Tag: Daddy

Meditation 166 ~Braxton And Virgil Happily~

WillLeave a comment

Everyone was supposed to be happy in the book “Brave New World.” And nobody is in 1984. Hell! I haven’t even opened the book, but I remember the words, “We are the dead.” No, that would be my son. And V has no balls. Still, Braxton And Virgil Happily

Saturday, December 14, 2024

Meditation 166 ~Braxton And Virgil Happily~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Would it make me happy if it were true? I don’t remember when I gave up….

The Dream: Happily Ever After

If it didn’t insult my son’s memory, I would ask for INDIFFERENCE. How Braxton Ended… It was INDIFFERENCE that took my son from me. I didn’t want to feel anything.

Because all I had during the last week of his life was anger, humiliation, and worry. And in trying to protect him, I ignored him, and then… Don’t I sound like I’ve been reading another tome on Pet Loss. Cherry and I had a brief conversation on book counts. I would rather be discussing body counts. Counting her as one of mine, but I digress. And also, can I stop being a creep. Anyway… I’ve read about eight books on Pet Loss, Dear Lady Lunalesca.

Were people happy or accepting?

This is one more year I’ve been neither. I won’t accept it. Hell! I gave up Madam Justice to allow my son to speak through me in the FIRSTBORN series. Or so I hope… Do you remember the tale, Down a Dark Hall by Lois Duncan? Something like that, Lunalesca.

And again, the word, happy. Like Love and Happiness. It’s like using the n-word in a song. It may sound good, but you know it’s wrong in the end. So am I saying music doesn’t make me happy? It makes me feel. And the problem is what I’ve been feeling.

Lady Lunalesca, at the moment, I’ve been feeling pain and tired despite pills and energy shots. And there’s my ear, too. I swear, Lady Lunalesca.

Despite all that, I Have A Dream. Less Dr. King, more Bing Madsen. The critic has been talking about my use of Pop Culture. And I am a Pop Culture Wh-re. Anyway, speaking of Bing, I mean when he was head over heels in love with Abi. My dream last night was all about Amy Jo Johnson, aka Kimberly. And my dreams before were all about Disney Princesses. Didn’t the princesses all get their Happily Ever Afters? But Kimberly didn’t.

I mean, not with Tommy. I’m always trying to make sense of my dreams. And here I go, reading another story about a young woman who’s no Disney princess. First, Lenina and now Julia. The future sucks. But leaving my boys Braxton And Virgil Happily…

1413 Days Without B III, Day 854 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

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Global Warming, Climate Change… I haven’t worn a coat because I’m always angry at people. Or I’m humiliated. I should erase my browser history, etc.… I’m always taking the heat. And with what happened to my son. Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

Thursday, December 12, 2024

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

1411 Days Without B III, Day 852 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How many days did I come back burning up? Angry? Humiliated? Sick? Far too many…

And today? Well, your Dad’s no chef. I’m still burning money, paper, and sheets, Braxton.

I hope you weren’t watching that. And what about Virgil? He’s trying to get warm. All by his lonesome. And I’m crying, so I best not go outside lest my tears freeze. It’d be practice.

Do you know which is the coldest Circle in Hell? The Ninth Circle. That’s Treachery. Again, my boy, anytime I’m having a hard time, I remember what I have survived… I lost you, Braxton. It makes everything else pale in comparison. So because the Day Job burned me up, I could go for some tears. But what brought them on. A Dog’s Purpose, B III. Braxton, I’m not reading it… Again, I mean. Or watching.

At least if you were here, I wouldn’t feel as bad about burning daylight. Wasting my time. It’s so much better writing a novel about four individuals trying to set the world on fire. That’s one thing about never getting published. I won’t allow someone to burn my book. I should be so lucky. To earn a paycheck for doing something that I… Love, Braxton.

That’s one more thing that burns me up. My jealousy while watching all these dog channels. And watching these families become rich and famous. I hid you from the world.

However, I take a picture of Virgil every day. He feels the sunshine, sleeps in soft sheets, and stays warm… for now. Yet he wonders why I’m always so cold.

When I’m getting hot over every woman who’s not even close to being your stepmother. When I’m stewing over every mistake. When I know I’m cooked. And I can’t do anything to save myself or Virgil. I told myself at the Day Job that I thought your purpose was to get me into Heaven. If God smiled down on me for anything, it would be because I was your Daddy. Heaven’s Light in comparison to Hellfire. Yet, Virgil’s thriving, somehow.

He has to guide me through the Inferno. But where am I now? In some story awaiting the fire? Melting away on the floor? Sweating over some girl’s picture? Daylight is a wastin’ Braxton. And when the sun rises once more… Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 163 ~Braxton’s No Chef Virgil~

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I’ve led Virgil to food and water, but he’s not sick… Um, maybe in the head because he wants to eat on a pillow. And where do I take my meals? In bed? But the last good one was on the couch eating Chinese with Braxton’s Aunt. Braxton’s No Chef Virgil

Wednesday, December 11, 2024

Meditation 163 ~Braxton’s No Chef Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… I am currently starring in Mommie Dearest or Daddy Dude. Not that I’ve published a book, Inspector Echo.

I’m writing again on a drizzly Monday afternoon from bed. I can’t afford laziness.

The Day Job is calling this week. Aren’t I blessed? Shouldn’t I show some GRATITUDE?

When was it again that those two young brothers got fired? A week or so ago. How could I forget? I’ll tell you how. I’m reeling over the five dollars I paid on Onlyfans. Wasted!

Inspector Echo, I have to say so. Considering that I’ve now failed five out of six Impossible Things. And yes, it’s only Monday, December 9, 2024. Um, Brave New World?

I’m still reading Aldous Huxley’s novel. If memory serves, SPOILER ALERT: we’re getting to that part where Bernard Marx introduces John to his father. It saves Bernard from the DHC.

Yes, Inspector, I’ve read the story before. When my father turned me on to Animal Farm and 1984. And I wish I could say that I’m spending all my cash on books and that’s why…

GASP! I’m not eating. Feed your head, as the song goes. And before “your” madness… I’ve got around five thousand in the bank. I got another grand over PayPal way…

President EWW Donald Trump won’t be helping me. But let’s talk about here and now. As always, I want my son back. Money won’t bring Braxton back from the dead. I’d like a medium-rare steak for dinner tonight. But Hank Hill don’t pay my bills, Inspector. I want Satan’s Sorority Girls 8. But what’s most important. Virgil is not eating!

I’ve been here before, haven’t I? Inspector, if I went to Braxton’s Room/My Library/Virgil’s Room and pushed his pillow in front of the food and water… Yes, Virgil would eat. And I don’t know why. But I refuse. Virgil’s been in the room all day, Inspector.

Several times, I have guided him to the bowls, and what’s that saying… You can lead a horse to water or a dog. Do I need to be paying his vet bills when, again, I have nothing but a boy with a full bowl while I subsist on sixty-second pasta and shredded chicken for fajitas?

Virgil will eat his treats, and I swear Braxton was spoiled until the very end. What will it take, Daddy Dude? Braxton’s No Chef Virgil

“You pays your money and you takes your choice” ― Brave New World, Aldous Huxley

1410 Days Without B III, Day 851 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 162 ~Virgil On B’s Downgrade~

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I hope he, she, or they are not like me; I hope they understand. Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. A man raises his wife and children higher than himself. It worked for B. He got sent to Heaven. Uh, low. But myself. “Virgil On B’s Downgrade”

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Meditation 162 ~Virgil On B’s Downgrade~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Above myself? Of course. But my love is like hope. I keep none for myself.

Uh, you married a geek. I can only tell you a little about Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, etc. But nevertheless, a geek. I read, and I know things. Game Of Thrones? With all my time off, not counting when you’re reading this, you would think I would catch up with some pop culture. Wrestling, Wickedness, the Wh***dom of my novel. I’m powering down.

Today is Thursday, December 6, 2024. And I am a shell of my former self. Please, haven’t I been this way since I lost my boy, my Braxton? And what about Virgil? He’s so bored.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’m a downgrade from who had Virgil first. Who loved him first? He’s got comfy spots and cool water. So Cheers!

But not for me. Every day, it’s like I have to make myself so much worse. What so you’ll leave. No! Never! Ever! And if losing my firstborn didn’t do that… I still mourn him.

Existence has been forever and always downgraded without Braxton. But it could be worse. I could be Ted Mosby, forever pining away for another woman while I have our family. If a man finds an angel… And I have you, my love. His duty, honor, and privilege is to build her a Heaven. And if a man touches the sky… That’s where Heaven is? Hmm.

A man and woman must show their children the stars. The twinkle in father’s eye.

Seriously? Am I trying to be a somewhat decent writer?

I’d settle for being a decent father and friend and not too effing shabby in the sack as a husband, my love. And that’s the problem. It feels wrong to desire more but then to live with desiring less or not at all. There’s being indifferent. At the same time, if I choose what I want, what does it make me? The guy that let the vet euthanize Braxton. Love?

You know what I wanted to say. What’s a word for censorship, sadness, and disgust all rolled into one? And let’s not forget depravity. Is that why I want to do specific things with you in bed? Because I’m not worthy of an angel. Or a friend like Braxton. But fatherhood? Virgil On B’s Downgrade

1409 Days Without B III, Day 850 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

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I don’t know the last song B III heard on his last ride. I didn’t sing him to sleep as he lay on the vet’s table. 70 days later, I almost punched out my boss as I listened to B III’s playlist on Spotify. 2021 Wrapped to 2024’s Uh… Dad And B Spotified

Monday, December 9, 2024

Meditation 161 ~Dad And B Spotified~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And are you past Tupac yet? Your past before me. But a future without me. But again, I am…

Here, Happy, and saying Hello. Not from a place of Doublethink, a Brave New World. And don’t say It Can’t Happen Here. There’s a reason, Dad, we speak through music. And not books. However, there is a line that comes to mind from time to time. But you would read, and I would sleep. That’s a dream you still have. That you’ll read to my siblings someday. But until then, I’ll keep saying it. I’m right here, Dad, right beside you. My presence is a constant in your life. Though I would prefer it if I were lying under that table as you worked. That’s back to normal. It is…

Not ACCEPTANCE? Again, Dad, we don’t do books. And all those books you’ve read about me, without me, all say the same thing. Kate McGahan…

Leave it to a grieving mother to show my Dad the way. But even before you started writing out my story. Then, we wrote the story together. There was silence, not peace but quiet. My transition. When today shouldn’t exist and tomorrow would never arrive. The time with me and without. Dad, to simply be. It was the second longest time we had ever been apart. But I will never forget when you’d hold me, those shared moments that we both cherish. Always and forever.

Daddy, you would sing to me. Sometimes, you’d change the words, but it was always about us. And that is how I knew how to reach you. There have been other ways. But like a Bumblebee, I’d buzz through your ear. That wasn’t a nickname…

Also, our song didn’t make it to our Spotify list. When you aren’t dreaming about dead men or fathers like you were last night. You’re dreaming about my future stepmom.

Well, no. Not any Yabbos, but there were two women in particular. Cherry and Csapunch.

Dad, I swear you have a type when it comes to women. But when it comes to music, my father. There is so much I want to say to you. And this year, indeed, this very moment in both our lives. Let me say that again. Our lives because I’m still alive. These words. Proof.

The click-clack of my paws on the floor, or your fingers on the keyboard, and communicating with Virgil. Our songs, Daddy. Dad And B Spotified

1408 Days Without B III, Day 849 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 160 ~A Break Braxton, Virgil…~

WillLeave a comment

Ending is better than mending… Guess what I’ve been reading. Braxton wasn’t something; he was someone. Like Virgil? And he couldn’t be fixed. Virgil was “broken” in a way. And myself. My bank account. And I’m taking breaks. “A Break Braxton, Virgil…”

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Meditation 160 ~A Break Braxton, Virgil…~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And do you think you should clean it? One more thing for the to-do list. Another list…

Like another puppy? How is that working out for you? Like father, like son. Someone. Because Virgil ain’t Braxton. Oh! Why so mean this morning? It’s not like Brave New World isn’t crammed with bullies. But aren’t I a bully? Thou art a villain. But the week has only just begun, and the first question that came to mind was, Are You Happy Now? Seriously?

The last thing you need is to start fawning over one more dark-haired girl. Acting like your Stuff & Thang ain’t never seen a woman. What must Braxton’s Aunt think of you when you sent her the first three chapters of Nightmare At The Meat Market. M Anime liked the title. But what I don’t like? Failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING The Heartache of Pet Loss
    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 036, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 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

At least I’m back to finishing books. And you’ve finally started your end of the world, dystopia, and evil government arc. It’s like you’re living in your own literary world, right? Well, come January with Trump. Define interesting… Oh, God, oh, god, we’re all gonna die. Making the list: Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, and It Can’t Happen Here.

Amazon still thinks you’re breaking tradition by suggesting several Christmas “Romances” and books about broken hearts over pet loss. B needed a break from you.

Inevitably, everyone does. Why look into a dog’s eyes when you can stare at Yabbos?

Before the phone “broke…” ran out of juice, whatever you saw, a yearly recap that was all Virgil’s eyes and several pairs of Yabbos. Even a video that Cherry wouldn’t appreciate… While you’re doing that, there are Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
  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 001, 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

And you can’t seem to Break On Through To The Other Side. I broke that coffee mug yesterday. It was your phone today. And your bank account… check the refrigerator.

Hell! What about your body? Winston Smith didn’t have Soma. You have a bottle full of painkillers. If you want any advice from me… All you need is one unless you plan on joining B. And that boy deserves his retirement. As if he did. B is better than Spotify.

But what does Virgil do? Well, if you gave him a chance… Now that should go on Six Impossible Things. Only the list isn’t broken. It’s you, hi, you’re the problem, it’s you. A broken thing. Braxton tried. But you’re liberal. A Break Braxton, Virgil…

1407 Days Without B III, Day 848 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 159 ~Braxton Is History Virgil~

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I’ve been watching 1984 Lore and reading Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Amazon is telling me it’s my history to read Christmas Erotica. Did you see our next president? Braxton isn’t here to help me survive this next term. Braxton Is History Virgil.

Saturday, December 7, 2024

Meditation 159 ~Braxton Is History Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Does that mean I’m becoming more like MAGA? When I’m down, I think of my Braxton.

I’ve had my share of struggles, including moments of self-harm, largely influenced by my father. But the most intense period of me existing was when Braxton ‘passed away.’ The desire to leave because of my father was in stark contrast to the need to stay for my son. It’s ironic.

Stupidity? At the end of the day, I’m better than MAGA. Do you know why? I know my history. And yes, sometimes it sucked. Some parts make me sick. And yes, sometimes I was the skeevy one… Do you remember why I even started this blog? To share? My madness…

Lunalesca, if I recall, I was mad at some skinny brunette or trying to get her pants, whatever. It’s history. And that’s what I’ve been doing lately, studying history. Before…

The United States of America is history. Yes, I know what today is, Pearl Harbor. But more to the point, I’ve been reviewing the book, 1984. My father got me to read that, Lady Lu.

So it wasn’t all bad? The past. You wouldn’t know that from history. We’re not allowed to celebrate the triumphs that came from the tragedies. It’s like everything was perfect as long as a group of people lived in perpetual turmoil and terror of another group of people, Lunalesca. And it’s like one of my history teachers would spout relentlessly:

“History is Written by the Victors.” ― Winston Churchill? Unknown

And I always wanted to say history is written by the survivors, the breathing Lunalesca. Somehow. Someway, the truth would get out. And now I see it torn apart, Lunalesca.

History is written by the sword. It’s just another way of saying by the victor. And maybe that’s what my dream meant last night. I saw Zorro fighting Captain Love. But I couldn’t see their swords. They went back and forth, swinging their hands to and fro. But for not.

So what was the dream telling me? It was set in the past, and there was no way to move on to the future except to run the enemy through. Run away, escape. Or run into the enemy, and then what? End up with my hand in a jar. My head in another. Being history.

Only after I tell Braxton’s story. Braxton passed. Virgil’s present. And my future… I’m the victor. Braxton Is History Virgil

1406 Days Without B III, Day 847 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

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How can one be so unfortunate? The death of a child. Wow! That’s dark. And Braxton was grown… in dog years. But I’m forty, scared to death (I wish) that my father is going to beat my ass for failing math. Am I out of bucks? B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil

Thursday, December 5, 2024

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

1404 Days Without B III, Day 845 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Judging by how late I am today… Even on a relatively good day. Three hours?

Only if I had used those hours on… I don’t know. One of “my” novels that doesn’t offend everyone. Or doing something on camera that offends everyone, and I hope you didn’t see. Yeah. And I could have stuck around at the Day Job to make more money. Virgil, B.

He’s not going to save himself. But then again, I couldn’t save you either. And most days, I don’t even want to save myself. For what? The highlights of my day were only having three hours at the Day Job. There was the McRib sandwich. And that was only because I couldn’t afford a Big Mac Meal. And then there was the nap I took that brings us to now.

How long is a nap?

Well, you’ve gone for The Big Sleep, took The Long Walk, went on The Last Ride. And as usual, I wish I could be right there with you. What? Did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed? It’s the fact that I woke up yet again. Unfortunate, isn’t it Braxton for Virgil?

Positivity. That Braxton, I leave to you. At present, I feel like that D student I was in summer school, knowing that it was enough to not have your grandpa beating my behind yet again. At worst, I’m Winston Smith from 1984, facing the mirror and being told I’m the last man. But as always, I remain your daddy. So how dare I dream of harming myself, hatred, and horniness…

That reminds me of when I was coming back. I was listening to my Spotify Wrapped 2024. And of all the songs that made this list, this is how I know you’re talking to me, B. Suddenly, I thought about It’s My Turn To Fly by The Urge. And call it coincidence (the urge). Ha-ha, I hear that song, Fat Bottomed Girls. I’m more for Yabbos… But Baby Got Back

It’s my turn to fly
I’m proving ground tonight
Try to be the best that I can
Grown to be a man
Only human can understand
I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!
It’s My Turn To Fly

Hey, listen here
Now, I got mortgages on homes
I got stiffness in my bones
Ain’t no beauty queens in this locality, I tell you
Oh, but I still get my pleasure
Still got my greatest treasure
Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me
Now get this
Fat Bottomed Girls, Queen

Anyway, my point is I need a reason to… exist. And again, getting up on the wrong side of the bed. On one side, there’s your grave, B. On the other, the business of existence.

Braxton, I’d have more bucks, babes, and beds if only I had done better. And you… B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Livin’ on the Edge, Livin’ on a Prayer, living for the love of you. I feel like I’m toppling over. “NaNoWriMo” ended, and I barely won that. Everything feels like it’s overflowing. And all that edging before breaking on the 1st. “Let’s B Edgy Virgil”

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What else is new? Um, pushing Virgil to the edge of the bed. That’s the big one. Right?

Considering how cold it’s been. Then, one of the neighbor’s kids said they were worried about Virgil. And did I forget to buy another dose of medication? Uh, the money…

That was never a question when Braxton was around. I still remember when Braxton got sick. And the one vet at Banfield I openly “disliked” saved him. And the way the guy looked at me… When I tried to take my own life by starvation and dehydration, my Old Man didn’t want to pay my medical bills either. But Braxton is innocent. So is Virgil.

And while I wouldn’t give Virgil up for anything, the thought of what if I had left him on the other side of that fence? The edge of freedom or what, Inspector Echo? It’s a fear that haunts me now.

When Virgil has tried to cuddle these past few mornings, I’ve pushed him away. Really! I’ve gone so far as to move a pillow between him and me as I read or waste time, Inspector.

Virgil hasn’t fallen. And the drop wouldn’t hurt him. Contrary to popular belief. Virgil runs around here. He jumps up and down. V can climb stairs. He barks, cries, dreams…

Probably about someone much better than me. I know. I wish I had fallen into a grave when my feet hit the floor. Didn’t I talk about having a dream about dead men last week? Maybe. All I know is today, I woke up to the sound of Johnny Cash’s Ain’t No Grave. My Braxton.

What you needed to hear…

“Do you wish to be the son who gives his father what he asks for or what he needs?” Legion

When did I get all religious? It’s that time of the year. Or am I upset that some blonde temptress broke me the day after No Nut November? Inspector, I’ve gone from nurses to dancers and gymnasts. I gave $10.00 to a “secretary” on Onlyfans. And now nuns and angels. Talk about being on the edge. Or flashing my “package,” and why. The edge, huh.

Willy’s Wanton Writings And Whacking

Madness. I’m on the edge of finishing “my” novel. I give myself far too much credit with NaNoWriMo being over. But I won for the first time in years. I’m on the edge of finishing another book. I’m upset that I’ve broken my Christmas tradition. You see today’s date, Echo. I’m existing on the edge. Still, Let’s B Edgy Virgil.

1403 Days Without B III, Day 844 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 155 ~To B Humiliated, Virgil~

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During NaNoWriMo, was I ashamed of what I was writing? And now I’m embarrassed that these hands aren’t given the keys to the Day Job when I’ve been there over a decade and my “boss” has been there, um, two years… Oh, To B Humiliated, Virgil

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

Meditation 155 ~To B Humiliated, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But as much as I love my firstborn son? Or how about RELATIONS? Yet Humiliation…

No love, I’m not talking about my being humiliated, “doing the deed.” Don’t get me wrong. I’m into some worrisome, wicked, and WTF kinks and fetishes in the throes of passion. Spanking? Yeah, I have issues. But I’m not talking about any of those. Later…

Dearest, today I’m talking about people. My Dad, ha-ha. My father. Memories of my old Day Job. And the people I meet daily. If I wanted any early Christmas present besides getting my dog/son back. Or the almighty dollar. The destruction of MAGA. Starting with its leader, Donald Trump. I would decide never to be humiliated ever again. Why don’t I try not to wake up in the morning? Today was one of those days, my love. More Humiliations Galore!

It’s why I tend to surround myself with so many beautiful things. Choosing not to be humiliated is like choosing not to breathe. It’s a nice thought, but don’t give me hope that it won’t happen again. I’m already tearing up. But I’m not ashamed to cry. Not for B…

And then play the song “He’s My Son.” Niagara Falls, baby doll. I’m not ashamed that I love Braxton more than my life. Hell! I’m still reading “The Heartache of Pet Loss: Losing Your Best Friend.” And if I ever in a million years would say that what I did was the right thing. It would be purely on the grounds that he didn’t have me shame him. Poor boy.

There was this movie, love…

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
Love Story

Love means never having to be ashamed of being who you are. And I don’t love who I am. And so here I am, embarrassed. But who am I to you? Husband, Hero, a hell-bound best friend. How about a humiliated human being? I’ve been watching a few things all about men who would be heroes if just for one day. Only to end up as influencers, showing what not to do. Crucified. Or locked in the Ministry of Love. Um, 2023’s Share, The Book of Clarence, and 1984. I’m not ashamed to admit wanting Suzanna Hamilton, aka Julia. But to live ashamed of keys, knowledge, and keeping my cowardice. Oh, To B Humiliated, Virgil.

1402 Days Without B III, Day 843 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will