Tag: Dead

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

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I could talk to my kid about anything. Once I had to give him “the talk” because, let’s say, he liked his aunt more than I did for a bit. But how do you tell them you’re angry, an artist, or an addict. Because my misery has no company. No B In Misery

Thursday, July 21, 2022

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

536 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As you can see I’m late. But at least I’m not spending today in bed.

For a moment there, I planned on it. Addicted to the misery? Your fault and then not as I’ve been talking to you about the last few days. You know how late I was getting to bed last night. Not that late. It was 1 AM went I cut off the lights. Writing books Braxton. Today I need to keep it going. Only every time I look at it as the song goes, “You make me wanna die.” I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. And then again, not. When I look at our book, there are a few times I want to burst into tears. It’s no damn good. Or I have to remember how it all happened. Wasting time.

Oh yes, I wasted time. Just this morning, a fucked up phone is a plethora of “sin.” You know the girl I once talked to before I started conversing with you, B III? Or should I tell Inspector Echo about how disappointing my morning became? And it goes like this. Haley Pullos, Eri Harada “Bible Black,” Nuns in Hentai, other assorted brunettes, Cherry. And finally, a blonde in a bikini. You had it so damn easy, B III. You had two toys and your aunt’s boobs. You’re a guy, and so am I, but I am also your father. I have to be better, B. Remember, I never thought about having you neutered, but with my addiction to well myself. Dennis Hof, Jacob Ralston, Blackout…

I wish you were here to speak to directly, Triple B. Hell! That would take care of the misery I’m feeling. And, I wouldn’t be a crazy man talking to myself this many days. Always. Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan is all about women and one’s alcohol addiction. So. Yeah, I hear you, B. That’s a conversation for Lady Sophia. Why am I having such trouble talking with you today? Because I have to this afternoon, I know to stay ahead writing-wise. My point is I’m trying to find anything, everything, to avoid my biggest addiction. That should have been you, my priority. But excuses for not writing, sex, audiobooks, making me sad. Addictions to escape you, B? Because there’s No B In Misery

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 016 ~Today B The Day~

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4600 words today. Well, 2300 for me, and then I’ll let B III talk. Only he has paws. So as I told him that Sunday in January a year ago. “I’ll help you,” and look how great that turned out. For his life, Camp NaNoWriMo, my existence? Today B The Day.

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Saga 016 ~Today B The Day~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t think you can expect anything… special, sexy, or super. God’s day? No, the Dog.

Of course, B III was never, just a dog. And that’s what you want everyone to know someday. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… But let me tell you something about today. I did not work my ass off all week for you to fuck up. Inevitably. Today’s the day. The day was 532 days ago, Sunday, January 31, 2021. How to save a life, my son B III ha. No, the day was Sunday, January 24, 2021. It was B III’s last week. As I hated the Day Job. I could go further than that. How many books have I “written,” and they sit here doing nothing like you want to do? Well, you didn’t fall back asleep. You won’t, right? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Blackout: A Thriller (Possibly…)
    Failed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

And yes, I failed every single one to get you here? One more reason you hate Sundays, right? An excellent chance to say, “Oh, I’ve Wasted My Life.” Um, mine for the week, you see. In a week, you’ll be saying the same thing. If writing has been of any use at all? It hasn’t. You will also return to the part of the story where you also wasted B III’s life. So ok, here we go. Fact! If you can write 5000 words… um 4600, You will be on your way. As the kids say, “FTW.” It doesn’t mean anything, really. Trying hard to avoid a Doctor’s visit. Ironic. That was my promise. But you’re, as I said. You are going to fuck it up wanting to, um, ok. What’s the word? FUCK! To be on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Blackout: A Thriller, Erin Flanagan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Staying Ahead Of Camp NaNoWriMo
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

So I’m “Beggin” you not to. And I don’t know why it’s even so important. Something I thought of Braxton while I cursed my Day Job. Every day should be the day to love him. Yet if you’re going to catch up with writing, with my work, and the word of God, that was Triple B. You know what you need to do. Treat today like the day he died. And write like every word is buying him a minute. Did they ever? As much as you want to believe another book… Remember, “My Turn To B III” would bring him back to life. If ever? Today B The Day.

532 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 015 ~To B Failing, Flying…~

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Icarus failed at flying. He did for a bit, but he was warned. The only thing getting high this week was my word counts Wed-Fri. And already, the words I’ve written down fall short. Well, today I’ll crash. But oh no, I have to get up. To B Failing, Flying…

Saturday, July 16, 2022

Saga 015 ~To B Failing, Flying…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And except for my son B III, I’m willing to sacrifice anything. AHEM, sleep, sex, skeeviness…

This week has been all about B and my novel. At this rate, wherever he is, he must feel like Philip Pullman when they made The Golden Compass film. Cut my check and leave me alone. And how did that movie do against Twilight, Harry Potter, and The Hunger Games? I even when so far in the novel to talk about Whitney Houston? You know when she sings, “For every win, someone must fail.” And that is what I’ve been doing for three days straight in the guise of winning. Hmm! 5000 words daily, that amount to nothing for Braxton. At least it isn’t Whitney Wright… Sigh, as much as I like her. I’ve been edging to everything under the sun and moon while writing.

Today I’m going to fail. Hell! I would have fallen back asleep if it weren’t for what I was doing. That’s how much I was up last night. In more ways than one… But again, I did get all the words I needed. I’m on the cusp of catching up, Luna. Camp NaNoWriMo. And who would care if I didn’t show up at Petsmart? What if I decided not to go through my Saturday Routine? I have all my excuses lined up. Tuesday, I was trying to be a proper American citizen. Speaking of which, I should get outside before there isn’t much of an America left. I’m not an evangelical white guy, but I have all the makings of a Republican lawmaker, Lady Lunalesca.

First and foremost, it always comes back to Braxton. I promised him a future, a family, and that I would be a good father. Every day I wake up and ask the question. Where’s Fluffy? Did I make a “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist” joke, reference, whatever? That’s another thing. I’m always one for a good distraction. If she’s a hot brunette with nice yabbos. This then brings up how I talk about my respect for women… especially in pornography. Then you hear how I have been talking to two of my friends. Yesterday evening… Lunalesca, I could have been reading a book. But I won’t finish it this Saturday. So with my Six Impossible Things: You know the answer of To B Flailing, Flying…

531 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

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The book is better than the movie… I read The Hunger Games because of the film. I liked the movie Nerve more than the book. And I love my boy more than writing about him. Might life be better? If I finish Camp NaNoWriMo. Book Better B Better

Friday, July 15, 2022

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And while I’m speaking that blasphemy, sometimes the books aren’t better. Or at least my books.

The one I’m writing for/with my son. I’m surprised I’m keeping up with it this week, except for Tuesday and “watching” The January 6th Hearings. But I still reached the quota. But every day, the story gets worse and worse, as Braxton’s health did. Yeah, something could be better. B III could be alive and well; I could have been a better parent. Even that would have required me to be a better writer and tell a story. I don’t know how I’ll get through it today with the time it took Thursday. How tired am I? Don’t answer that. And could I stop looking at ta-tas? Would I imagine staying up all night watching B die? Had I known how to save a life?

Speaking of nightmares, I had one last night, which explains my tiredness though it didn’t wake me up. How can something both be graphic and then not? Bloodless yet terrifying. Slimy yet satisfying, Hakuna some Tatas and what else will I beg, borrow, steal writing. I’ve never read The Walking Dead or The Man in the High Castle. But the nightmare was sort of a mixture of both. “Fight the Dead, Fear the Living.” Watched a throat getting slashed in the woods. But again, there was no blood which somehow made it digestible. And then I took care of a boy as we hid out with the “BCR” Black Communist Rebellion. Oh, now I know I’m on some government list. Another excuse to quit writing…

And now I sound like Cherry. But no Lady Sophia. Dare I say I’m getting close to catching up with Camp NaNoWriMo. I’m going all in with my writing. And with the Day Job pay? Anyway, I might not even finish “Blackout: A Thriller” this week because I was so “invested” in my writing. I swear if Kindle fucks me again with Reading Insights! That’s pretty rich, considering how I fucked myself this week. Was it “you know who’s” ta-tas? Or was it the fact that Cora Jade attacked Roxanne Perez? Wrestling’s going TV-14. Still, it’s me and Braxton’s novel that is getting to me. Our lives were better, and that’s saying something, Lady Sophia. There’s still “Gulp.” I’m hoping my Book Better B Better.

530 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

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A fly on the wall? Like the song “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?” But when who you’re hiding from is everywhere. Has their own room and pictures galore, and you’re writing a book. If only “stuff” would work. B On The Wall.

Thursday, July 14, 2022

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

529 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day is only beginning, and the truth is that it’s not my fault. It’s like the Day Job sigh.

You know, nothing ever works, like me, ha. But to be honest, as though I’m not, I’ve only been waiting for everything to “come up.” Like, I need sex jokes now. How I hate myself. Yet it worked yesterday… I worked. I did 5000 words. And I was even a few minutes ahead of schedule. The victory was relatively short-lived, as I spent most of the night all mad. Of course, you know those days B III. I’m looking at the date and wondering if I should look up what happened in August on such a day around six years ago. To think such things bothered me then. Oh no? Again I’m thinking about Yabbos. I’ve been writing some about those you loved the most.

Your aunt could be pleased about how often she appears in your/our novel. After all, she was a big part of your life in your golden years. Now my actual sister and your Ma, B… While stewing yesterday, I thought about your granddad and if he would ever see the work we’re doing. I guess I shouldn’t be concerned with my publishing record. Never happen! But if you’re speaking to me, then you have much to say today as well… I keep thinking of ways to honor you. But the last thing I would want to do is insult you, Triple B. I think of you watching me right this second. Or if you have reincarnated, then I’m some Christian, Republican, lying to myself. Eww!

It’s so much easier to be shitty, sad, or, as the kids would say, “SUS.” But this morning, all I can think is how psyched out I am about what I’ll say next or you. I left on my chapter. There’s also the idea, yet again, that I’m late and it’s not my fault it’s past 7:00 AM at the moment, when I was up at 4:00 AM. I was also plenty scared something was broken and all my secrets… I can’t even say there were no secrets between you and me, Little B… And you were my shadow, my second in command, my one and only son. So uh, what about going to PetSmart on Saturday and writing? You’ll watch B On The Wall.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 009 ~Don’t You B Dying~

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Of everything I told B III, did I ever say the words “don’t die?” He didn’t know any tricks, so he wouldn’t perform that one either. I don’t even listen to myself most days. And now I have a whole week of me, myself, and I. So, Don’t You B Dying

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Saga 009 ~ Don’t You B Dying~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so don’t you be dying. It’s not that you haven’t seen the end before. But this week.

That’s right, you have a whole week, and already you’re starting off bad. It’s 5:10 AM, when you were supposed to get started at 4:00. As Braxton was dying at least… Was I about to say I was on time? How late was I? Hell! I didn’t sleep, but I was still spilling my guts out. Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to that. Don’t worry? Can you focus, fucking work! That’s the important thing. The Day Job was killing me, and here you have time. “Time Enough At Last” to avoid such a fate; all you want to do is sleep and fucking jerk. What was it this morning now that it’s 6:00 AM? Another brunette, a British vixen? Because it’s not Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Don’t THEY say, find what you love and let it kill you? Every day but Sundays, for sure, you remember Braxton. It was his last day. You still don’t have the “balls to visit Banfield. You don’t have the guts to read that book “Blackout: A Thriller” by Erin Flanagan. Brings back the memory of “Stroke of Midnight.” I couldn’t continue with that at all. So write your own damn book. Again, it doesn’t look like you have the heart to continue with that. I know I didn’t Saturday, but we’ll get to that. Yeah, while you sit here propped up on pillows in the middle of the bed telling lies. “Endure and Survive.” Like holding Braxton saying he’ll live and other Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Blackout: A Thriller (Possibly…)
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Like I’m not dying, I’m not. Talk about dangerous words. When you’re committed to “such and such” a fate, you can feel a sense of euphoria. I know that yesterday, I was ready to rush to the doctor. Jigsaw said, “oh yes, there will be blood,” maybe cranberry juice. I’m hoping it was cranberry juice, and I haven’t seen any more signs of injury recently. Dying wasn’t in the cards when Triple B was here. Hell! I would have traded my life for his in a second, and I know you would do the same. But I didn’t want to die Saturday, and you shouldn’t play dead today. Lying on your back watching the angels sing, scream, and suck. Get up! Don’t You B Dying.

525 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 008 ~To B Pissed Off~

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Has it really been six years of this? A drop in the bucket of things that make me mad. Or would you rather I am all hot and bothered. I can do both and deserve to burn. But Treachery is the coldest sin. And still no real punishment? “To B Pissed Off”

Saturday, July 9, 2022

Saga 008 ~To B Pissed Off~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I should be pissed that people want me to help? Oh, I’m such a Republican…

But like every morning, after I wipe the tears from my eyes… I get pissed and mad. As the song goes, “I’m in a rage,” and why’s that Lady Luna? Frankly, selfishly, it’s my son. I’m never mad at him for having to leave me. No Lady Lunalesca. It’s a fact I have to look his murderer in the face every morning. And when it’s not wanting to be punished, it’s utter disgust. There’s a reason I don’t go trying on clothes in a store anymore. Those mirrors are too fucking good. There’s a reason I go and pet the dogs every Saturday. To see what I can never have again. I’ve been dreaming of Braxton, which makes me mad? So a no on reincarnation?

Because I was all sorts of scared at around midnight. Of course, B III wasn’t here to protect me, or was he? I kept the lamp on a while and then heard what sounded like gunshots. And that’s when I turned the lights off and went back to bed, not worried a bit? Um, a song? “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Dangerous words, Lunalesca. Glad I already bought a gun. But like I’ve said before, like a proper Republican or not, I’m all for guns. Only I read something about them going through your social media accounts. To check your “morals” and “character.” I’m the ending of Daenerys Targaryen. I mean righteous who goes batshit crazy. No Fair

Don’t normal individuals get angry when they’re hungry? No, I get mad when I’m horny. It’s like fucking rehab Lady Lunalesca. Pardon my language this morning. Yes, B is gone. Next to his death, not being able to say what I like is ticking me off, tick-tick-ticking me off. For example, I want to talk about Maisie Williams in The Falling or some UK BBWs. I swear, brunettes, girls from England, big tits. If it’s not that, it’s Dirty Latina Maids or Hentai, hmm? I’m not a nice guy, but I’m not a douche either. Like father, like son… Braxton. Always pissed he isn’t here to make me want to be a better man, his father. Write his story. I’d say, To B Pissed Off.

524 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

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Again with my Republican ideas. Wanting to go back to the past. But B and I suffered together. He saw me through the first year of the plague, and now we are on the verge of a Civil War. Going out dangerous, but I always told B, “I’ll Be Right Back.”

Thursday, July 7, 2022

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

522 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing how we’re talking right now. Hell, you can guess how my day was (sigh).

I remember the vet warning me not to move things around the house. The way I carried you down the stairs sometimes. And how much you slept. But your nose and ears were always good. B III, your last day, you hid under the bed because I said, “I’ll help you.” Braxton, um, ok, this is a subject you rather not discuss. I’m sorry but as for my own health? I spoke to Lady Lunalesca today, Saturday, July 2, 2022. Want to feel better! That’s what I told her. So better to focus on my problems. The only thing really is my own, I think. Having to pee always. I have cranberry juice, sprite, and chicken noodle soup. My fatigue. We’re the old men, Braxton.

On days like today, I want to go back to when I would write, and you would wait. You were always waiting for me, Braxton. Waiting for me to come home, to finish writing. Oh, and my shower wanking. Don’t give me that look. You remember you’d hump your toys B. Remember how I had to sit you down for “The Talk” because you would always cozy up to your Aunt Carolina’s tiddies. Those were the days, my boy. Sitting with her and you as we all watched movies. The closest I ever got to “happiness.” I can name three. One you don’t know. Before I met you, there was one time in high school I was a senior. For five minutes, No Fear. The second, I almost died… bliss.

You saved my life that day, B. And I swore I would never leave you. We ride together, we die together. And the third again was when I gave you as much of a family as I could B III. You had me, your aunt, a ton of food. I wanted you to have a good mother, bro, and sis. Can we go back to the days when, if I wasn’t writing, I’d tell you about your future life, B? Hell! With the Olds, can we return to when you would bark at the gate at them, my B III? How about when you would sit at the foot of the bed? Or the last day, “Daddy, can we go home?” I’ll B Right Back

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

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Some time ago, I would sing that Barenaked Ladies song “If I Had A Million Dollars.” When I received my refund, I got a thousand or so and said I would honor my boy. Now I can’t even get down a thousand words for him? B III, B Thousand

Sunday, July 3, 2022

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead, you want your son back. And in this, I don’t blame you in the slightest.

That sounds like an excuse, you know. You wouldn’t feel right using Braxton in such a way. Hell! Everyone does it. And I know that sounds mean in a way. Are you worried about cash? You got ninety-nine problems, but your B ain’t one? What’s today, 518, and still counting? That’s what I told “Paws To Celebrate” yesterday. Amazing! So I can be read sometimes. What about you? Today is a whole new week. The second day of a brand new year of writing. But how many of those words have been for B III? Yeah, I know you’re only now getting up. And as for me? What is it, THEY say? The road to Hell, good intentions, and all that. Like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Tails of Unconditional Love
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I’ve said such things over a thousand times. Oh, I know (sigh), this will be six more in the bucket for you. Six promises are nothing to you. So a thousand bucks or only one? Here are some numbers for you to mull over. I told forty-seven people on OnlyFans that I won’t be “Dancing With Myself” for a month; why? You owe fifty-thousand words. Only you don’t want to hear any of them, right? Not a one would bring back B III to you ever. Yet the stories keep on coming. And what are you going to do this week? How many days did I have to do anything, and what did I do with them? You’re out of bed with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Most of them wouldn’t be with money. You wouldn’t be cringing over a ten-dollar book. You’d have all the time in the world to learn about B III all over again. A picture is worth a thousand words. To this day, you hate that saying. Fifty-Thousand words for your son. Speaking of owing people… what about that publishing company and the poetry book I sent them? Yeah, it’s not like you’ll make good on the hundreds sent away. Inevitably, you wouldn’t have to worry about fapping. My words got lesser men laid in the past. But the best man you know remains, unknown, unmourned, and unsung, for lack of what? A million excuses. It’s in his name. Be Free! Um better? B III, B Thousand

518 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will