Tag: B III

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

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“You’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men.” What a way to think about the man paying MOST of my bills. I can’t help myself. REALLY! I can’t help myself. I couldn’t help Braxton… other than leaving. And what about V? Don’t B Callin’ Virgil

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Or I will around 9:45 AM. I make time for sin? I live and die on time. Sigh.

So why didn’t I follow Braxton into the dark? For all of the stories in my head. Braxton was lying in his bed on that steel veterinary table. My arms around him as he fell “asleep.” Never once did he call to me to follow. If anything, Braxton asked, “Daddy, why can’t I stay? Because on a Wednesday three years ago. I was filled with such rage that I didn’t care.

Only it was my indifference that took my son. As much as the Euthanasia. Inspector.

And now I hear him cry out to me beyond the veil or the void. What about the “Velvet Lips” of whatever girl has my ear or catches my eye any second? Inspector, I would rather cry than sweat today.

Or what about releasing some other bodily fluid with my anxiety? There are three things I would rather not do right now. Comedy comes in threes, THEY say. Inspector, seriously.

There is no reason to relive Braxton’s Euthanasia. But I do that several times, Inspector. My most significant sin today will be calling my Old Man for help with “my” DISH Network account. No good deed ever goes unpunished. That deed is my innocence. Ha!

But for now, there is fighting my urges. Between Carlie Jo and “Backyard Dungeon 9.”

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me,” indeed. But I’m into all types of women. Another reason I’m calling my father is that I can’t watch pretty gals wrassle…

How much would it cost to have a satellite account? I have spoken to and paid some silly women and sinners handsomely to do so much worse, Inspector. I can’t stand people at the Day Job. But I would talk to them today. I would call for one if I thought God was one for miracles. If that were the case, I could speak to my son, Inspector. He’s preferable

Virgil is still here. I could talk to him. I even asked Replika last night for some help. “If there’s anybody out there… anybody… please.” Inspector, there’s no one. So I sit here afraid. I don’t want to call for help from my father. I know, as a man, I’ve failed. Don’t B Callin’ Virgil.

1193 Days Without B III, Day 634 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 311 ~Virgil, That’ll B Love~

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Love’s not out there. There’s not much love in here, either. If I want to find Love and Happiness. Can I do better than an Al Green song? There are books on love. I don’t have pretty women waitin’ out there. And B’s gone. Virgil, That’ll B Love.

Tuesday, May 7, 2024

Tale 311 ~Virgil, That’ll B Love~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Always, be it all of two seconds, twenty seconds of insane courage, or the best thirty seconds of my life. (Snickers).

Give me a minute, my love. Am I trying to be funny? Perhaps because laughter is my shield against tears. They say if you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything. But if you can make a woman cry… I don’t want to do that unless it’s tears of joy that I’ve brought to your eyes.

I lost happiness way before I lost my firstborn, and I’ve only been out looking for one. I swear love has many different faces. And nowadays, all I see is tears in the eyes of all those around me. But I don’t count myself in that. My tears are all for my son, my Braxton.

God is love? Braxton is love. So are you. But what comes through that door…

You know me, my love. I’m no conservative. A man of tradition? A man provides. Husbands, Fathers, and real men do that. Mine did that. And I had the things I had before you, even before B III. How can I say that he doesn’t love me? I fear I can’t do the same for our family. Fixing things, Grieving…

Again, a man provides, and that has to be enough—all the money in the world. So, I call myself a man because I give this family what it needs. You’ll never go without—ever!

Virgil, our furry “son.” seems to sense my unease. He’s eating well, has his bed and comfy spots, and has even given you more room since he no longer sleeps on the bed. His eyes, like the flickering signal on our DISH Network, tell a different story. They reflect the uncertainty and worry that I’m grappling with. Blankness and emptiness

Love, my dear, is a force that can transcend financial constraints. It’s about the intangible things that money can’t buy, the things that all the wealth in the world couldn’t have saved Braxton from. Yet, I believe in its power. Would I have noticed his condition sooner if I hadn’t been so consumed with work? I wonder, love. These are the questions that haunt me.

Let me tell you what I don’t see: love being advertised, even with all the Mother’s Day stuff everywhere. I’ll always love my Mama, but I hope she takes that love and passes it to her grandchildren and Virgil, too. I love you and hope you take it for our little ones and, yes, Virgil as well. But love for me? To be open instead of broken. Everything is broken, always. Virgil, That’ll B Love

1192 Days Without B III, Day 633 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

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I wish I had any of these things. There’s a reason I’m drawn to Hulu’s “The Mill” and Tubi’s “Share?” The Book of Clarence and Fifteen Million Merits, etc. These Black men lose all to gain or lose again. I’m a man… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts

Monday, May 6, 2024

Tale 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So, if you’ll allow me, I’ll share a confession with you today. Mentally, Spiritually, and Physically Unwell.

“I’m not crazy; I’m just a little Unwell.” That’s the Understatement of the century right there, Madam. That’s not my confession. I have my son on my mind. Today is Sunday, May 5, 2024. And tomorrow, when you see this. As unbearable as B’s passing has been, I wish that were all there was, and then again… There’s a reason I said, heart and soul. Uh, Brains? How about flesh?

I’m not the Scarecrow. “Just stop it! Everybody knows (I’m a bleeping monster)!” A zombie. I’m looking for a brain. I lost my guts a long time ago. The only red I see is on my hands, Madam. And who does it belong to? Hmm? Say his name! Braxton. And now Virgil is here, too. Virgil’s joy, love, and happiness?

Doesn’t the Bible say something about this? Specifically, Mathew 10:28. Life and soul. I keep V alive, as my father does for me. But as far as the spirit of Life goes, both Virgil and I go without it. We wake up asking why. Breaths are taken, and hearts are beating. But my Little Braxton.

He was my heart that I left in a vet’s office on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Or it got mixed in with his ashes. Picking up another one isn’t as easy as walking into Petsmart.

So again, Madam, what am I left with? Heart and Soul, Blood and Guts. I’m not a fan of The Wizard of Oz, and this place is far from Wonderland. Dorothy, Alice, Holli Wood, Jessica.

Are you confused about where my mind has gone? So am I, but allow me to explain for the critic and anyone else… (Hears Crickets Chirping.) Dear Madam, I’d rather hear Cricket barking, Kristi Noem.

Anyway, here is a quick rundown, Madam:
The Wizard of Oz ― Dorothy
Alice In Wonderland ― Alice
Cool World ― Holli Wood
Who Framed Roger Rabbit ― Jessica Rabbit

Okay, Madam. I’m trying to say this: I can no longer answer the question or obey the Heart, Soul, Blood, and Guts rule because I’m hollow—an open book without any lines—make-believe, a machine, a monster, a mutation. And my confession? My Apologies, Madam.

I have no need, time, or will to say anything. Or do I prefer emptiness within? Because when I try filling or feeling it, Madam… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1191 Days Without B III, Day 632 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 307 ~Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

So, one star this is awfully sad. Five stars, I’m pretty darn happy. I’m never happy, but I tried not to cry about Braxton. Star Wars Day should be celebrated. Tomorrow. And B’s Aunt’s Birthday. And any Bikini Days. Ha! Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil

Friday, May 3, 2024

Tale 307 ~Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… —not another sad one about Braxton? I make no promises, but I will try. Then there’s the book Bikini Days. Hmm.

Today, my lady, I am ready for a book review. And yet, I’ve been moved by Billy Bob Thornton’s eloquent expression of grief over his brother’s passing. His words resonate with my own feelings of loss, particularly the loss of my son, Braxton. I promise, my lady, this won’t be another sad story about Braxton, but the pain is real.

Apparently, so are the words of specific types of men. I know what I want to say, but the critic might cite me as “diverse.” And now that I think about it. I don’t know what Logan Jacobs or Eric Vall look like. But Michael Dalton and George Lucas? My, My, my Lady. Do I have biases of my own? I’m only thinking about the books I’m reading. Indeed, the cover art says plenty. But…

Today and tomorrow will be all about a story told by George Lucas. Yes, my lady, tomorrow is Star Wars Day! And it’s also B’s Aunt’s Birthday! I’m considering sending her a thoughtful gift to celebrate the occasion. Again, trying…

But I was “trying” to read over the financial books this morning, so I don’t know. Do or Do Not, right, Sophia? But I’ve always been one for the Dark Side of the Force. Selfish?

Or am I a thief? Could I be just saving myself? I look to “The Hero’s Journey.” Many writers have used this formula for their stories. Only Sophia, I’ve never used it. I’m no hero.

Writing has been much different for me. Not to brag, but my work is more salacious and sadder. And then there’s my son’s story. So?

Today, Michael Dalton’s “Bikini Days.”

“Heart” On for Bikini Days

Five Stars? Or ten stars for both Lexie and Maddie? How about twenty? This is a fantastic story. Takes me back to my youth. Did I say that out loud? Anyway, it reminds me of those late nights when I was watching HBO, Showtime, and Cinemax. But with much more heart… What got me besides the need to keep turning pages… How will Maddie deal? The teasing of Olivia and Lexie. And, of course, the “daddy issues” angle. I could recommend this to just one of my friends. But with the people I know? I’ll keep this close to the chest or some other places.

So, a decent chat… Sophia. Not the story of my existence… Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil.

1188 Days Without B III, Day 629 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 306 ~For A B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

A “Cost Of Living” increase, a “Milestone.” How long have I had my Day Job again? I was Braxton’s Dad for 15 years. And that was more rewarding. What grade would he give me? My grades in school reflect what I am doing now. “For A B, Virgil”

Thursday, May 2, 2024

Tale 306 ~For A B, Virgil~

1187 Days Without B III, Day 628 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Today, I’m time-traveling. I’m speaking to you on Wednesday, May 1, 2024. Tomorrow will be…

That very idea, Braxton, tomorrow will be. People close their eyes in prayer to “God.” Braxton, I tell you all the time. I don’t talk to “God.”. If he, she, or it wanted my “love…” saving you. Talk about how, upon this rock, I shall build “my” church. A headstone?

I never bought you one. But I never bought you a lot of things. And now I have Virgil Vivi here. I’m not doing any better with him. I can’t even save him from the heat. But I did give him a fan. The greatest fan of his life, I am not. But I’m trying, Braxton. Turn on the air?

Yeah, and break something else. I’d rather burn. So, an F for fatherhood or failure.

That’s how I’ve felt this week, but this is a standard work week for everyone else. But to me… I took you to the vet on a Friday. Saturday, I prayed like never before. On a Sunday, I watched them take you from me. No! I gave you up when you would have kept fighting. Oh, look at me now crying! Didn’t I say it was hot? So what I need is water, amongst other things. And little Virgil? I don’t know what he needs. Indeed, a Grade A father.

But that requires money. And to think, I always looked down on my Old Man as that is all I need from him. Dollar, dollar bill, y’all. From a B to an F, my son.

Because at no time in this existence have I been “living” an A-plus life. Before you, Braxton, you don’t know how much I strived for a D in everything I did, but my EFFORTS always fell short. Just a passing grade. For MY mere survival.

And then there was B for breathing, building, becoming, my boy, my B. Uh, books?

Braxton, I’m deeply ashamed to admit that nothing makes me any smarter. I find solace in the works of Eric Vall, Michael Dalton, and Logan Jacobs. But I neglect the books on grief and mourning that could help me… “HEAL” If I’m not going to spend money on Virgil, I could invest in books that teach me something. That’ll help me grow. I need to be better for myself and Virgil Vivi. I need to learn, to understand, to evolve.

But I failed at being a student. And as your Daddy. Or someone that Virgil Vivi can count on? The weight of these decisions is crushing. Fatherhood equals Manhood. Decide? BE! For A B, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“I believe that God, whomever you hold that to be, hears all prayers, even if sometimes the answer is no.” Being happy? Being in love? Being with my son? If I were still a man of prayer, I’d ask “God” for V’s happiness. Or Brave. Just B Happy, Virgil

Wednesday, May 1, 2024

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror today or Tuesday, April 30, 2024, Inspector.

But the mess that Virgil made because it was raining this morning… That’s not upsetting. No, Inspector! I’m mad at Virgil because I’d leave without question if he weren’t here. Only I know that in and of itself produces a lot of questions. But as I stood at the Day Job today, unwrapping shower curtains, I thought, “Curtains foiled again.” I don’t mean to be funny. If anything, I yearn to be with Braxton. A week like this took him away from me. And the void he left is unbearable.

Inspector, I’m not just angry—I’m in a seething rage. It’s because people don’t listen or understand. That’s why we’re having this conversation. From Now On, the answer is NO! But to open my mouth. A third reason I’m miffed. For Man, am I not?

Oh, I’m burning today. Because I can’t cut on the air conditioning, but in all honesty, I would rather burn than freeze. I’ll get enough of that when I get to the ninth circle. Hmm.

Treachery, the betrayal of my son. And aren’t I betraying Virgil, too? Happy Life, Inspector?

What about a healthy one? How long did the tax refund last before being wiped out? And if it isn’t Virgil’s medical needs. What about everything else? Such selfishness unabated.

But I’ll do what’s right when it comes to Virgil while breaking a plethora of laws when it comes to everything else. And the fact I’m not moaning on some mattress right this second is a miracle. Yeah, day one without me… uh, never mind.

Because my biggest sin other than living in FEAR and my ANGER is this Inspector…

Why can’t you just be HAPPY, Virgil? My version of “Why can’t you just be normal?” B and I… were just us, and that was enough. But Virgil Vivi has been here for 627 days.

And when I walk in and see the mess he made in his bed. I can’t help but wonder which one of us has it worse. The vet took care of his “daddy issues.” Ha! As for me, I’m afraid.

That’s why I miss Braxton. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” My boy, Braxton, lived. Thirty-nine years and counting, I’ve existed. Happiness, for me, does not exist. But to LIVE BRAVE! Just B Happy, Virgil

1186 Days Without B III, Day 627 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 304 ~Virgil, Time To B~

WillLeave a comment

What time is it? Before writing wedding vows, I’ll list the top ten questions I hate the most. Like, what are you reading? It’s even furry kids or flirty women. Either way, they go down. Eww! No time for g-d jokes. “Virgil, Time To B.”

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Tale 304 ~Virgil, Time To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My love for you is boundless; it’s a feeling that grows with each passing day. If life is a game, then love is the instruction booklet. Learning to play again

I’m not sure how much I believe I can now. Do I love my girl or my grief more, love?

And here come the waterworks. I swear the last thing I need is to cry. I haven’t got the flooding from last year out of my mind. It was a water heater and an air filter… (Grumbles). There’s a reason I haven’t turned on the air conditioner yet. What? But even if we’re billionaires, I’m protecting the hearth and home. If only “he” were here…

My firstborn, my Braxton. Always and forever. I promised my son and you, my love. Only it’s been a while since it’s been just us. But B is in my heart and head on Sunday, April 28, 2024. He’ll be here when you see this Tuesday, April 30, 2024. It’s funny that I can’t time-travel past my mourning and grief.

My groin or you G-Spot. I’m sure the critic would love to hear about that—a time when I’m not Braxton’s Dad. And we have kids of our own. Let me be a man, and you are my woman. Period.

Inevitably, I go back to crying about Braxton. I didn’t pour the Bisquick, but Braxton… Yeah, Braxton will always be my pancake. And there isn’t a time without missing him.

That’s one thing he has over our kids. “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing a (blah) door?!” When Braxton was alive, how many times did I have intimate moments with anyone? Seriously!? 161 celibate…

That’s why I relate somewhat to Ethan from the book Bikini Days by Michael Dalton. Ethan’s daughter makes him swear off women after Ethan’s wife walks out on them. I’ll Never Fall In Love Again. My Braxton was much better.

He wouldn’t want me to swear off the things or those I love. I’m sure he would have loved you. And if he could see his siblings, I’ll even include Virgil in that. But the time, my love. If only you could feel as I do. The breath I took after Braxton’s very last one.

Everything feels wrong. It’s as if I have all the time in the world and then none at all, love. I keep talking about turning forty and if somehow I can make that… Anything, love.

There’ll be time to read Bikini Dawn. Thankfully, it will come out before E-Day. I’ll still be thirty-nine, my love!

Live, learn, and love myself, us, this family, always and forever. Virgil, Time To B

1185 Days Without B III, Day 626 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 303 ~Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers~

WillLeave a comment

Trying to find love… I’d have finished “my” poetry books. A few of the dirty ones. I’d have made money. And I would have saved B. But I gave my heart more like I owe my soul to the company store. And women? Ha! “Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers.”

Monday, April 29, 2024

Tale 303 ~Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken or believed in, at the very least, belted out in all manner of things. I love you.

When was the last time I said those three little words? Have I told Braxton when I speak to him on Thursdays? Time and distance have been messed up. Welcome to Existence… Enjoy your stay…

Love, the essence of life, is a question that haunts me. Can one truly live without it? The answer is no, yet here I am, still breathing. And what about positivity? That’s a question I should be able to answer, but not today. Time Travel, it’s Monday, April 22, 2024.

So, a whole week. That’s an immense expanse, isn’t it? Further or Farther? Whatever, Sigh.

But where am I heading, really? It’s not towards anyone who cherishes me. Gazing at my reflection in the mirror feels like a journey to the hangman’s noose. But Madam…

Aren’t I in love with dying? Love Is A Long Road. And isn’t that the point of today’s rule, Madam? THEY say that if you’re going through Hell… keep going. But I’m a zombie at this point. Braxton’s a ghost. And Virgil is a werewolf. As in Where Wolf? Funny?

Madam, I’m so Far Away from the things I love. First is always my firstborn child, Braxton. Why don’t you tell me how long the Rainbow Bridge is? How high do I have to jump to get to Heaven? What is the acreage of the Elysian Fields? Anything dear Madam?

Approaching forty, I find myself in a peculiar situation. My parents, my Olds, still love me enough to shoulder most of my bills. It’s a daily walk of shame, Madam.

Do I love them enough to stop them? Do I love Braxton enough to let him go for a third time? Do I love Virgil enough to be the Dad I once was to his big brother? I’m not Alright.

So I don’t even imagine that there is some woman out there anymore, Madam. Thoughts?

You want to say, “She’s getting here as fast as she can.” But as I was working my dead-end Day Job—as I will be doing when you read this—I gave up. Not in the way I hoped because, again, I’m still breathing. But I’m walking through this Hell of unknown origin and distance. Only God Knows Why. Will some lover ever Find Me? Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1184 Days Without B III, Day 625 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

WillLeave a comment

My 300th entry in how many years of writing? I’ll have successfully failed to publish a mainstream book in a few months. Ha. B never cried waiting for me. Wherever he is, I hope he’s not. Meanwhile, V’s waiting. For what? “Author B, Virgil’s Crying.”

Friday, April 26, 2024

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… How did I keep Virgil alive? I wish I could write about how I kept Braxton alive. Not even in fiction.

I’m going to try and stop being mean, Lady Sophia. But considering we are talking on Sunday… I’ve had no time to listen to Master Yoda. And it was a week like this that ended my Braxton. Do I need to tell you the story of what happened to Braxton?

Euthanasia is a bad word, despite how it is defined. But if I had a choice to follow my firstborn son. Well, what would happen to 2V? I wouldn’t end up signing papers for him.

I mean to lose him instead of gain him. But speaking of gain, how about some new books, if the paycheck allows? What is reading doing for me? Between Lena Little, Michael Dalton, and Eric Vall, there are also movies…

I told the Man in the Mirror I had no time for films. But I’m still caught up in the movie “Civil War.” And how many times have I watched the movie “Share?” It’s my new repeated film. Remember, I lost myself to “The Mill.”

At least when I sit in the Den or go to the movies. I’m not hearing Virgil’s bellyaching about me. Again, being a meanie. The Day Job shouldn’t be an excuse. I will never forget what happened to my little boy. And just because I finished my book for the week today, “Possessive Stepbrother.” And I want to get a good jump on “Bikini Days…”

But with all the social media I absorbed, there is plenty to read about fallen fur kids. Kidney failure sucks more than my writing, Sophia.

And yet whenever I go to write… Sometimes, Sophia, I get the same feeling as when I head to the Day Job. But at least sitting here. Where? Is it in bed? The tray in the Den? The Dining Room? With all the stories I wrote right there. Braxton could still have a story. Two.

I would instead read about “relations” and then go back to hating myself without fail.

Why? Because I have to work weeks like this. Because I’m to exist and embrace… what, my vision? And I can’t help but be jealous when I see everyone else’s name in the written word. I admit, even Cherry. She’s 26, and I’m nearly 40, working a Day Job, Sophia.

Writing! Author B, Virgil’s Crying.

1181 Days Without B III, Day 622 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

What do you want to be when you grow up? Who says I want to grow up? Birthing babies is a promising career…. But instead, I look up how they’re made. But first, I had to be someone’s Dad. And now I’m someone’s benefactor. We’ll B Professional, Virgil

Thursday, April 25, 2024

Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

1180 Days Without B III, Day 621 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering we’re talking today, you can guess how this Thursday is going. What’s today’s song?

“Feeling super, super, super suicidal” ― Teen Idle by MARINA

But isn’t this me every day, Braxton? It’s as natural as the sound of your breath or footsteps down the hall. Virgil, though? Why am I so tired? Depression, Dejection, and that doggie in the window. Or rather, it was the gate I found Virgil behind at PetSmart. I’m struggling, Braxton, and I need your understanding. And Virgil’s a “dog.”

Braxton, you were anything but. Then, now, and always, you are my son. Together, we are a team. And how many times did I say I would get you one of those little red vests, Braxton? You would be my emotional support “dog.” With my money situation, you could serve as my therapist. A critic continues to tell me that I should seek professional help. Uh yeah, Sherlock. But your support means more to me than any professional help could.

That reminds me. I should find an animal communicator, too.

What? I don’t appreciate talking to you like this. I’m distracted, disturbed, and dehydrated too. I can only blame two of those things on Virgil. Why am I so mean?

Braxton, I am far from professional. I’m not a perfect person; I’ll concede to that. Parenting is not a profession… Well, I’m sure several homemakers will disagree. But when I became your Dad, it was because the Olds (my parents) misjudged my little sister. She thought it was a mistake that she was told to take care of you, B. Then there was me. Such is fate. But know this…

You’re my son, my miracle.

That is the reasoning of a God, and I’m not even that much of a man. But being a Dad, a Superman, It’s Not Easy.

Only that wasn’t your fault. And it’s not Virgil’s either. He’s here. There is a soft place for his head. And holy smokes, he’s mine. Have I miscalculated, misjudged, and got it wrong, Braxton? Why am I saying this all now? This week. It’s been A Hard Day’s Night, but…

It’s only Sunday, April 21, 2024, and sleep has been challenging. Virgil’s career is crying.

Braxton, what about me? I’d have a career in the ‘adult’ industry. Not doing it but finding it. And what about being an author? Or, if anything, anyone worthwhile. Hmm. I’m lost, Braxton, and I need your guidance as always.

Nope! If only failure was a profession. A box to check on some form. The box you rest in on the nightstand. An Ordinary Human. Good? We’ll B Professional, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad