Tale 327 ~Virgil Will B Back~

Will my Dad get back to me? I’m sure my son asked that, as I never left his side until he got sent to Heaven. Hell! If I wanted to join B, I could talk to my father. But, I won’t see paradise. I’m a sinner, a machine, or a zombie. Virgil Will B Back.

Thursday, May 23, 2024

Tale 327 ~Virgil Will B Back~

1208 Days Without B III, Day 649 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m coming to you on Friday, May 17, 2024. But that’s not entirely accurate. Right?

1208 Days have passed since you left. I’ll say the same of 1202. Even on day 1, the silence has become more profound, turning our world into ‘A Quiet Place.’ Am I still making too much noise about things that don’t matter, Braxton? Our “lives.”

Like father, like son. You kept me safe from what goes bump in the night. Only the FEAR always comes back. Is that why you wanted to be so scary? I was only scared of you when it came to you wearing clothes. Yes, like father, like son. And don’t ask me why I’m speaking to you so late in the day. I’m sure Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or whatever is full of toys and pretty good girls. Ha-Ha! There’s nothing to be afraid of there, B III. I hope.

But this is your Home. It still pains me to utter that word. Home? Of all the things I’ve gotten wrong. Braxton, “I’m sorry I didn’t do none of it right.” But bringing you back here? Well, I did, in a way. I haven’t opened your box, tomb. Uh, casket? Since the day I got it back. I’m too terrified of losing what’s left of you. And what’s left of me, B? Your Old Man.

FEAR of my Old Man.

It shouldn’t matter, Braxton. None of this is my fault. I’m not barking my head off about any of this. Well, except with you. I yearn to feel the indifference again, Braxton. How dare I?

But I can feel it again: FEAR, FURY, and FORGETFULNESS.

That I am a man? Like I’ve ever been? Like when you would play with your toys. Or with your Aunt’s… Yabbos. I’m all too familiar with my man parts, but being your Dad is what made me a man… of sorts. And I wish whoever that was would come back. But I mistook V for you. And whoever I’m looking at in the mirror. B’s Dad isn’t coming back.

Joe Stevens was a cog in the machine. Number 14 was a performer. Clarence became a corpse. And Bingham Madsen was a sell-out. At least he had money—his comeback.

Only, I’m no leader. I’m not much of an OnlyFans “performer.” How about writing? ” I’m not Jesus or rich. Still, Virgil Will B Back.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

As long as Braxton’s food and water bowls are clean. 2V isn’t doing too bad. And soon, he’ll have even more space to run around when I send DISH Network all their stuff back. And if I were a famous writer or star on OF… “Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton.”

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton is gone. The house needs to be fixed. In the backyard, the fence is falling down, etc.

If I can survive B’s passing, I can survive anything. That’s my constant thought, Inspector.

DISH Network has nothing on the euthanasia of my furry son. Still, when you grow to know, rely, and expect something. Even when it’s crappy TV. And the Old Man told me he had to go off on them. But still, I hate myself for being the drama of everything.

That’s my problem, Inspector. I look at inconveniencing the Old Man as I look at depriving my son of his life. And at the end of the day, everything is always my fault. I know.

So, long story short… The Old Man isn’t paying a $189.00 bill. I’ll be watching wrestling a day late. And I’ll have to stream AMC.

But the most humiliating part is this: DISH looked up the records of all I’ve been watching. So, I was wasting money by not watching enough. And then the things that I did—uh, Eww!

The secrets that I try to keep Inspector. And then there are the secrets I don’t have to spit out. Yet… Spitters Are Quitters. Inspector, I’ve said I am a “Pop Culture So And So.”

Already, I’ve been catching up on so much wrestling that the Algorithm is coming after me with a vengeance. Better artificial intelligence than all the girls I’ve done wrong, ok.

There’s M Anime and Cherry. I was busy catching up with them, Inspector Echo. So? Don’t worry. Though I haven’t kept “it” in my pants. It’s only been on OnlyFans. Like Norah Jones sings, Don’t Know Why I didn’t… um

Maybe because I didn’t have my “toys.” Before B III rested on the nightstand in 2021. Before, I had to get a weapon during COVID. You know what I was doing on the daily. Ha!

Yesterday, though, there was a violent knock at the door, and I had to go into the nightstand drawer and grab my weapon. Didn’t a man lose his life a few weeks ago doing the same thing? Senior Airman Roger Fortson? I snatched my gun and went to the door.

Well, I’m alive, Inspector. But I thought about this mess of existence. I’m still alive.

Existing is messy. But Virgil’s eating. Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton

1207 Days Without B III, Day 648 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 325 ~Virgil Can B Choosy~

Do I have a choice? Yes. It’s why I look in the mirror, not the nightstand drawer. What? The world’s dangerous, and there’s Heaven, Hell, or the Rainbow Bridge, which I believe my Braxton found. But it wasn’t his choice. Virgil Can B Choosy

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Tale 325 ~Virgil Can B Choosy~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… A choice? Sure. One that can’t be undone. Our children. My son, Braxton. Even Virgil.

The things that come into my world. But I didn’t choose the world. It’s been a hard few days living in it. And yes, if my B were still here, the past 1206 days would have been no question. Now, that is a lie. But like the promise I made to you. Always and forever.

Whenever I walked out the door, there were three phrases, three words each. “I’ll be back,” “Love ya, B,” and “Love ya Braxton.” No matter what happened, I love Braxton.

That was enough to survive, whatever. And then you ask, what about you? The kids? It’s my choice to come back to my family. I choose you, lover, every day. But it’s a hard choice. I know I sound selfish.

It’s like looking in a mirror. When I see myself even after all this time. I want to do my best Johnny Cash impression. “I hurt myself today.” If I could see myself like Braxton.

Pure love. I’ve told the story time and time again of when my Olds were moving, and Braxton was standing there. “Get in the car!” I yelled. Braxton did not hesitate. He made his choice. B III didn’t know where it would lead, but that choice to love was enough.

Virgil didn’t get that choice. And you, my love, didn’t choose to love, whatever it is I have become. A man of constant sorrow. Because even the choice of me getting up seems too much.

I wake up feeling robbed.

Braxton wasn’t stolen. If I blame anyone for his passing, it’s a former Day Job and my indifference. And that’s why “I Feel Everything.” Grief and sorrow seem the safest.

There was a time when I existed as “lust’s passion will be served…” As if that’s changed with all I do. I’m still in business, after all. The books, babes, and bucks. I want it all. Braxton, though, will not be a part of that. And now choosing to be here. Right here, this moment.

“It’s All Coming Back To Me Now.” A thousand choices shout praises! But make one.

Loving you? I will. Doing right by family. Yes. Existing without my boy? I’m here!

Choose to be happy? Staying enough? Virgil Can B Choosy

1206 Days Without B III, Day 647 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 324 ~Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation~

I ask for my Braxton back. I ask not to regret breathing. And to not be a blogger. But I sit in bed messing up the words because I have a Day Job. So, I’m blogging instead of writing. I promised B, but… Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation

Monday, May 20, 2024

Tale 324 ~Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But not this one. Well, not unless I’m not here anymore. And how I HOPE for that.

Another week feels like an eternity. It’s Sunday, May 12, 2024. Another tear? Another breath.

Have I forgotten where I am and what I’m doing? If this is the First Circle, Limbo. Then, I could see no better punishment for a writer. If only that were my greatest sin, Madam.

Nowadays, I drift between what I did to my son, Braxton. Then there’s my father. Blogging away about those two extremes when it is still Mother’s Day. I know, Madam.

But if I stopped writing, I would honor women, specifically my mother. Honoring my father would mean keeping my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. So I’m stupid. And to honor my son, I would join him. Only he has a story. People should read it.

And so every day, whether I want to or not, I wake up, whittle away time, and write. It’s more like I cry out for him, Braxton, B III! I argue about balls. And then I blog away. This is my way of keeping him alive. Or, so I thought.

So, how long have I been doing that? How long has this blog existed? Oh! Please understand, Madam. I’m not begging anyone to look at this “work” anymore. I don’t. Only these words in Sister Act 2 have stuck with me: “If when you wake up in the morning. you can think of nothing but writing…then you’re a writer.” Now, when I wake up, there’s Braxton first. Then, the question of why I’m breathing. And then there’s this blog. Daring to call myself a writer…

That’s like calling myself a reviewer. This leads me to where this rule came from. It’s from the movie Contagion. “Blogging is not writing. It’s graffiti with punctuation.” But my writing is simply a mess. The Mess! Madam Justice, I’ll get into all sorts of movies at this rate. But I’m not here for that. And since I won’t edit my novels for Braxton, Madam.

What is it I’m doing? Right now, I’m hoping the DISH Network people come through so I won’t have to keep writing about being a fool and my father. Forgive me for my whining, dear Madam. Yet my words have done far worse, haven’t they? Up against the wall, on Mother’s Day. I’m not writing. Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation.

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

1205 Days Without B III, Day 646 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 323 ~B To Jump, Virgil~

While missing my son, I’ll have more time for gaming. I lost DISH Network… Gave it up? Either way, I didn’t want to listen to my Old Man and THEM again. So I jumped, I took the leap. But Braxton’s not doing that from Heaven… “B To Jump, Virgil.”

Sunday, May 19, 2024

Tale 323 ~B To Jump, Virgil~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… How dare I call myself a man, especially with everything that went down yesterday. And you? Please!

I don’t mean to be so mean this late morning (9:40 AM). All of my mistakes must have tired you. And you woke up at two something in the morning. So, to get back to sleep, you… Well… You didn’t “rut,” Release, or rescind your oath. Somehow, someway. A miracle?

It’s called rage, grief, depression. You’re discombobulated or Bipolar… Now, don’t go calling a doctor. Seriously, don’t! You don’t have the money. So, what might help you with everything? What, besides Braxton? Every day, you must remember, Braxton Is Gone!

And Virgil? Where is he?

Not helping. But that’s not Virgil’s job… You can get into that later. But what you woke up thinking about today is video games. Oh, and those Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Backyard Dungeon 9 (Is Done) Bikini Nights by Michael Dalton
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 007, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 014 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Now, when you think of video games, there is one in particular, Far Cry 5. Nothing to “spicy.” Uh, Deputy Joey Hudson, Faith Seed, etc. But you wanted to play because of the 2nd Amendment. Ha-Ha! No! I had Too Much Time On My Hands. And you know what I’ve been thinking about last week. I have a joke for you. It could be a riddle. If only a question.

What do your son and your father have in common? They both make you want to disappear. I wanted to go wherever Braxton went to be with him. And I wanted to escape my father. The same action would give you both. But you’re not that far gone yet. Sigh.

If you’re scared of drowning, you can’t. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Backyard Dungeon 10, Or Something
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 014, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Dude, you can’t jump and do these things. You’re too scared, STUPID, and got Too Much Sauce. Especially the kind that’s all up in your giblets and has you looking up “romantic” anime and reading Backyard Dungeon 10. That’s why your feet are firmly planted on the ground. I know you don’t want to stay, but you want to know what’s new, next and no good. It’s why you refuse to Jump Ahead to the ending of this mediocre existence.

Perhaps you’re playing the wrong game. Xbox has a B button, but you’re on PlayStation.

So if you ask anything this week… Why Braxton is gone. Or why Virgil jumps off the bed. What makes you jump (hump), do Sum Thing? B To Jump, Virgil

1204 Days Without B III, Day 645 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 321 ~Happy To B Virgil~

I do like a book that has Happily Ever After. So I’m a bit ashamed I haven’t been reading about fur buddy memorials. My son Braxton and I didn’t get Happily Ever After. So buy more books… I’m keeping Virgil healthy, if not happy. “Happy To B Virgil.”

Friday, May 17, 2024

Tale 321 ~Happy To B Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or should I buy you one? You should stay away from the search bar and finances.

There is no happiness to be found in such places. It’s a constant battle between keeping Virgil and myself healthy. I see a bit of Hilarity in continuing existence. And then there’s my hor… me being “amorous,” always. But happiness? It’s like a mirage, always just out of reach. People keep asking me for happy… anything, and I wish I could give it to them.

Sophia, I continued reading Michael Dalton’s novel this morning, and a particular quote hit me: “I’m happy if you’re happy.” Since everything leads back to my son Braxton, I ask…

B III, are you happy?

I remember so much about Braxton. I can still feel the warmth of Braxton’s last day on this Earth. I sat at the vet’s office, saw the look in B’s eyes, and heard what he was trying to say in his last moments. His thoughts still echo in my mind:

“Daddy, can’t we go home? I’m ok. I promise. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Now Virgil is not happy.

Ok, sticking with Michael Dalton’s work, I’ll give you a few more choice words, Sophia: “If I have to live with it, then I will.” I should have made that into a rule, Lady Sophia.

That’s Virgil and I’s relationship. What is love? Love and Happiness. I told Braxton yesterday that the vet said that Virgil will live. But liking him? Virgil and his happiness.

Sophia, that’s what makes me a bad person. I don’t even try to read on the couch with him anymore. And yes, I’d include having problems with DISH Network, Sophia.

Honestly, my father isn’t too happy with me. But do you think I’m going to call him again today? I can’t find happiness inside me—only fear and book reviews…

9 Matches For Backyard Dungeon:

Well, Eddie is approaching seven wives. But with all the potential matches and hookups. I’ll give this 9th book in the series 4 Stars again. It’s great fun between the fighting, flushing out of the world, and again with all the romantic partners; there is plenty of… Uh, ahem, frolicking. I know I’ve said that before. Only with this title, my favorite part was Eddie playing matchmaker. He’s got babies, business, and he’s a bro. A particular type of bro, for sure. So, I tend to keep Logan Jacob’s books to myself. But to a specific clientele. Eddie Hill’s great.

What about my books or anything I would like to read? It won’t be happy, but… Happy To B Virgil

1202 Days Without B III, Day 643 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 320 ~What’s After B, Virgil~

After B, I didn’t want a “later on.” Time stopped. So I depend on clocks a lot now. And when I sleep, besides my boy and the books I’m reading, I “think” of breathing, and I wish… But I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed. “What’s After B, Virgil”

Thursday, May 16, 2024

Tale 320 ~What’s After B, Virgil~

1201 Days Without B III, Day 642 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Me? I’m awake and alive, so like I tell everyone else. “I’m here.” I wish…

Well, I can’t tell you what I wish anymore. At least not here. But you know it involves seeing you again. And how might I accomplish that? I could talk to my Old Man today.

He’s threatened me plenty over the years. And I’m nearing forty. That’s far too old.

Speaking of age, how about Virgil? I took him to the veterinarian yesterday. He’ll live.

I wasn’t sure I was going to. Every time I take that path up to the counter. I can’t breathe.
But again, nearing forty, I could also have a heart attack… And with the price of so many tests, shots, and even a single dose of medicine. You should have seen the vet’s face, B.

Keeping Virgil on a regimen.

Starvation is a possibility, with Virgil’s bill approaching three hundred. Didn’t I give the Old Man two hundred the other day? Then there’s five hundred dollars. And just like that, Braxton, I’m not hungry anymore. If anything, I’m feeling sick. I know that’s not funny.

But I would rather deal with the “ghost,” you, than the monsters around me. As I hide in bed like a child. Even Virgil wanted me to be on the bed again. I’m sure his life flashed before his eyes when the vet checked him out. But I’m no closer to seeing a doctor. There was the optometrist, and neither he nor THEY remember seeing me a few months back. I’m cracking jokes. What should I do, Braxton? Besides FEAR…

Come home to you? If I call my Old Man today, I’ll be going somewhere. But it won’t be Heaven and The Rainbow Bridge. And with as much “faith” as I have that you could take over for Cerberus, I wouldn’t want you “down below.” That’s me every day, Braxton.

While I was reading this morning. You know, about Bikini Nights and not furry memorials, I had a thought. Early into my grieving, I spoke about the five stages of grief. But maybe I’m doing the nine circles of Hell, or at least the seven deadly sins. If combined, it would be Bargaining and Greed. Because everything comes back to making deals and making money. Me, being a better person? Nah! What’s After B, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

1200 days ago, I lost my son. Now I long to see him so I don’t have to talk to my father. I always yearn to see my son again, regardless. When I’m being blamed for stuff at the Day Job. For DISH Network. Or daring to breathe. Ha. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton’s gone. I’ll soon be FORTY with nothing to show for it. And then there’s waking up today.

Do you know why I’m not religious? I don’t like waking up guilty. Inspector, I can take the fall for plenty. But these crimes I have nothing to do with are the ones getting me.

Every day, Inspector, I sit here and tell you that Braxton is no more. I was callous towards his needs, and one day, instead of bringing him back with me, I signed his life away. The decision of what ‘pretty box’ to put him in is my sin, my lady.

And then I look at Virgil. I don’t even know where to start there. But he has to visit with the veterinarian today. Only I can’t focus on him. And it’s not indifference this time.

Anxiety? No, Inspector. It’s FEAR!!!

Do, DISH!!! It will not be much longer if I call my father again today. My son, my Braxton, is a miracle—a prince, an angel, or even a god. I’ve said before, I don’t blame him for leaving me.

Only to my father, I am a mistake he keeps having to pay for. One of these days—it could be today—he won’t pay anymore. And then what happens? Breathing or simply being born.

That’s what had me up most of the night. Once upon a time, I stayed up all night to keep my son with me. And now I stay up, wishing to follow him and escape my father’s wrath. Braxton and I were two of a kind. Wanting to stay in bed, mouths shut. Survival? Existence?

Because I can’t even do that and not be guilty of some sin. I even got an email from a place I hadn’t visited in a year. They said they could overlook one of my past discretions, Inspector. Uh, thanks, but no. I’m a sinner. I’ve never denied it. It’s why we’re here. Isn’t it?

Braxton knows that. His adopted Aunt knows and doesn’t care. Virgil? Sigh. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s fearful of me, and I’m fearful of everything else. We’re guilty, men.

Only we stay in our beds, dreaming our crimes. Then we wake up in the “Underworld,” wondering why. Tell ’em that it’s Human Nature. I’m not looked at that way.

Criminal is my name. Guilt is my native tongue. The Devil… “Lucifer!” I hear all the women cry from Eric Vall’s novels. Anyway. Lucifer makes himself sound way better, being a man of wealth and taste. And even Braxton could be a Smooth Criminal. Only I’m the one dealing with the guilt. And what is my punishment, Inspector Echo? Breathe in, breathe out. Now, do it again. That explains why I no longer do those meditations on the Balance App. Besides not paying for it. Thievery, Inspector? Not for “self-improvement.”

I am guilty of far more… But today, it’s breathing, Virgil’s vet appointment, and DISH Network. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

1200 Days Without B III, Day 641 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 318 ~Virgil’s Drowning Risk B~

My fears? Braxton’s passing, which I survived… My Olds who are very much alive, and neither one has put me in the ground yet. Then drowning. I even turned off Far Cry 5 when I saw that happening. But Virgil is off and crying? Virgil’s Drowning Risk B

Tuesday, May 14, 2024

Tale 318 ~Virgil’s Drowning Risk B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Enough to keep your head above water. Or do I lay my coat over puddles at your feet, my love?

Do I want to be a gentleman today? As with most days—well, let’s say 1199 of them—I want to be a man. I won’t say a happy man, but a man provides. And I’m trying. I always am.

But, my Braxton is gone.

Again, I’m trying to keep Virgil from the same fate. For as long as I can. He has a veterinary appointment tomorrow, so AHEM:

“Shots,
shots,
shots,
shots,
shots,
shots!”

Not a day goes by that I don’t remember the last two that B took. Or was it three? Hmm.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame.” I did that to my furry son. And now to my lovely wife? You’re still here, but Braxton isn’t. What about me?

I’m keeping my head above water. But nobody likes seeing that. So I’m lying here. Waking up, I gasp for air with an expletive upon my lips. No wonder Virgil stays off the bed. And our other children? If I can go through the day without mentioning Braxton. Or saying anything scandalous or scary or that makes someone else sad. Not even now, love. As I can exist… without happiness. I can’t without sadness or FEAR. It won’t go away.

If I am going to wake up wet, with bad words, and wanting another baby. I’d rather be with you, yeah. You keep drowning me in your love. Are you crying from all the laughter, pleasure from… or relief from me not talking about Braxton?

Sigh. Even a sigh means that I’m still breathing. I’m alive. Only the flooding never stops, my love. It’s been raining for so long. And I’m sure even Braxton’s Aunt has grown sick of me. She said she would bring a boat if we ever had another situation like Noah and God’s Wrath, as read in the Bible. But both she and you never knew it would be B III’s passing that would bring this.

I understand what you’re asking of me. I’m a drowning man pulling you under. You’re asking me, when will I grow. Life gave me lemons; I can’t make it lemonade. And I’ll make apple juice because I need to see a doctor. And no man is an island. Water, water, everywhere. Virgil’s Drowning Risk B

1199 Days Without B III, Day 640 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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