget the world. Father? Daddy?

Please let me see that good in you. ALWAYS AND FOREVER. A, B, C, Me

“Look! You’ve pushed me this far; now I’m pushing you the rest of the way! You know, back there in the woods, even when things looked really bad, I still believed we’d make it because you were too stubborn to quit! I’m not gonna make you quit. Not now. Not when we’re this close. Now, try again!” ― Homeward Bound.

1380 Days Without B III, Day 821 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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Remember, Remember the 5th of November. I wish I could forget it. Hell! I don’t know what’s happening now. I’m avoiding X/Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere else. Reading about failing my son beats reading about failing my country. “Son Of A B.”

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What the Eff! Eff, Eff, Eff! “Eff you, eff you and eff you! Who’s next?” (Coming to America)

This Is America! And I am ashamed to call myself an American. That is if everything I have been seeing is right. Inspector Echo… I went to bed last night saying, “I don’t feel so good.” And this morning… Well, there have been tears. And that’s my crime for today.

Not one of them has been for my son Braxton. M Anime and Cherry texted and asked how I was feeling. I dared to say that this is reminiscent of my son’s passing. Can’t be

When I looked into Braxton’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I tried. I’ve done everything I can, but I can’t save you. Please forgive me!” Yesterday, I did my best, Inspector Echo. You know me. I’m an effing misanthrope! But I voted for the people who I believed would bring positive change. And now, I’m left wondering what will become of them and me, Inspector?

As I said, I did my best. But winners go home and eff the prom queen! Yasmina Khan, Jessie Rasberry, the Midnight Sleazy Train series and even Cherry’s melons… No prom queens. Though if I know MAGA and the dictator… excuse me, next president’s taste…

Inspector, that’s one more way I know this isn’t good. I had no desire when B was gone, and now? I feel sick to my stomach. I want to silence everything. And what I’m seeing…

SUCKS!!! Everything sucks! Does that include the book I’m reading? Like I said, Inspector, since I haven’t been “getting off…” No Nut November, Election News, and the nothingness I feel.

Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife. I was lost before I finally got it up to talk to you, Inspector. Any comfort?

Honestly, I don’t know. It’s kinda preachy. Kate McGahan’s dog, Jack, is preaching to her and all of us. But I can see Braxton saying some of this stuff as well. I am not a prophet or philosopher. Braxton is not the “Son of a Preacher Man.” But Braxton is trying… Faith, hope, and love

Inspector. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse partner. And we are on the verge.

Talk about “I saw the sign.” Or coincidence… It’s was the fifth of November. I’ve watched V for Vendetta reactions with Virgil/V. Waiting for what now. Son Of A B

1375 Days Without B III, Day 816 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will