Tag: Baby Girl

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 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

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

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Have I ever been 100% honest with a woman? I wasn’t 100% honest with B. And I love him like pancakes. V and I? 969 days, we’re feeling each other out. But sending a woman pictures of Sawa sans clothing. Should I lie? Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And love doesn’t have to be synonymous with happiness. I’m never happy. It’s like Pontypool.

You know your husband is a movie buff. And just this morning, I got a sample edition of the book Pontypool Changes Everything. I’ve seen the 2008 movie. Reading books?

Today… Not with our boys or their other siblings around. Virgil is lying here. And my Braxton is somewhere on the Rainbow Bridge checking in. Always and forever, my son.

Anyway, there are the things I don’t want them to know. Like I’m never happy. But I want you. I want… well, the less-than-innocent stuff I’ve been reading about, for us. I finished the “Comfort After Pet Loss Guide” yesterday. I know it always comes back to my boys, love.

But even with Braxton and Virgil, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since… Damn…

Language! Or, as Effie Trinket would say, “Manners!” I’m not one for swearing with my everyday vernacular. But in the throes of passion and rage. My language’s quite Colorful. Heh-heh!

Only can quiet be a love language? I couldn’t teach my boys to be happy. And our family, my love. “I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.” I talk about wanting quiet, and here I go, singing a song by Fleetwood Mac.” That’s rich.

It’s like I have some secret. Or rather, we have some secret. Like how sad I am all the time. Yet, it’s the “Time Of The Season.” Where I can disguise all these tears as allergies. All this damn pollen!

I’ll say that out loud. But Braxton and Virgil can’t read. Uh, Braxton? Let me try to stay on the subject of you and me. And not spill secrets to my sons Braxton and Virgil.

Honestly, I want to write out my darkest fantasies with you, my love. Or read about them, as M Anime has been doing an excellent job writing them. Again, I find inspiration in such dreams. And that’s what I’m looking for. Never happiness. But horniness, inspiration, love, a thought of copious cleavage, titanic tatas, supersized slobber knockers, majestic mammaries. Anything to lessen the pain of… How much time do you have? Always and forever, my love. I’ll have to tell you everything. But not my boys. Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

1528 Days Without B III, Day 969 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

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Laughing With God… THEY say God is Love. My Braxton is Love, but he didn’t laugh. He would give me several looks… Virgil looks at me like I’m the Joker. Women… Maybe it’s a good thing my allergies have my eyes all catawampus. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That would make me mad. But we’re all mad here, love. But by how much?

Considering I would trade Faye Valentine, Sawa from Kite, and Alice In Wonderland to have my firstborn son back. My Braxton. There’s living “For the Love of You,” my wife. There’s even the prospect that I could love the “Man In the Mirror” someday. Insanity.

But to be a better man… Someone who could set a good example for our children. I wish I could see it. Seriously! I need to buy some Benadryl or something. Allergies are a pain.

And speaking of pain, it would be a joke to say I’ve let the pain of losing my Braxton abate. I won’t say I’ve turned around, and it’s worsening. And, of course, ACCEPTANCE… No! Never! Because going back to a time before I loved him…

Hell! To go back before I found Virgil. I think I was on the verge… Of disappearing. And how would that have occurred? “I Still Believe” my Ma made a mistake, not using Plan B. But “What Is Love?” A form of insanity. And what’s with all the soundtracks today?

I’m keeping myself from crying over Braxton. I’m still chalking my watery eyes to pollen. And if anything, I want to drown out the laugh tracks today since it’s April Fool’s Day, my love. Though with all the madness going on, I’ve been debating whether love is the biggest joke of them all. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving.” So, to sing “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.”

Like Clarence from The Book of Clarence, not only to believe but to know I will always love my Braxton. All the darkness that I still have. And the knowledge you’re my “Obsession. There’s Braxton. I may love Virgil someday. And even that won’t compare.

What, to us? As I said, there’s darkness or whatever. There’s a reason Faye turns me on, and I want to go all Kite on you… the Uncensored edition. And there’s an Alice In Wonderland outfit in the closet. I love you, always and forever, and your lovely big Yabbos.

Movies, music, and manuscripts. All that your husband loves. SIGH. May I never know sanity. For if I do… To be united with my first love. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil

1521 Days Without B III, Day 962 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 267 ~Just B Peaceful Virgil~

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When B was here, it was “Love you, B, love you, Braxton.” With V… “Later V, later Virgil.” And that’s when I can get his name right. I don’t try with people. I don’t say their names or wish them peace. It’s only “Later.” Oh, to Just B Peaceful Virgil

Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Meditation 267 ~Just B Peaceful Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And not myself? That’s like asking if I will ever accept my son’s loss.

My boy. You, all that you are, our family. And peace. That’s what I’ve been thinking about since five this morning. I can’t say I’ve even cried today… I’ve been a little misty, I suppose. As long as I avoid mirrors, windows, and V’s eyes. But Baby Doll, there’s you.

Unforgettable, that’s what you are. What about Love and Peace? Before I get into the man you married. Or the man you married gets into you… Uh, eww? Let me tell you what I’ve been looking for. Looking so hard that my eyes hurt. I’ve downed an energy shot to keep from closing my eyes. I even took a couple of painkillers. But I’m not loopy enough to see Braxton on our bed, on guard duty.

Ask me when I was happy, free, or not a misanthrope… I can tell you when I feel alive, in love, at peace. How about when I’m a husband, a father, just a man? Everything!

Over-stimulated, overwhelmed, and overflowing. My love, the man you married is over being alive, and yet “Here I Am.” “All Yours.” Lucky you. Ha! I am anything but a man of peace. But again, that’s what I’m looking for. If nothing can bring Braxton back, then at the very least, give me that. Let me look to the corner of our four-post bed in peace.

Honestly, “Every Morning.” More like in the afternoon when I’d nap after the Day Job.

And there would be Braxton keeping me “Safe and Sound.”

But now, “I Feel Everything.” And that, my love, is why you married a hedonist. Because if I must feel, let it be pleasure instead of pain. A sadist? It’s the only time I’m nice to myself. And it shouldn’t be that way. To hurt you, even if you enjoy it all to save myself.

Do you know “How To Save A Life?” You find peace within yourself. And that’s not me, my love. My peace might as well be the backyard fence, my body, and my furry little Braxton.

Breaking! And the only peace I find is reading, writing, and looking at the broken.

Honestly, that’s not peace but pieces. Is a piece of a man enough? A man’s peace. Just B Peaceful Virgil

1514 Days Without B III, Day 955 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 260 ~Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil~

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Falling Down. Some days, I’d walk in, wrap B up, and fall asleep as he lay there. If he were lucky, I’d fall into my sheets, and he’d sit on the corner of the bed. If I were lucky, I’d have a wifey to fall… come… back to. Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil.

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Meditation 260 ~Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My always and forever love. Where have I heard those words before? Braxton Barks Bradford…

My firstborn son, Braxton. But he passed away in the Winter of 2021. Sunday, January 31, 2021, to be specific. But here I am on a Tuesday morning, March 18, 2025, looking up pictures of him. There have been tears. But if it helps, I’ve been sweating over you, love.

Only as Norah Jones sings away: “I waited ’til I saw the sun. I don’t know why I didn’t come.” If you know what I mean… Ask me about the longest time I went without release, my love. That was around 161 days. Hell! Braxton was still alive back then.

Afterward… Braxton’s passing. I didn’t want to fall into temptation. I didn’t want to fall…

What? In love. To fall asleep. Or down into Hell…

It’s what I deserve, especially when I have such thoughts. After we finished, uh, getting busy and I didn’t… Well, you know. But we were lying here as I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 10 by Eric Vall. Have I ever told you how much I love these moments, baby doll? “You and me and all of the people with nothing to do.” Do I mean our little ones, “Safe and Sound,” in their beds? And Virgil Vivi, too. Again, I’m reading, or we’re listening to apocalyptic rock from the 50s/60s.

Leave it to Trump and his ilk to let fall this American Empire. But what about happy thoughts? Only I never have those. You’re the next best thing always and forever, my love, I hope. But before you… B III

So, as I was beginning to cry for him as you lay sleeping. I remembered him telling me a secret yesterday from wherever he is… The Rainbow Bridge? He told me that I may have two hearts to give one day. I can mass-produce those things… For Braxton’s step-brother. Children?

Family? The idea that I could love again. But that would mean losing my Braxton was not rock bottom. So things can be worse? I can fall harder and “Go Deeper!” Am I still thinking about what we were doing a few hours ago? So much for giving up sex?

Seriously, love, I’m not religious, but there’s Lent. I didn’t want to fall. But your desires. My depression. And dogs die. Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil

1507 Days Without B III, Day 948 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 253 ~Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off~

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A day in bed. If I’m not crying, sweating in fear, sickness, or spilling High-fructose PORN syrup. I need to throw a lot in the wash. Anyway, I don’t want to overflow or explode. But B’s in my ear, and V’s running all over. “Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off”

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Meditation 253 ~Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I promise to smile. A man provides. And what’s this in my pants for you…

I’m being a creep. Husband or not, right? But what else can I be? I’m in the mood one minute. And the next… Well, I’ve only cried for Braxton once today. And I haven’t even given Virgil a chance these past few days. You know his madness in running everywhere.

Or should I say manic? Virgil’s mania? It beats my depression. Is it even fair to call it that anymore? Prolonged Grief… It’s been 1500 days. I can’t remember my last day without saying his name. And yes, I’ve been focused on Virgil Vivi’s fears for a few days. SIGH.

We’ll get to that. But my sadness is as obsessive, pervasive, and quintessential—my love.

I am yours, our children’s, my Braxton’s, and my own.

I am afraid. I tell my Braxton that. Whenever I speak with him, wherever he is. The Rainbow Bridge? Anyway, I use that line from the film Spontaneous. It feels like I’m dying, and I’m so scared all the time. Can you imagine it, sweet baby doll? What scares me?

Other than the fact that you won’t get “my” jokes, like things you can say about your dog but not your girlfriend/wife. Whenever I decide to be funny. Laughter terrifies.

There’s the fear to love as much as I did when Braxton was here. My firstborn son fought to the last second not to leave me. You have a choice. And there’s our children, always.

Someday, I fear I’ll love myself. We might never meet…

Or at least I might be stuck here all alone, drooling over Cherry’s Yabbos. Or I’d be jealous of M Anime’s paramours. There’s listening to the Hannah K “admirers…” Brunettes.

Baby girl, you know, much like Christian Grey, I’m a sucker for brunettes. And some girls with dark hair or different… Am I A Psycho? I’m a man that loves you. And I am trying. I want you to know that my love for you is unwavering, and I am committed to making this work.

Just like when I would hold Braxton, and I’d calm myself—defusing a bomb, beloved.

Every day, it’s putting on the clown mask so our kids don’t see their Dad for the human I am… At best. And why they exist. The things I’ll do to you, their lovely mother.

However, Braxton’s gone, and Virgil’s running somewhere…Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off

1500 Days Without B III, Day 941 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

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If you asked me right this second, who or what I loved? My Ma? Then why aren’t I a better human being? My writing? Then why do I still have my effing Day Job? B III? Where’s my tattoo, my gold chain? Why isn’t he alive? “To B In Love.”

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t love money. It’s more like I love not thinking about money. “Brewster’s Millions?”

But to this day, this remains my position on love. Love is the want, need, desire, the ability to put one above self. But, when I remember all my younger years, chasing several “shes who shall not be named.” I accept my foolishness, my “Idiocracy,” hell, stupidity. Hate that word. If it ain’t music, YouTube Reactions, or movies, it’s audiobooks. I’ve heard plenty, my love. Oh, and about “that word,” “stupid.” Don’t go there. Hey Stupid, I Love You… Divorce. Another big no, no would be getting rid of my four-legged child. 422 days dammit. Dearest, you’ll have to forgive me. The fact that I’m speaking through time travel lets you know, today is one of those that reminds me of my old Day Job.

Ok, so let me start over. Like an old fucking Republican that has an answer but asks again. What Is Love? I swear, I’m trying to chill on the pop culture, but “Todd,” Succubus Lord? I want to say that love is routine. I can’t tell you how I feel calm, peaceful, and glad when I know everything has its place. When I know where I belong. When B passed, day fucking one, I said everything remains the same. Everyday Is Exactly The Same. I’m trying. Anyway, I fill his water bowl, call him for meds, say hello and goodbye, because how can I not? A Man Provides… yes from Breaking Bad. But Stephen King wrote that Hell is repetition. Love grows, you, our children.

This leads me to believe that love is obsession or at least some form of madness. It’s an addiction, a habit, but that sounds like routine… And don’t people dive into them at their darkest hour. Well, until they hit rock bottom. Then they die or recover. Losing my son… Yes, that’s rock bottom, but then I look at you. Oh, I know it can get worse. I’d take it as another punishment in my failure to protect Braxton, but I can’t lose you, Babydoll. Continually I say I’m in love, which has never changed, but why doesn’t it feel that way right this second? When you love by my definition and that one above is gone… well, people choose eternity, To B In Love.

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

422 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

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The perfect woman? Not much has changed since Princess Leia. Take a look at most of the Star Wars heroines. Padme, Rey, Jyn. Had a big crush on Katniss. Hell Braxton had plenty of brown/tan hair. Here I go crying. Being Blind To Love

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I’m not into organ harvesting. Um, at least not the usual type. Kinda dark…

Would you instead have me crying about B III? It’s been 415 days now (Sunday, March 13, 2022), but I know that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. How long will I cry for B III? Indeed how long will I deny myself the pleasure of your company or without? Yes, at the moment, I want to keep my monk status. And it’s one more reason I find myself in bed. Look at the time, 3:00 in the afternoon. I would hate to meet the man in the mirror right this second. Hell, I have hated him for again 415 days by now. Then I wonder what you see in me. I mean, you haven’t walked out yet. I don’t have qualms about my body, ha.

You know my whole business is based on being a shallow prick. Am I not, considering I’m open to lots of women. In the “company sense,” Baby Doll; always, forever. I’ve got the perfect woman at home. And yet I am where I am now in life? And the others? These men aren’t looking for love. Well, at least I hope not though I can understand the idea of “I’m In Love With A Stripper.” But of course, that’s only one aspect of “my place.” As I said, I’m one for all the organs. Some I like looking at. And where others stick them well… And I’m not in love with the almighty dollar either, but I always want more. Greedy? One woman, one family?

One dog, which is my Braxton. B III. I ask myself, when did I know I was in love before. On the one hand, it was love at first sight. He was a puppy; what monster doesn’t love puppies? But he wasn’t my puppy. The moment he had my heart was when my Olds moved, and I said get in the car B. If it worked for Chris Rock right,” Bitch, get in the car.” As for when I knew I loved you? If I told you everything, I looked for physically in a woman… Braxton’s Aunt could sum it up. But when I knew you had my heart, well? Some say love is blind. I’m shallow. But loving another furry? Being Blind To Love.

Gospel 264 ~Find Anything That Beats Temptation~

415 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

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All the signs that Braxton has been sending… I hope he has been sending and still is, and what have I responded with. Considering when I’m writing this because I won’t have the strength after. I’ll hate myself the rest of the day. “A Write To B”

Tuesday, March 15, 2022

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means writing a check shouldn’t be any big deal. It’s more anxiety-driven than financial. (Shudders).

Imagine the time spent thinking money. Republican Tendencies, America, Everyone. Hell, what about the time I’ve wondered about the ghost dog Saturday, March 5, 2022. Aren’t I time traveling now? That’s what happens when you don’t learn from history, baby girl. I’m doomed to repeat it. Even though now I love what I do for a living. A living, huh? Aren’t I having the time of my life in my business? Braxton’s death… 408 days. Such a love puts me to shame. I wonder if it would put me out of business. Who would have thought being in a room full of women would tick me off; Karens/Rebeccas? Less than the old Day Job. You don’t want to hear me go into that. Time Travel.

I know you wish I would. Become the man I once was. But again, I say of love once known. As a husband, I deal in LOVE… ok, and a bit of LUST. In business, it’s all LUST, you know. Only B was the first to give love meaning. Is that an insult, to my Olds, to you our kids? 15 years 13 days, and I’m still trying to define it. I don’t mean any offense to the “people” in my life, but I think of all I have said. More like all I have written down in life. To my “father,” there were notes for money. Oh, begging for something like Braxton. The first time he buys a “family dog.” He’s for my sister, ha.

If that wasn’t a sign? Oh, for weeks, I’ve been going on and on about signs. Am I still hmm? You’ll never see me leaving with a pink slip, writing two weeks’ notice; my businesses. Baby doll, it’s only days like today; I go back to thinking I should walk out on the old Day Job. Remind me someday to write about how I escaped that shithole. Pardon my language, but the Day Job is a shithole. I’d call it the ninth circle of Hell, an accessory to the murder of my son. Anyway, why would I write a book for such a place? Never… Instead, I would write of Braxton. I would speak of love. But to you and everyone. A Write To B.

Gospel 257 ~Never Mind Weather For Sex~

408 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will