Tag: B III

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

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I’ve sat in bed more times than I can count, wishing for the end. I tell myself the world will end in five minutes, and nothing else will matter. But B died, I go broke, and in my head are four book ideas. There’s no time. “There’ll B Time, Dad”

Monday, April 28, 2025

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “And it’s not too late. It’s Never Too Late.” To what, hear the truth. Neither of us wants that.

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.

Say the thing you’re afraid to say. I can help you. Say it out loud, no matter what it is, no matter how bad. I promise, I will help”
― The Last of Us

We’re not Republicans. We’re not MAGA, my father. You’re not screaming, “I don’t want reality.” Dad, you’re brave enough to face reality, risk, and the real. And what is that?

Well, if you’re going to be stuck in the past. Listen to me, Dad. Why can’t we be stuck together in those car rides listening to ROCK music? However, I would prefer you weren’t listening to this particular song from Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late.” Seriously, Daddy, I was so young; one or two when that came out. I hated car rides, not music.

Speaking of which, I remember when you came back, not from the bad place but somewhere you would write without me. I want to see you like that again, Daddy.

Because there will always be time to be sad, scared, to sing of “The Cursed Earth.” But to remember my little brother Virgil. Not your other son, but your son. When you and he walked along the same path we once did, before I got old, fat, and sassy. How I miss those fried stick thingies you would buy. Those days, my grandma would bring a lot of food. Or when you’d say, “Well, it’s E-Day.” And you’d be sad, but lobster and steak, Daddy. Honestly, why do you think I love my favorite girl so much? Yes, she had big, soft yabbos she’d let me lie on, but she also shared plenty of good things. Like my Dad being…

Happy? Now, that wasn’t you.

But there’s time, Dad. And that’s what has been bothering you for months. There is no time to make money. The Day Job, writing, and anything else you could imagine.

Honestly, you’ve been reliving the moment you would never see me again. B free indeed. But isn’t it time to be free of all that frightens you, of the very concept of fear, the fiend?

Because that is not my father in the mirror, but the man before my eyes, who lives by three words when it comes to me, Whatever It Takes. You will see me again, Daddy. Believe.

Someday, I’ll be the book on the shelf, the blush on a lover’s cheeks. A two-legged baby, perhaps. Because there’s time. There’ll B Time, Dad

“Funny how you can live a whole life waiting and not know it.”
From ― Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“If you weep not now, when will you ever weep?
From ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1548 Days Without B III, Day 989 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 298 ~Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot~

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Will I ever write my autobiography? I wrote two books about my son. Um… I’m too busy complaining about the Day Job. I have all the time in the world to write, edit, and PUBLISH. But I have to live on; I have to survive. Because Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot.

Friday, April 25, 2025

Meditation 298 ~Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Hell! I’m surprised I was even able to read this morning. My eyes are so heavy.

Exhaustion, Addiction, or Allergies? At least I’m not crying over my “Lost Boy.” My B.

Oh no, that would make too much sense. Or no sense at all, seeing B’s been gone four long years. I need only invoke Sunday, January 31, 2021. And anything I’m going through becomes nothing. I watched my son, my Braxton, die, and… Well, the tears are trying to eke out. I need them because I have so much reading to do today. Try Happiness.

Honestly, my lady, you know that word does not exist here. However, I did consider telling you how Virgil arrived. That was Saturday, August 13, 2022. Joyful tears, Sophia? I’m sweating bullets, actually. But I thought I heard Braxton’s voice. “How To Save A Life?”

As this week draws to a close, I’m afraid all I know how to do is make better writers cash. The story of my life is nothing compared to the B-plots from the likes of Dirk Knight and Logan Jacobs. This is the last day for triple Kindle Points, so I NEED more books. SIGH

With what money? If I’m lucky, my B-Plot of a Day Job has me in once a week. I’m not. So, as for all my paid time off… The following two weeks will be hard. And the following two are wasted. So much for going to see Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. I have to stop calling M Anime that, as if she would even have me. Comparing me to Xu…

Oh, right, I’m supposed to be writing a novel about her nightmare with General Xu. Writing isn’t paying the bills. Sophia, if I finish the story, there’s… Too Much Sauce. However, analyzing the book I’m writing, called “Cries Come Women, Come Country,” isn’t helping either. It takes my mind off missing my son, my money, and any mistakes I make.

Like explaining this to M Anime. AHEM! In her nightmare/short story, I noticed the level of intimacy between her and General Xu. She was first taken in darkness, then held down, chained up, held softly, and then she clung to him. With acceptance, she climaxed.

I can worry about what she thinks instead of the main story. Braxton, Virgil, and I. Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot

1545 Days Without B III, Day 986 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 297 ~Braxton Spells Much Virgil~

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How do you spell love? God is… Dog is love. To call B a proper gentleman around his favorite girl is to make myself Casanova with M Anime. But my boy made it to Heaven. And I just want to go to bed. I haven’t left. Doomed? Braxton Spells Much Virgil.

Thursday, April 24, 2025

Meditation 297 ~Braxton Spells Much Virgil~

1544 Days Without B III, Day 985 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? “Love and Happiness.” If it wasn’t for love, we wouldn’t be talking today. And happiness?

Braxton, I love you like pancakes. But I’m not happy. Your Dad’s never been happy.

That’s a big claim. But I wasn’t happy at twenty when we first met. And in 2021, I was even more “Broken” with your loss. Only if you want to know something you and your brother have in common besides having four legs. I didn’t know what I felt meeting.

Why am I not talking to Virgil today? We’ve been outside, and he’s had breakfast. But today, I slept a lot later than usual. It’s 9:20 AM. And even that thought makes me cry. Or it’s allergies, AGAIN. How about a lack of sleep? I spoke to you and Virgil’s future stepmom last night and this morning. I gotta stop calling M Anime that. Seriously.

Braxton, how do you spell love? It’s like I’m the Tower of Babel, and you and your brother, your favorite girl, M Anime, Cherry, my Olds, and even myself are the builders, trying to get me to Heaven. But all the noise from everyone. How we speak in different ways, B.

You and Virgil speak of love, but yours is very faint. Being dead and all. I know that’s not funny, Braxton. Your brother tells a different version of love. I’ve got no word for it.

Your favorite girl is a glimmer of joy. When Cherry isn’t saying, “Look at me, look at me,” I’m drooling over her Yabbos. Uh, eww.

When I think of my Olds, your grandparents, you know what I hear? Worthless, waste, and “what you gonna do with your life?” Boys Just Want To Have Fun, remember.

Honestly, I don’t want to look at the “Man in the Mirror.” “It’s no surprise to me. I am my own worst enemy.” Hell! Even now. I’m still on my back, yapping away with you.

Those were the days. And they beat, slithering on my belly, dreaming up scenarios between Joel, Ellie, Dina, and Abby. I got around to watching The Last of Us. And if it wasn’t them or Cherry, then the things I said to M Anime. I’m no gentleman. You’re not, either.

But I raised you to be a better man than me. That B is my love. Braxton Spells Much Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

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I didn’t plan on being a Dad. And I can’t count on being a husband. Last I saw, I was $3,000 in the hole. Showing a bunch of anime holes or writing about lady parts equals a whole lot of nothing. My boys need to eat. “Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But no, I haven’t knocked up Braxton and Virgil’s future stepmom. I should stop calling “M Anime” that.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson from The Gargoyle

I didn’t plan on having a son. I didn’t plan on my Braxton. I didn’t plan on being a Dad. But one night, my father walks in with this little ball of fluff. And though I had begged for a dog for years… There’s this tiny thing being flopped into my sister’s hands. My Neo.

That’s what I called him anyway. My Ma quickly changed it to Braxton. But to me, he would always be “The ONE.” And because my sister knew how to make a life. And “I am an equal opportunity misanthrope.” “Here I Am”: Father, Friend, and Fiend. Because I never planned on killing him. But I survived. I learned. And I’ve never forgiven myself, either. I dream, plan, and do nothing.

So that’s why I’m here Monday, April 21, 2025, financially effed. I should have followed.

Who, Braxton? “Too Little Too Late,” as the Barenaked Ladies sing. We’ll get to that. Today, there’s Virgil. 984 days ago, he wasn’t here. Hell! Braxton was very much alive on Tuesday, October 20, 2020, when Virgil was born. Three months later, my Braxton passed.

How much did it cost for tests and trying to keep him alive? “It Doesn’t Matter.” But when was the last check I got over one hundred dollars? And now Virgil’s vet visit, security, and the fact we need to eat… I didn’t plan on seeing forty or on trying to be Virgil’s hero. SIGH

He needs a father. I need to be a man.

Please! I don’t know the first thing about being a man. I’ve got man parts. And what was I doing with that hardware before coming here and talking to you, E? Trying not to come.

Talk about blasphemy because I was the same way on Easter Sunday. Whether it was M Anime’s nightmare that I’m writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” There are thoughts of Cherry’s huge vanilla Yabbos. Then such and such posted Megumi and Ayami from “Ecchi na Onee-Chan ni Shiboraretai,” so I had to cut up their episodes. But this led me to two more sisters I was moaning about in the bathroom. Filming OnlyFans? Nope. “Don’t know why I didn’t come.” “Mama told me not to come.” Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.

1543 Days Without B III, Day 984 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

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Manners! Language! You talk too much! Should I say more about my furry kid? Four years gone. Or what about the walk with his little brother on a rainy morning? Money woes. Manuscripts that will never be published. Manhood. My Evils. “No B In Sharing”

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to SHARE my life with you. Or give it. Oh, to be so noble.

Missing my Braxton, I could be a modern-day samurai. Committing Seppuku? No. That would only dishonor my firstborn son, you, my love, and our family. What? You didn’t think I only studied Japanese Adult Anime. Would you instead have me share more about B III?

Money has also become a concern. I was talking to my Ma the other day and wanted to share with her that I am afraid. A man provides for his family. Husband and father. “What Kind of Man Would I Be,” to admit that I’m afraid I can’t give you and our kids everything you want and need. But I wouldn’t be a good one. “What Makes a Good Man?”

Manuscripts full of bad ones. I was reading “My Writing.”

Yesterday, I kept getting the same response from “the critics.” I share far too much.

Truthful, yes, but too much. There’s “No Hope Left.” Apparently, I can’t say such things. I didn’t tell Braxton that as I watched him die. I don’t tell Virgil that when we walk every day. He needs to believe in a better world. A better me. What about myself, love?

Looking at myself in the mirror, I inevitably say, “I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend.” But what’s the truth? I want to tell the worst things, my Dirty Little Secret.

Braxton was euthanized Sunday, January 31, 2021, because I failed him. I don’t know how to reach Virgil. And I wish I was never born.

Because I am afraid. “It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” So why not share my sins with you? The things I have never done. Is it effed up that I think about this, like sharing food with my boys? Braxton eating hot dogs, and Virgil has pizza bites. You love?

I get off on the idea of watching you with someone being “ravished.” Cuckoldry vs Netorare (NTR). There’s a book in the closet, “Ravishment: The Dark Side of Erotic Fantasy” by Desmond Ravenstone. I’ve been excited by nonfiction violation stories. Exhibitionism is something I’d explore with you. My Sadism. Fear brings out my depravity. I share this with you because telling myself, my boys, I’ve failed. No B In Sharing.

1542 Days Without B III, Day 983 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

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Peace be unto you. Unto you be peace. I miss sitting with my son and watching a movie. The Book of Clarence? Braxton’s favorite girl, and I watched that. But can I still afford streaming memberships? Such despair at being broke. “To B At Peace.”

Monday, April 21, 2025

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “Can you feel that? Ah, sh*t. Ooh, wah-ah-ah-ah!” I’ll leave the singing to you, my father. I still bark.

But not now. You used to say that my barking said more than most humans. And at least when I barked, I was helping you out. We agree that most humans make too much noise. There are exceptions to that. My favorite girl, the future stepmom I never met. Cherry.

And what about my little brother, Virgil? I wish you so many things, my father. Somehow, someway, someday, today, I want you to be at peace. I wish you peace. Peace be unto you, my father. I know I’m getting a bit preachy. A little biblical… Like father, like son. But neither of us would be found in a church. Yesterday was Easter. So, dinner…

You know me. Food always made me feel better. Until…

Um that’s not what I came to talk to you about now. My resting in peace and all. No dad.

How can I sleep when I can feel it all the way from here? The Rainbow Bridge? Elysium or whatever. That big bed in the middle of our sunny backyard with food on every side.

Your depression and the danger you wake up to when you head to that bad place. You said that’s how you got me those fried golden sticks. But now what you feel the most is DESPAIR. What’s one more human word? You would cuddle me and tell me so many.

But peace? Even if I don’t understand it, I have seen it, my father, last night as Virgil cuddled you.

And all those nights we would spend with my favorite girl watching the glowing box.

There were the days after you came from the bad place and fell asleep. And as you closed your eyes you’d watch me sitting at the corner of the bed. You’d come to no harm.

However, when it was your turn, I’d sleep on your heart as you read books. And there were all the times I would lay on my pillow at your feet, and you’d write your stories.

There were days you would breathe afterward as if the greatest task ever was done. Sometimes, you’d kick me out to do “whatever,” watching certain things. You’d be finished, clear. Always unto you be peace, Dad. To B At Peace

“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“Because your question searches for deep meaning,
I shall explain in simple words”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1541 Days Without B III, Day 982 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 291 ~Creating The B-Plot Virgil~

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Well, if it’s any consolation, this horrible week will be over when I reread this. Didn’t I want more hours? It’s why I’m writing this on a Sunday and not a Friday. I’ve written of worse weeks. And even worse stories. Creating The B-Plot Virgil.

Friday, April 18, 2025

Meditation 291 ~Creating The B-Plot Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Because I won’t be giving you a book review today. Have I finished “Backyard Dungeon 15”

Considering today is Sunday, April 13, 2025. And speaking of stories, doesn’t The Last of Us Season 2 begin tonight? My son, Braxton, was so creative. When Sundays rolled around, and Daddy communed with the dead… The Walking Dead, that is. He would come up with ways to entertain himself. That is if he didn’t want to crawl beside me and be quiet for an hour or thereabouts. Hell! B was considerate enough to die in the off-season. That’s dark…

But by now, Lady Sophia, you know, that’s how I like my stories. Happy Endings… Whatever! Virgil would have something to say about that. This being his forever home. Ha!

I’m sure “The Art of Racing in the Rain” is better. I haven’t read it.

And what about my books? We’ll get to that. Because you don’t know how badly I wish I could say this week is “Unwritten.” However, regarding the Day Job, “Every Day Is Exactly the Same.” This wouldn’t be so bad if I were “just a regular everyday normal mothereffer.” But no. I’m sure this week has expanded on Humiliations Galore.

Excuses not to go in; they are coming up empty. I have lots to explain, well as the song goes:

“‘Cause I’m a loser
And sooner or later, you know I’ll be dead.”
3 Doors Down

Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
Loser, Beck

Explanations for this. Not movies, music, or manuscripts. I don’t blame it on missing my Braxton. Or missing the spark that made me a great father… Seriously, I’m failing Virgil.

Editing my novels? It’s like a B-plot to a movie.

Mind you, Lady Sophia. A lousy movie, as sleep always comes first. Stealing dreaming time.

Bad dreams, as is the case with M Anime. Earlier, “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” What did you get when you take a lovely lady’s military nightmare and the anime series Kuroinu? “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” An African-American Writer. I wish.

Sophia, only days before, I was working on “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” Ch. 19. Honestly, I told M Anime I already had ideas for a sequel. As horrible as I am, I’m not Donald Trump. FDT! I have more than “concepts of a plan.” Ripping off Discipline: The Hentai Academy. “The Eve of a Cherry”? What happened with that book? Existence… Or I keep trying. Creating The B-Plot Virgil.

1538 Days Without B III, Day 979 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 290 ~Renewing Braxton’s Membership Virgil~

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May God be with you. May God’s love be with you, always. Godspeed. Things I didn’t say to B as he lay dying. May God be with you all if I ever write a book that sells. No way! And as far as breeding two-leggeds? “Renewing Braxton’s Membership Virgil”

Thursday, April 17, 2025

Meditation 290 ~Renewing Braxton’s Membership Virgil~

1537 Days Without B III, Day 978 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? By the time you’re reading this, your Daddy’s half-dead. But today… Saturday, April 12, 2025.

You won’t like me saying this, Braxton. I’ll let Thandiwe Newton, AKA Dame Vaako, say…

I wouldn’t be surprised if someone promoted him soon… to full dead.
― Dame Vaako

Yes, your Dad is “Feeling super, super (super!) suicid…” But that’s not your fault, Braxton. I wake up “Every Morning” asking, “Why (why?), why (why?) Tell ’em that it’s Human Nature.” Or at least for humans. And I don’t know how to bring myself back to life. Music, Movies, a Manuscript. If you asked me right now to describe life, I would say Cast Away.

I’m Chuck Noland. Your little brother Virgil Vivi is the raft. Honestly, Braxton, it’s why I’m at the Dining Room Table wearing pants despite “Chloe | Kuroinu.” But anyway, B. You’re Wilson out there floating along, and for once, I ain’t crying… I think… Allergies.

So why aren’t I crying? I saw something beautiful on Facebook! OMG! WTF! Right, B?

Anyway, I looked it up, and it’s from a book-turned-movie, “The Art of Racing in the Rain.” If only I weren’t reading Backyard Dungeon 15 this week. Braxton, I was listening to this dog Enzo talk about how if he did return to the land of the living Braxton, he would return as a man.

Do you remember when I was reading all those books about reincarnation? And I’ve been saying for about two and a half years that V isn’t you? I knew I effed up looking for you.

Do you, my son, have a greater destiny? I’ve been joking a lot about M Anime being your stepmom. Mom!

Seriously Braxton. M Anime had this dream, which she wrote into a short story about… She said a crazy general wanted to make her a mother. He did “Bad Things” to her, but she ended up enjoying them. Then he spoke of having sons with her. Breeding? A kinky fetish…

Braxton, as the song asks, “Am I A Psycho?” Well, I’m writing a full-blown manuscript.

Writers, by nature, have to be a little crazy. But “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” Braxton that has been clawing its way through my mind for days. An Erotic Horror? A War Thriller? I don’t know. But if you’re meant to be a man… M Anime and me, B III. Your resurrection. Me as your father. Renewing Braxton’s Membership Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

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I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

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I’m sure I’ll turn to look at the love of my life in bed and then down at my feet and mutter, “Son of a B.” Not in an Eddie Murphy/Marcus Graham sort of way from Boomerang. It’s because B isn’t resting there. V’s trying his best. “Love’s A B, Virgil”

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Something you and Braxton have in common. The reason I’ve been playing the song “Jumper.”

“I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand.”
Third Eye Blind

Must I always jump to memories of my firstborn son, Braxton, who died long ago, long ago, long ago. Four long years, and still, I linger on that first minute. I love it and him.

Only I’m quick to jump onto some mattress with you. Or anywhere, for that matter. Love and lust. Dare I say I might actually like not feeling so sad all the time? I’ll take love over war. As I’ll take Sadism over Masochism. Are those dirty words? If you have read what I have been typing lately in novels. Again, if I sound like anything from Jumper, then be worried.

But Virgil’s here, along with our other children, so you and I, my love, won’t be jumping or bouncing soon.

Son of a B! Am I mad, grieving, horny as the Devil himself. I’m confused and depraved, and even when I wake up, the first thing I think of is that I’ve had enough. Hence, Jumper playing. If only love…

You know what stops me? My son B, B III, Little B, Braxton. I was once… Dad of a B. However, to love like that again, there are no words because there aren’t any answers.

How many words are in the English language again? And I was working with a writer the other day on one of many stories; “The Eve of a Cherry,” “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” The third is an Erotic Horror War Thriller. And thinking of all the horrible things I put in that synopsis. Honestly, is that what love is to me? Is it making someone feel horrible? Like me 24/7. You’re still here.

“In my trials
And my tribulations
Through our doubts
And frustrations
In my violence
In my turbulence
Through my fear
And my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow.”
Will You Be There

My Braxton is not here. But he loved me when I had no earthly or divine idea of how to love myself. And I could honor him by loving myself the way he loved me. The way he chose to love me when he should have been a furball locked away in my sister’s purse.

And that’s why I hear his voice, his bark now. The words “I love you” should mean something. But there are other words… Braxton says, “Don’t be afraid.” You tell me, “Whatever you want.” Virgil and the other kids call me “Daddy.” Myself? “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Love’s A B, Virgil

1535 Days Without B III, Day 976 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will