Meditation 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

One more reason to feel shame about writing. When I write, and I don’t have to. Uh, isn’t that all of “my” novels? Book Reviews? Blogging daily? And the last thing I want to do after a grueling day at the Day Job is to write. Virgil, Go Cover Braxton

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Meditation 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Time Travel can be a pain. Recently? I had a conversation with Dear Future Wife on Gotcha Day.

That would be when I met Virgil. Two years ago yesterday, Saturday, August 13, 2022.

Only somehow did Virgil get lucky or unlucky, considering I didn’t have to go to the Day Job. Inspector, I spent a few hours writing to a girl I might never meet. And it was all about a fur buddy who isn’t my son Braxton. And yet, here I am saying I can read anything.

Echo, if I am to read anything, it should be this. Be nice to yourself and Virgil Vivi, too. I would rather read Braxton’s last bill for his euthanasia than that of Virgil’s adoption. Madness.

Braxton’s things cover the coffee table, nightstand, and desk. I’ll look for Virgil’s stuff. Inspector, I’d run to my covers.

That is if I wasn’t comfortable under the covers right now. And yes, pretty embarrassed.

More like tired. Because to this day, I continue to live in the day I lost my little B III. Inspector, today I live with this question. In two years, what have I done for Virgil? Right this second Friday, August 9, 2024. I did go out for Virgil’s food. Oh, I’m a good man…

Of course, I got myself a burger. I’m always finding ways to waste money, Inspector. Finding food for myself is wasting money? It’s not like I have a future. The fortieth E-Day is approaching, and how many “holidays” are there before that? As I said, I traveled to Gotcha Day when I didn’t have to. So what’s next for me?

Uh, yes, Yabbos. M Anime’s birthday is on the 18th. The day after, I should change the air filter like a responsible “homeowner?” This isn’t mine. My Olds are paying for a bum. Their son?

Inspector, they’re covering for a nearly forty-year-old bum. I need alcohol or a drug habit.

But my drug of choice… Yabbos. The story I’m not working on because of the Day Job schedule. It’s something that I can’t read. That’s what you do, Inspector half-asleep. “Throw The Covers” over me.

There’s also looking up “artwork” for the story I want to write. Again, I spent time writing to someone on my day off. Dear Future Wife? Please! I’ll have better luck being covered in dog hair than any woman’s lady parts. Virgil, Go Cover Braxton

1291 Days Without B III, Day 732 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

My friend B’s Aunt is hurt. I can’t go and help. I can’t send her cash. And her helper has joined B on the Rainbow Bridge. Good help is hard to find. And the worse… MAGA, GOP, and Conservatives could learn from dogs. Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness.

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will? As if that’s even a question. But today is Sunday, August 4, 2024. So sinning!

And never winning. But I’m missing my son Braxton. And what about Virgil? As long as he’s not making a mess on the floor, making me hop out of bed… That’ll be for my good.

If there is always something I admire about my son, it’s this. Every sound Braxton made was towards my benefit. Even if he was mad. My little boy said more than nearly anyone in my existence. Well, short of his Aunt and the pictures M Anime and Cherry once sent.

What was it I was saying about sin? Next to sending Braxton to his end and myself being born… E-Day draws ever closer. Admiring a nice pair of Yabbos is my kryptonite. Help yourself to my cash. Pretty, pretty girls.

But I’m still thinking about what happened to Braxton’s Aunt. And before that, her Gabe.
She got hurt, and Gabe died in his sleep. I had to watch Braxton’s euthanasia because there was nothing I could do to save him. Last year, I told 2-V I don’t know my friend.
We were burning up in this house, and I could not help us. Not to mention how much money I lost when his Old Man and his friend took me for a ride with fixing the AC, Inspector. But who am I to talk about money with everything he spends on me? Hmm. I’m ungrateful.

Pathetic, Useless, less than Helpful—my crime with existing. I can’t help anyone, but can I get out of everyone’s way, Inspector? How I try…

If Braxton and I had a theme, Woodkid’s Run Boy Run would be it. I’d tell Braxton I wanted to find a place where we wouldn’t ever be in someone’s way. That would be my way of helping the world. To be far away from it. But because Braxton was alive, I needed to stand.

That’s what a man does, Inspector. He provides, protects, procreates, ha-ha. He stands because the world needs good people. Helpful people. Braxton was a helper. A great man once said look for the helpers. Braxton saved me. He was a godsend, a savior, a dog…

Braxton was a helper, and Virgil could learn plenty. And me? I have no cash or courage, so I can’t help… Braxton and Virgil’s Helpfulness.

1284 Days Without B III, Day 725 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Roleplay, Cosplay, and will I even make it to Halloween. With texts from my father and the things I have to do at the Day Job… If I can be real. I wish I were… uh, with Braxton. Which explains Virgil being all cuddly. “Virgil, Don’t B Bad.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

After V’s morning business, I’ll have a cappuccino and an aspirin… What? It beats an energy shot. I haven’t had one in weeks. Simoleons, ducketts, Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Then V got sick. But good night’s sleep. “Virgil, Better B Treatable”

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It all starts with waking up in the morning. I’m not a Bible thumper, but I’m a sinner. I carry a guilt with me every day, a burden I can’t seem to shake. Not ever! My everlasting shame.

As for what I’ve done wrong, it varies from day to day. Let’s start with the worst thing I’ve ever done. 1263 days ago, I watched my firstborn son, my fur buddy, my Braxton, die.

I have to remind myself of that sometimes Inspector Echo. Remind myself? How dare I!

And what about the living? Virgil is right here beside me for once. It’s time to reset that sign to 0 days without painting the floors with… You don’t even want to know E. Eww!

Stomach stew galore. And once again, I was down on my knees. But I wasn’t praying as I once had for Braxton. 704 days with Virgil, and if he were to leave me now, Inspector…

Honestly, I don’t know… Feelings. I’m lost in a sea of emotions and can’t seem to find my way out. I need your understanding and guidance, my dear Inspector Echo.

Even sitting here with Virgil, I need only think of my Braxton Barks if I want to cry. But Inspector, ask me what Virgil gets. I’m tired. And I’m listening to instrumentals. Because I don’t have any words for Virgil. Yesterday was the most attention I’ve paid him in about a week. Between the Simoleon situation, “my story” (I’m trying), and my usual “adult” shenanigans.

Yeah, it usually involves some young woman’s YABBOS. However, the pair I’m currently worried about are M Anime’s. Well, wasn’t that disrespectful? I have to pull myself out of that Nightmare of hers. Or, excuse me, Sofía’s Nightmare. Somebody said something about getting over a woman by turning her into literature. And fur buddies… Maybe.

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.” Lawrence Durrell

No wonder I got inspired.

One woman got me to blog again. Cherry got a novel trilogy. Braxton got his name in over a thousand blog posts and two more novels. M Anime has around 6,000 words at the moment. If I were to ever lose Braxton’s Aunt… who knows? Virgil has a blank slate.

Inspector, I had to do all the cleaning after he got “down with the Sickness.” And now, with a good night’s sleep, all I can do is complain about not getting to nap. So, okay.

Inspector, we’ve established that I’m no good, and no amount of sleep is enough. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I need your support now.

Because there’s no medicine for what I have. Even when I had my son. How about a ‘super’ girl? Several Simoleons? Virgil, Better B Treatable.

1263 Days Without B III, Day 704 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Braxton didn’t discover much of the world, but the little he did know about it, he wanted to rule. The backyard, his spot on the bed, my second best friend’s boobs. I haven’t seen much myself, to be honest. But A.I… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

Wednesday, July 10, 2024

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector Echo, discovery can be strange like that. It’s not wrong all the time to explore, discover, compete…

And to be fearless. If only my son were here. That was a discovery I didn’t want to make. That Braxton wouldn’t live forever. And the Friday I learned, Braxton…

Forgive me, Inspector Echo. Whenever I think of something bad, I must remind myself that I have survived worse. My Little Braxton’s run to The Rainbow Bridge (a place where pets go after they pass away) is the worst thing.

Today, I was crying about something completely different. But it always returns to my B.

And then there’s Virgil. Talk about following your nose or sticking it where it doesn’t belong. But Virgil is my responsibility. And I gave up that fan I bought last year to blow in Braxton’s room and help mitigate the smell. I swear Virgil is afraid to explore the yard.

And I’m scared to discover life. Which leads me to why I was crying this morning. Do you remember Meditation 007, Allowed To Hate Your Birthday? Well, I don’t, Inspector. Anyway, I was thinking about that title today. And I’m about to reach forty. Effing FORTY, Inspector! And what do I have to show for it? Every day, I take another step forward, Inspector Echo.

More like I tiptoe when I should have already made giant leaps. What was I doing yesterday? I was a “Beast of Burden” for the Day Job. I couldn’t wait to get back here and write. But we’ll get to that. I read about fantasy girlies in Dystopian Girls 4. I played The Walking Dead and some other games. As usual, I fell asleep while trying to catch up with wrestling highlights. Roxanne, Kelani, Liv…

And yeah, I had left all the lights on, so I’m awake at two in the morning and have to shut them off. I only woke up late at 5:00 AM and stared at several girls’ “headlights” to wake up. All The Stars, so many. But that’s nothing compared to what has got me going.

I’ve gone from M Anime’s nightmare, which inspired me to write, to a 3000-word story. And now to planning an entire novel. Without an ending…

Inspector. While working on that, I discovered what Artificial Intelligence can do. Right now, it’s only to help me focus, but I’m ready to burn money and my fellow writers.

Whatever it takes for The End… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

1256 Days Without B III, Day 697 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Episode 200 ~A Willingly Lost Innocence~

The words are still not coming easily but what can I say about myself keeping my brand of self-control but I’m not young anymore and if I had a million dollars, would I be a sugar daddy, a porno director, with a “P.Y.T.?” “A Willingly Lost Innocence”

Thursday, January 17, 2019

Episode 200 ~A Willingly Lost Innocence~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
How To Make One Million Dollars, be Paris Hilton, Farrah Abraham, or Kim Kardashian, more to the point be the guy that gets to fuck them and have I been trying to be that man lately? I’m the man struggling to stay awake most days, but losing sleep to read erotica, money for MILF tits, and so much time daydreaming about being the man, which is hard to do when you’re working in “older” style bras.

Don’t get me wrong Dirty Diana, I’m all about the moms but besides the three I know and that defining fact you know what it is about them… innocence, I know I’ve talked about this before, but that guiltless nature of theirs. I know it was only yesterday I spoke of leaving the blameless painless, but that doesn’t count in the bedroom; what is it about putting angels through Hell that gets me going? Take my porno MILF, I will call her beautiful, divine, and everything in-between, but on camera, she’s my “little whore” with her “dirty mom tits” she’s a slut and the like. Only there is something about making a holy roller say those things. Oh so willing.

On the other hand, I’ve never appreciated someone who merely accepts those things, it’s like I’m an explorer and I want to dig that out of a girl, I want to discover it, unravel it and then cover it once again in ribbon, lace, chain, and all that is myself. A man of contradiction, for example, I do want to inflict pain, but at the same time I don’t desire a masochist, I want a girl to learn to appreciate it for my sake. Once upon a time, I had this fantasy of fucking an older model and her young apprentice but what guy doesn’t have the two girls fetish for a little while right?

Yeah more like two decades, I either want the forty-year-old or the twenty-year-old, still, as always I’m a greedy bastard and prefer them both which leads me back to my original question of how to make one million, not that I’m looking for a gold digger. If it’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that money can talk any man out of prison and nearly any girl into Hell but to meet that one… “True Teen Babes,” Exploited College Girls, guess that answers the old vs. young question though I watch the MILF’s videos but the concept A Willingly Lost Innocence.

I Will Have No Fear