Tale 317 ~The Survivors Will Write History~

A particular history teacher would quote: history is written by the victors. Napoleon flipped it, as I see White Supremacists do daily. If anything, I only try to survive my own. But writing it gets harder every day. The Survivors Will Write History.

Monday, May 13, 2024

Tale 317 ~The Survivors Will Write History~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Only because I prefer to be a victor. But for now, the rule stands: I’m a survivor.

What? Well? Why? Oh! And my name is Will. As I begin most of my days I remember this, Madam. I remember him. My firstborn son, my Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back. Did I Outwit, Outplay, Outlast him. No, I’m unlucky and unfortunate. I am not unalived as the youth say these days. “Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.” I wish I felt that strong. Or that I was that smart. But still, I survive.

And I come to you on Sunday, May 5, 2024. If I were one for prayer… Besides for B’s life. I would pray I don’t have to see this again. But for as STUPID as I am together, we cry…

I’m a survivor! I swear.

I spoke to you earlier today and asked the question… Why. And I’m not for gratitude, I’m sorry to say. And you could have it all. My empire of dirt. If I’d see Braxton again. Madam, I also want Virgil (2V) to be Safe and Sound… I swear I need to turn off the music.

Anyway, what have I survived? I already wrote the Six Impossible Things list today. But…

The worst thing that could happen. And that, again, was losing my son. Braxton passed. Behind that is the thirty-nine years I’ve been alive, each day becoming the worst. There’s the Day Job. I don’t wanna go to work. I don’t wanna work tomorrow. Gratitude, right, Dear Madam. To provide…

To survive. So, number four would be my Old Man. Don’t I sound ungrateful, Madam? Five would be The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And add to that The Cherry Collision. One of these days, I’ll tell you what that all is about. Such Humiliations Galore.

But isn’t that me breaking the rule? Since I won’t tell you how I survived. Or I could be like… THEM. And make my losses triumphs. I could “whitewash” history. But I’m not a liar. And I’m nowhere near as bad as Kristi Noem. Where’s B III again? How’s Virgil?

That leads me to number six. I write to you, the girls, B III, and the man in the mirror. It’s hard, but I survive. The Survivors Will Write History.

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

1198 Days Without B III, Day 639 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 315 ~Braxton and Virgil DISH~

Dish, gab, spill! Every day I exist, I realize why I was cursed… uh, blessed, with bad teeth. Everyone TELLS me to talk, and when I do… I understand why Virgil is so quiet until I leave. And Braxton would bark at everything. “Braxton and Virgil DISH”

Saturday, May 11, 2024

Tale 315 ~Braxton and Virgil DISH~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Sigh. As far away as I am from that “goal.” I still want my own channel.

Pure Taboo meets Reagan Kathryn, Jessica Nigri, Court Carmody, Mariah Mallad, Jahara Jayde, and I could go on. And I could do so much MORE, Lady Luna. I’m still shocked.

My world feels shattered, Lady Luna. I’m overwhelmed, so I find solace in the world of cosplayers and streamers. But I’m not ‘streaming’ all over the place, Lunalesca. You know.

This DISH Network situation is like my Braxton. You don’t know what you got till it’s gone. Did I ever mention that Braxton liked to watch wrestling? I don’t remember who fought the night of Friday, January 29, 2021. That’s when I found out that my firstborn son was dying.

You don’t know how badly I wish I could follow him this day. And why? To dish with my father.

Remember the song ‘Dance with My Father?’ That’s all Braxton wanted to do, Lady Lunalesca. And yet, I’m filled with fear when it comes to talking to my own father. Why? Because I always feel like everything is ‘my’ fault.

Name three things that are mine: Braxton, Blame, and the Bed. Trust me, Lady Lunalesca, with as much time as I spend here, it’s mine. Even Virgil knows that. Whenever Virgil knows I’m about to fall asleep, he jumps out to find other accommodations. It makes me wonder, Lunalesca. He stays away from B’s bed. Smart! He jumps out of mine at bedtime, Lady Luna.

I’m supposed to read on the loveseat and watch TV from bed unless Braxton’s Aunt is here. And Braxton wouldn’t mind her joining us in bed. Braxton wanted a mom.

That’s one more promise I couldn’t keep to Braxton. As a Dad, I failed him. I didn’t have much of a chance at being a husband. And as a man… Nope, I’m calling my father.

Lunalesca, it could be worse. I could disturb Ma, but tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Sigh.

It always comes back to money. I don’t have anything I could give Ma. Braxton?

Grandbaby that he was because, again, look around. The fence he once guarded is falling across the yard. The very floor he once walked on I destroyed with fear, Lunalesca.

Even the TV he watched… No Raw, NXT, or Smackdown. And when his Dad isn’t reading. I watch Raven, Lulu, Aerith… “Relations.” The failure, THAT’S ME! Braxton and Virgil DISH

1196 Days Without B III, Day 637 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 314 ~B Powerful Virgil, Or…~

“Get locked up; they read books to pass the time.” Or write them. And in the middle are book reviews because what else am I doing? I’m not locked up. I just stay “home” with the storms and DISH Network being out. Such is Power. B Powerful Virgil, Or…

Friday, May 10, 2024

Tale 314 ~B Powerful Virgil, Or…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… And no, it’s not about a big, brave dog. Braxton’s gone. And Virgil? Thou Art Courageous…

NOT!!! But to be wise, seek out wisdom, and be WOKE, as THEY say these days, is scary. Only I need a reason to wake up at all. And for that, Sophia, I will give you four words: “So then what happened?” So, Lady Sophia, I read stories of bravery and pretty women, Big Uns.

So, nothing about Braxton anymore? Not even yesterday, after I finished two more blog posts. I did work on some of “my” poetry book, “GULP.” Writing is a superpower… Ha!

Saving Braxton was not. But I can’t help but think that if I weren’t at the Day Job—more to the point, if I wasn’t enraged there—I wouldn’t have been indifferent towards Braxton. And he’d be alive instead of…

Well? A story—two stories, to be precise. They are still sitting here as I read about everything and nothing. Francis Bacon said, “Knowledge Is Power.” George Orwell warned that “Ignorance Is Strength.” But again, what have I been reading? Another novel from Logan Jacobs. According to “my” last saved quotes—dare I say, I’m gaining something like a brain?

Even if I was, how many wise people could you say have any sort of power? And that is what I want. But this week has been a show of my lack of power. Because I haven’t been watching anything on DISH Network, have I? The absence of power in my existence, Lady Sophia. And yet I dote on words.

A “Backyard Dungeon 8” Review.

I don’t “8” Backyard Dungeon:

Three stars for family, fighting, and another word starting with F. Four stars for fun. And five wives? Yes, I liked it. But love. This is the eighth book in the series, but it’s still not there. It reads like a demonic sitcom with some softcore mixed in. Nice! My favorite part. Being somewhat a romantic. I liked the first wife getting her day. And Eddie and the boys. The fighting and other things… Bonus. But while I can let some things in this book slide… Uh, Nictors? And even Scourge. I keep this good ole’ boy romp from friends.

Weirdly, I can be negative about someone else with power. Yet I have none. Virgil doesn’t. B Powerful Virgil, Or…

1195 Days Without B III, Day 636 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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 308 ~Don’t B COOL, Virgil~

Is being into “Pop Culture” cool? My son B was a pretty cool dude. And now. Well, he’s not in the cold, cold, ground… V wasn’t very cool until I cut on the AC. Finally! I was cool enough when my father blamed me for something. “Don’t B COOL, Virgil.”

Saturday, May 4, 2024

Tale 308 ~Don’t B COOL, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… In my dreams, Lady Lunalesca. The things I could do with ‘cold hard cash.’ But I remain in bed, grappling with the reality of being broke.

“Some of you love sleep more than you love success.” Lady Lunalesca, I love Braxton. Where would I be if I loved everything the way I love my firstborn son? But no. My tears keep me cool, or so I thought. And I’m headed towards the Ninth Circle, regardless, Lu.

Another way I realized or remembered how to be cool… I need only talk to my old man. The fear he instills in me, the fear of being the source of his ire, chills my blood and paralyzes me. Even when I’m not to blame.

Then there’s this morning. Even when I’m not flipping through actual book pages, Lady Luna. I still ended up buying three for twenty-two bucks. And so, what now, dear Lu?

I swear my brain is a block of ice sometimes.

But at least I know what today is. Star Wars Day? WWE Backlash? Braxton’s Aunt’s Birthday! She’s turning thirty-four. To think. I’d miss being that young, with all the possibilities and dreams. But now Lu.

First thing… no, second, maybe third. I missed B III and then had to take Virgil, the other furry kid, outside. Leave it to someone like Kristi Noem to make me want to be better towards V. Kristi, puppy killer!!!

Well, that third thing I was doing this morning was “Turning Japanese…” That’s not cool. I’m sure the critic will say that—if THEY say anything worthwhile. Everything stops when it comes to “Pretty Woman.” And now I’m listening to music, avoiding moaning. Women, mine…

Lunalesca, I’ve been trying to avoid turning on the air conditioner. But yesterday afternoon… SIGH

I tell myself I was trying to take care of Virgil. But I could be trying to adapt to my ‘eternal home.’ First for betraying my boys, then thinking I betrayed my Old Man. Ha!

I was terrified when he called me yesterday about one of my bills. Only an hour later, he called back, saying it was all his fault. During that time, I was unable to move. Frozen.

But the ironic thing is that I wake up wishing I was cooling in the ground every day. I deserve it. Only I would never see Braxton again. And who would look after Virgil, Luna?

Yet I don’t know how the UNDERWORLD works. Then again, Succubus Lord, Backyard Dungeon, Bikini Nights. Don’t B COOL, Virgil

1189 Days Without B III, Day 630 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 307 ~Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil~

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 303 ~Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers~

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 301 ~Virgil Storms Braxton’s Gates~

Will it rain? Am I going to cry about Braxton now? Or will I find some girl to drool over? Or I could work hard and clean up after Virgil. I could cut the grass or fix the fence. Now that’s funny? A storm of activity. “Virgil Storms Braxton’s Gates.”

Saturday, April 27, 2024

Tale 301 ~Virgil Storms Braxton’s Gates~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… How about asking the questions, “How Are You,” How Do You Feel,” or “Are You Alright?”

I’m exhausted right now. I’m not napping now because I want the cappuccino to stay warm—not as cold as my firstborn son. It’s always about Braxton. Here and now.

Yesterday, more like this whole week, has had me contemplating my Braxton’s final breath. It’s cruel that I must use his memory to remind me of this. No matter how bad things get, I’ve survived worse. I’ve seen fire, and I’ve seen rain. But Sunny Days, Lunalesca. Let the storms come. The sound of thunder is nothing to Braxton’s silence.

I had to listen to the third worst thing this universe offers only yesterday. It was my voice while I hid in the office like a pathetic coward on Friday.

The critic keeps telling me I need to be positive. Virgil cries more than me. I swear, one of these days, we might end up drowning each other in tears.

Lunalesca, he doesn’t even sleep in here anymore. I set up the gate and placed his pillow outside in the hall. I don’t know how this all started, but this week has been challenging, Luna.

Again, it has me imagining my son’s last breath and the emptiness that came after. Then there’s the second-worst sound in the world. That’d be my birth, breathing and crying.

Do you understand why I need my music, manuscripts, moans, and meaningless distractions? All as I lay here upon this mattress. In this house, Lunalesca.

And still, I’ll have to go over the gate because Virgil needs something. Being manly… Lunalesca that means I have to be a Dad. Or at least someone who takes care of his responsibilities. Have I looked around the house? The place is falling apart. Money? If I keep behaving as I did yesterday, I won’t have the little bit that I have now, Lunalesca.

All I’m finding is fear. And any forgiveness eludes me. Like a dry spot, Lunalesca. Virgil is going 1 and 2 all over. What am I doing besides cleaning up after him? As for me.

Everyone says, “blood, sweat, and tears.” Not to mention other bodily fluids. Because I can’t keep my pants on, Lunalesca. Being a coward or creep. Raining, pouring, the old man’s snoring. Virgil Storms Braxton’s Gates

1182 Days Without B III, Day 623 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

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 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

I don’t smoke… anything anymore. But now people are banning and/or burning books. There are plenty of hot bodies. And it’s been around 1177 days since my boy was burned. That was Thursday, February 4, 2021. Troubled? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

Monday, April 22, 2024

Tale 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

Three-Hundredth And Fortieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken, but how do I even see them? And no, I have not aligned with the book burners—never! But how do I even perceive these rules, these societal norms that seem to guide our every step? But…

Never say never, right? As far as I was concerned, Braxton, my beloved son, would live forever. And Virgil? I should pick up a book on dog training. I’ve said the same about a cookbook.

That brings me back to cooking. What did I consume that’s causing this unsettling feeling? If I still do, Justice. It’s Sunday, April 14, 2024, and as I converse with you today, you know your Monday is a source of dread for me. I anticipate this entire week will be much the same thing. Sigh.

I see the bad moon a-risin’. Is that another way of saying, I see smoke?

When it came to my son, I pretended not to. And again, there’s Virgil. There’s this house. My entire existence…

But let’s start with something smaller… something bigger. I am equal opportunity when it comes to the female form. I shouldn’t make jokes if I don’t want to be a comedian. Only, I’m not a fireman, either. When things get hot… For example, Sylvia Van Hossen and Saya Otonashi. What is it with me? A few weeks ago, my thing was older women in formal attire. Today, it’s girls with swords. It doesn’t take anything to get me hot and bothered. Heavenly Sword’s, Nariko. Ha-Ha.

Inevitable, like my thirst, terror, or tonight, tomorrow, and the next day wishing I was…

Anyway, I wish I knew what it was that gets me to, “fire away.” Is it the stress of seeing everything getting burned all around me? But again, I pretend.

Only I know I must light a fire under myself to get moving. The fact remains. I got this week’s schedule and know I’ll be burning with my humiliations galore, like the Fourth of July.

Only I know I can’t escape the fires that await me. If I do right by Virgil Vivi, will I have the chance to see my son again? Even before I knew my little Braxton, I was set to burn.

There is smoke everywhere, and I don’t know if I’m cold, cruel, or cowardly anymore. The one thing nobody says about me is, “Let him cook.” No, I’m not that special, my lady. I know.

But I am troubled. There’s smoke and darkness. Lighten up? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

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

1177 Days Without B III, Day 618 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will