Tag: Dog

Meditation 361 ~Braxton’s Novel Idea, Virgil~

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I’m understanding why people don’t do much reading. I mean, it’d help if you cared about others. Eff MAGA! Eff FDT! Eff Christian Nationalists! But what about what I’m reading? Besides three beautiful women, there’s Braxton’s Novel Idea, Virgil.

Friday, June 27, 2025

Meditation 361 ~Braxton’s Novel Idea, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… You want to ask if I will ever do another review. Read the room. Bank account…

This week has been filled with things I don’t want to read. Norton Antivirus? Effers!

There’s “my” bank account. Nothing in there. Well, I don’t know. I haven’t checked. Not even on payday. I know how much I worked last week. Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom, M Anime, would be ashamed. She’s getting 40 hours weekly to come to me.

Well, cum for me. I know Lady Sophia. Ew! And I mean the sex talk, not the sex act. SIGH.

I and my ‘Nonsense’ words, better known as lies. Because I have read some interesting things this week. But reading in FEAR is worse than reading when I’m so exhausted.

Honestly, M Anime’s words aren’t wasted. I’m editing Braxton’s novel. And “Seven Days In June.”

I’m sorry to say I won’t finish Tia Williams’ book to complete the Kindle Challenge. Hell! Lady Sophia, I’ll have to buy some erotica fluff novella to have a book to read this week. It might be the first time I fail that portion of Six Impossible Things on Sunday. And “Seven Days In June” is pretty good so far. But I’m not even halfway done, and with such gems:

“Life is a terrible habit.”
― Seven Days In June

“It was all so exotic. He’d always appreciated families from a distance, looked at them like they were a fascinating experiment: all that intimacy and domesticity couldn’t have been more foreign.”
Seven Days In June

You know why I’m not dead yet despite “Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal.” Not ok?

How many times have I looked up “Teen Idle” for those words? A forty-year-old bum. Shouldn’t I be yelling at… No. Writing strong notes to Norton and a delivery service.

What about Heaven? “Dear Heaven,” as Jeymes Samuel sang, Sophia.

But Braxton said… Hell! He writes every Monday that I have to live. And that’s why he sent me his little brother, Virgil, who is lying here at my feet. Literally, my second-born son has black and white fur. I heard Braxton whispering, “Can I make it any more obvious?”

His aunt, his Favorite Girl, still texts me. My second-best friend checks on me. And speaking of girls. What about “My Girl?” Talk about “The Temptations,” she texts me about.

Braxton has his girl; he’s palling around with her fur buddy on the Rainbow Bridge.

Regretfully, I’m not good enough to write the resignation of my life. To renounce my body until everyone knows my son. What am I, his masterpiece? Braxton’s Novel Idea, Virgil.

1608 Days Without B III, Day 1049 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 360 ~Stop At V, Braxton~

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I catch far too many Zs. And unless you’re talking about The Big Sleep… B III willing. He wouldn’t want that for me. I didn’t want that for him. But the sandman is a bunch of ashes in a box. Still, I write letter after letter. Stop At V, Braxton

Thursday, June 26, 2025

Meditation 360 ~Stop At V, Braxton~

1607 Days Without B III, Day 1048 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s 10:20 AM here, so… I doubt I’ll be meeting you at the bridge today.

Hell! Even if I got lucky, I doubt I’d be headed to the Rainbow Bridge. I know B. Bad dad.

Only “I Can’t Stop.” Who am I, Flux Pavilion? No. And I’m not Marina going around singing “Teen Idle.” But today, I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal.” I’ll see you…

Again, no. Not unless you wanted to meet me at the gates of Hell. And if only I would drown in my tears. I don’t know how to stop crying. I’m sure I cried every day for 161 days when I wasn’t leaking ‘other’ bodily fluids. Eww! But I’ve cried every day for the last couple of weeks at least. And today, while reading “Seven Days In June,” Shane said:

“I’m a person who doesn’t know when to stop.”
Seven Days in June, Tia Williams

Mourning, Writing, Lusting, Effing Up!

And speaking of writing, if you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you today. Yes, Braxton, I was busy editing your story “My Turn To B III.” You can thank your Favorite Girl, whom I had lunch with. There’s my Girl, too. You and V’s could be stepmom, M Anime.

Your Favorite Girl is my second-best friend. But M Anime is something else, you know.

She’s the “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.” And what am I? I put my firstborn son in a box.

I talked to Inspector Echo yesterday about not being a bee in the hive. And eff me, I’m an effing number to Norton. Because, as a ‘novelist,’ I can have every letter. Stopping at B.

Before being born, breathing, boobs.

Yabbos! We say yabbos around here. And you liked your Favorite Girl’s B. Not lying. Your honorary aunt has a great pair. I’m sure her wifey tells her all the time. And as far as M Anime. Seriously, I need to let you go before she gets here. NEVER! ACCEPTANCE? NEVER! We even talked about you, Braxton. If I ever Wifed her up for you and Virgil, and we had children. I’m naming a two-legged son after you. That’s why your little brother Virgil’s no reincarnation. You earned manhood “long ago, long ago, long ago.”

“I Turn Home.” Braxton, if I had my way, I would have stopped my Ma from making a mistake birthing me. But I’m here at V. Stop At V, Braxton.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 358 ~Virgil Takes Vitamin B~

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I wish I could afford an alcohol problem now. Hell, this morning, my lazy ass stayed in bed awhile and read about a girl sniffing Oxytocin. I want something to make me want to be awake or let me sleep. Sitting in the present as Virgil Takes Vitamin B

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Meditation 358 ~Virgil Takes Vitamin B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough that my first question, besides “Beast of Burden,” is, what does Vitamin B do?

And there I go, thinking about “Special K,” sigh. She was my maid once upon a time. And she was the one who told me about Vitamin B. Did I mention I have a maid fetish, My Love? We’ll get to that. The Vitamin B I want to talk about is furry and has four legs. And often looked at me like, “Forget your troubles and just get happy.” “Get Happy.” My Love, I only want to be less afraid. “Be Not So Fearful.” Here are three fears I have:

  1. Braxton’s Death, Virgil’s Life
  2. My Old Man’s Birthday
  3. Whatever Norton Is Saying

And right behind these things:

  1. Losing You My Love
  2. Losing All Our Money
  3. The Loss Of America

FEAR is my energy source, My Love. Scare me enough, and I take action. Everything I did while my firstborn son Braxton lay dying. I should say he was on “The Long Walk” because he was ready to die on his feet. Anyway, I was rubbing his little brother Virgil’s belly, and I panicked when I saw a TICK so close to his eye that I “saved” him from, babe.

And now we have today. And eff Norton! Well, I would rather eff you, My Love. Besides wanting and needing your “Sexual Healing.” What else would help me be unafraid?

Speaking of Sinestro becoming my favorite villain in DC. Darth Vader in Star Wars, ha! Hulk is my hero. Anger. Tony Stark, Iron Man. Wealth.

Sickness? Eww! But I want to be sick. As if I can get everything bad out of my body. Love?

“Stay With Me. Cause you’re all I need.” We can sleep, we can have sex. And you know how I sin. Sadism. I was thinking about all my kinks. It’s effed up that I think of losing Braxton, which is the greatest pain I’ve ever known. Then, as Billy Ocean put it, ‘You wake up, and Suddenly you’re in love.” That’s me next to you, wanting to give a dose of Vitamin D. More like “I want to effing tear you apart” Why? I want to feel better. No son (Uh, Virgil, our other children…) No sun. Just your Love. While Virgil Takes Vitamin B.

1605 Days Without B III, Day 1046 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 354 ~B After Reading Virgil~

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I don’t want to read about clocks, account balances, or the latest scams. I don’t want to read about the fate of the U.S.A., what to fear, or if a text is legit. There’s writing the deeds of evil men or the loss of good boys. “B After Reading Virgil”

Friday, June 20, 2025

Meditation 354 ~B After Reading Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But I don’t wanna. What? Read, Write, Live. Today, I’m still “Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal.”

Well, more sick. I’m a forty-year-old man. But “I wish I’d been a wish I’d been a teen, Teen Idle.” A prom KING, for sure. But I continue writing and reading about a dead furry prince, my firstborn son Braxton. And Virgil, who is one accident away from “The End.”

Only I’m just getting started on Braxton’s novel “My Turn To B III.” Lo and behold, I made it to the Dining Room table yesterday and actually got through 5,000 words yesterday, my lady. 400 to Braxton and 4600 in memory of his life. Is there a sign that reads, The Rainbow Bridge, or do pets only infer that’s where they are? They see color and suddenly become literate as well. Our failures as humans.

This is why I see myself siding with MAGA. Eff No! FDT! But in the present moment, I wouldn’t mind living in Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” I want to see Bills, Buttons, and Billions burn. Because I got nothing. Nothing but words that I think will lead me to my…

There is no B in Salvation, Freedom, or P*ssy. I have Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom for that. And must I be so crass? Lady Sophia, I’m willing to read anything that doesn’t make me sick to my stomach. Only a few moments ago, when I should have gotten up, I was worried about the sound of the phone. Best friend or worse enemy. Everything.

I might as well participate in King’s “The Long Walk.”

The bank account. WARNING! Norton. WARNING! Virgil’s Health. WARNING. After?

Well, I can read about what I am. My boys’ potential stepmom, M Anime, pleads with me to accept that she thinks highly of me. I’m a great listener and kind, and I love my boys and pretty much all furry buddies; she’s crazy comfortable with me. We’re just alike.

Honestly, two halves of a soul. And yet she gives Kim Petras a run for her money. And I get to read about and write about Ariela, Ariella Ferrara, Destiny (Cuban Maid), and Violet Myers. They got nothing on my would-be very real girl. But I have words. The man I need to be is somewhere in the words. Having to B After Reading Virgil.

1601 Days Without B III, Day 1042 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 353 ~B’s Take Flight, Virgil~

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Am I allergic to bees? I’ve never been stung. Feeling petrified or in pain, and my “Enormous P.” It springs up, and I don’t know what to do. A lie. But I’d rather let it all go. But something is constantly raising me up. B’s Take Flight, Virgil.

Thursday, June 19, 2025

Meditation 353 ~B’s Take Flight, Virgil~

1600 Days Without B III, Day 1041 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I don’t know how I’m feeling right this second. You and Virgil’s potential stepmom texted…

But last night was pretty effing terrible! LANGUAGE! And no, not because of her, B. Honestly, Braxton, you hated… How can I put this? EVERYONE! But you want me happy.

How dare I ask you to bark out Third Eye Blind’s “I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend” Third Eye Blind? B III? I swear Braxton Barks the things I remember.

I don’t want to remember last night. Why? Well, I fell asleep soon after catching up with NXT. So, the lights were on, and a show was playing, and your little brother, Virgil, had “snuck up” beside me. So I’m turning the lights off at 1:00 AM. Then like Squid Game’s Seong Gi-hun, I listen, hear, and understand this thought… cue his face I’m Effed!

Next thing you know, I’m scared, sobbing, the effing screaming inside my effing head, B.

Yes, yes, LANGUAGE, but there’s a reason your ashes rest above all my miniature armory. At that moment, son, I was (Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal. I haven’t felt that close to you in a bit. And that’s what you were doing last night, biting me, pulling me away from that drawer. I swear I could hear the angel wings on your back, Little B.

But I also imagined your potential stepmom, M Anime. Lying there in the dark, I started compiling a playlist for her. “Ain’t Nobody” Chaka Khan! “Doin’ It.” “Footsteps in the Dark.” I know, Ew! Don’t you want siblings with two legs? And M Anime’s Yabbos…

But thinking about being the first man that will “sting” her, if you know what I mean. B, you don’t want to know. If I’m on top of her, I’m not falling into my grave. And thinking of her moaning, crying, and screaming. Somehow, it stopped my tossing and turning.

Virgil wakes me up, so I know I got some sleep. And next thing you know, I’m rushing him outside so he can go to the bathroom. If only Virgil were more like you, Braxton. Seriously, I still want to be like you. But I can’t hurt you, M Anime and V like that ever.

“What was it like, the luxury of not hurting?”
Seven Days in June, Tia Williams

Did you go to Heaven to hold me up? M Anime above me. Walking with Virgil. B’s Take Flight, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 351 ~That’s Virgil, B Afraid~

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How dare I? I love my sons. One’s a memory. The other made his way into the house and hasn’t “runnoft,” yet. He runs into the room like he’ll be abandoned. If it weren’t for them, their potential stepmom, and so on. I might… “That’s Virgil, B Afraid”

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Meditation 351 ~That’s Virgil, B Afraid~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I don’t love myself, but I love you. What right do I have to love?

Braxton, point blank, period. My firstborn son, B, B III. Shall I continue? Always. Forever.

If I need define love, one word, his name, Braxton. And there you have it. As Kylie Minogue puts it, “Love at First Sight.” Hell, it was probably more for B III than me. Ha!

But Haddaway asks, “What Is Love?” Wrong or right today, here’s what I believe, beloved.

“I believe that love is the answer.” Blessid Union of Souls, seriously? Okay, honestly, love.

Love is the want, need, desire, ability, anything, and everything under the sun in Heaven and Hell to put someone ahead of yourself. I effing hate myself. But Dead or alive, I love Braxton. I love you, our children. And that’s Virgil, B Afraid.

Because I love that little MFer, too. Or at least I slipped up and said so when I figured I would die from embarrassment going to visit B’s Favorite girl and her wifey, she claimed. She claimed? Claim to love. “Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.”

Personally, I disagree with Avicii and Aloe Blacc. Love is a gift. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it. If life is a game, then love is the instruction. Have you noticed games no longer come with those booklets? Everything is online. Don’t get me started on that.

Today, all I want to know is how to wake up with peace. That’s me loving me. To have it.

Soft d*ck and clear head.

Not with you, huh… I don’t mean that negatively, mind you. I’m always hot, horny, and hard for you, my love. And you’re always on my mind. This Year’s Love or more. “Sucker For Pain”

More kids jumping on the bed. Virgil is in a household full of kitties. B III being proud of me from Heaven above. God, give me more time, I don’t have to think about myself.

I’d rather it all be about you. You are an obsession; you’re my “Obsession.” And I can deal with being the man I want to be with you. Perverted, protector, maybe even a prince, hm?

“And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind’s greatest mistakes: Falling in love with a man’s potential. We so rarely share the same view of it and even more rarely care to achieve it. Stop pining for the man you think I could be — and take a good, long, hard look at the one I am.”
Darkfever

But I’m a person, a monster who still wonders why and how you might love me. That’s Virgil, B Afraid.

1598 Days Without B III, Day 1039 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

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When I was a boy, I cried over everything. What am I now? Something, someone who is afraid all the time. My Braxton is still gone, but it wasn’t him or the book I was reading. Blasted allergies? Or what’s become of the U.S.A? It’ll B Written, Virgil.

Friday, June 13, 2025

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Friday the 13th. Happy Friday the 13th, though we do get a couple. So much blood.

“Yes, there will be blood.”

I’m more a fan of John Kramer, aka Jigsaw, than Jason Voorhees. Jigsaw could explain why I was crying today? Then Jason has the whole John Wick thing going for him. A man/monster of focus, commitment, and sheer will. This “Will” doesn’t have that. Guts!

But I still have my son’s blood on my hands. My poor Braxton, my firstborn. With the stroke of a pen, I ended his life on the “day of our lord” Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Seriously, Sophia, they talk about how long it takes for serial killers to get going. Saturday, August 13, 2022, with another pen, I “rescued” Braxton’s little brother Virgil. “How to Save a Life?” Give me sweat, blood, and tears and not ink. That comes later.

FEAR of sweat, blood, and tears? I’m not a hard worker, hard enough, considering what I’ve accomplished today. “Here and Now,” it’ll be written that I was crying while reading.

Can’t I save the love songs for Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom, M Anime. Or shall I call her Julia from “1984.” My Lenina from “Brave New World.” Is she Lorinda from “It Can’t Happen Here?” How about I-330 from “We?” Where am I going with all this other than ideas of dystopian sex? I feel like Winston. I’m weak like Bernard but want to be the Savage. I want to write like Doremus. And I’m a victim, liar, traitor like D-503. A man, ha! All these books, Sophia, they’re all I have to make sense of my identity now. To alliveate the fears of…

A well-read something or other lying with M Anime, someday.

My Julia, as she told me this morning that when we meet for the first time, she should wear some blue coveralls and the red sash of “The Junior Anti-Sex League.” We make plans all the time in texts. All of it is designed to look like ink. Kindle books, love letters, coding, etc. Yet I can’t write out an honest answer. Why was I crying over a book, hm?

Sophia, the book was Spring Break: A Slice of Life Contemporary Harem (Harem University Book 6) by Dirk Knight. No, I was not crying over that. Not even over Braxton.

FEAR grips me sometimes. Hell, like grief over my son always and forever. Writing life. Mine? What’s it saying? The End… It’ll B Written, Virgil

1594 Days Without B III, Day 1035 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 346 ~Virgil’s Everything Everywhere B~

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B was grounded in the present. The warmth of Grandma’s Hands. My sister’s purse… No. And cuddled up to his Favorite Girl’s yabbos. Then I had to explain the birds and the bees jargon to him. Uh “D*cks and Vag*nas. Yet Virgil’s Everything Everywhere B

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Meditation 346 ~Virgil’s Everything Everywhere B~

1593 Days Without B III, Day 1034 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I’m late. My mind has been “Everything, Everywhere All at Once.” Movie references?

I’m late, and at the same time, it’s too early. But at least I haven’t been crying over you, B.

Not in this universe, at least. Half the time, I’m sweating up a storm. I have to walk your little brother. I’m worried about his health. Didn’t the Doc say that he’s okay? His teeth?

That’s another reason I’m sweating, “For The Love of Money.” And no, Braxton, I haven’t been around the Day Job all that much. But that doesn’t mean Virgil’s life has been any easier. The thoughts that must be running in your brother’s head. FEAR? Uncertainty? And if I told you everything that’s scaring me these days, my son. Again, Everything, Everywhere All at Once. We wouldn’t talk about your stepmom.

You and Virgil’s potential stepmom, that is. M Anime. But I might have to start calling her Julia. Do I know any women with that name? Cowboy Bebop codename Julia.

Honestly, Braxton, I’ve been thinking about Julia from George Orwell’s novel “1984.” She is my Julia, and I’m Winston Smith. Or at least I feel that way in body and spirit. But again, I’m not crying. If anything, I’m ready to leak a whole other bodily fluid. I know… Gross!

Not something you want to hear from your old man, your best friend. Your brother.

However, Braxton, your worst FEAR could be realized. Ain’t a woman alive that could take my Braxton’s place believe that. Dear Mama, more like Dear Braxton, always and forever son.

Then, why was I late? And what do I intend to do to make it right? I can’t fail again.

Nope! Let’s not go into the moral ambiguity of your Euthanasia, or I’ll start bawling.

Though, for the record, I’m sure there is a universe where you level twenty. Seriously? Braxton, I can see you watching over your siblings while Julia and I… Well, M Anime might not like me using that name, but I’m thinking about starting a playlist of all the songs she sends me. I’ll call it “The Red Sash” again from 1984. But my Julia, geez!

Building a life with her, with Virgil. A life where “I’ll always see you soar above the sky.” Faith Hill, Braxton? Virgil’s Everything Everywhere B

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

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I’m not a minuteman. No disrespect to the founders. While I’m here, FDT, eff the Jan 6’ers, eff Buzz Windrip and his Minute Men. Eff Article 5’s Moral Militia, and eff the NFFA. I’m a “Sixty Minute Man” for love. And my boys. “B A Minute Virgil”

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I hope you do. Virgil doesn’t. I send him downstairs, but if I don’t follow.

Abandoned. Virgil feels as though I’ve abandoned him. Like father, like son. That’s 2-V, ha.

And he feels that at twenty-eight. Well, four. But in dog years, he’s in his twenties, so he’s, in fact, a man. And what, and I am forty? A man. Your man. Husband, a father.

Honestly, I want to be a Tru Rider… “A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider, that’s me.” Oh, you know I’ll go get a motorcycle and join up with the “Biker Boyz.” Hm.

And that’s what I feel like. A boy. I was thirty-six and bawling like a baby when I lost my firstborn son, Braxton. It’s been a minute. How many minutes have there been since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Math, baby…

That’s something I leave to you. I would be more than willing to live by Gus Fring’s word, “A Man Provides.” And I would work forever and a day to take care of our family.

There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. Being afraid. Every minute, every second. FEAR.

I don’t fear clocks or time. I fear I’m wrong that I’m to blame “The World Is Gonna End Tonight” or in the next five minutes. Do you remember when I told you that’s how I dealt with everything? In five minutes, nothing would matter, and I could let everything go.

“I ain’t got time, leave me alone
Ain’t that much time left
I’ve got to funk you now
Chronomentrophobia”
Chronomentrophobia

“Jeezu,” why can’t one of those things be FEAR? Our sons and daughters, sleep and sex, my love. Those moments, minutes, make me fearless.

And I lie here trying to believe tomorrow will be okay. Staind’s “Outside” is better. Beloved, music makes it better. Or at least I can’t hear everything that terrifies me.

Mornings spent here in our bed, love, reading on harems, humans, hellions, hot S&M sex.

Moaning along with you with every effing filthy, freaky fantasy that we can conjure up. Have I mentioned how much I love you? And that I’m happy you’re mine. Happiness…

Momentarily slip up. Me being happy. Ask me to “Be Not So Fearful.” Finding love.

“Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
You must forget them now; it’s done
And when you wake up, you will find that you can run
Be not so sorry for what you’ve done.”
― Be Not So Fearful

Memories of Braxton guarding me as I lie upon this old mattress. Awake and alive.

Making our children happy. Those are the moments that make me smile. That makes me…

Me. Be A Minute, Virgil.

1591 Days Without B III, Day 1032 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

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I don’t draw up architecture plans; I write books. Do I? How about reading stories? “The Long Walk” was good. But the end needed more steps… “The Aeneid.” I named my secondborn Virgil, so I understand why he sleeps. Braxton Barks Library Virgil.

Friday, June 6, 2025

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Hell! After reading “The Long Walk,” whose ending was somewhat, Meh. I’ve sampled “The Aeneid.” Snooze

Or am I lazy? Yesterday was a waste of a day. There is the exception of reading, M Anime.

You know, Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom. I swear I need to bind all of her stories together into one volume of work. And what of my stories? Braxton’s Life Matters.

So much so that I haven’t published either of my son’s two novels. I haven’t gotten around to building that magnificent temple in his memory that I told M Anime about. So that brings us to today. I was walking past my library/study/Braxton’s Bedroom/Virgil’s Bedroom. And what did I see? The Shawshank Redemption. The movie.

The Brooks Hatlen Memorial Library, to be precise. Is that sad? Braxton’s old room feels like a prison library, Sophia.

It was from time to time. Whenever Braxton would get into trouble. But I’ll never forget, on his final days, Braxton somehow found the strength to walk to his room.

Even when I brought him his water bowl, he insisted on going to his room to drink. He did it to spare me worry. I find myself in tears, wishing I had captured those moments. The Long Walk, Braxton Edition.

There’s one more thing I want for his temple, or museum, or mausoleum, or memorial. I was telling M Anime that I want to go all out. A fusion of Egyptian and Greek styles. I want to build something that truly honors Braxton’s Resting Place.

I want it to be built with Obsidian stone. Volcanic glass. There’ll be golden statues of my firstborn son. Paintings, Videos, and my books for him. Idolatry? You’re damn straight.

It’s not like I’m firing the 14th librarian of Congress because I’m a racist MAGA freak, Karoline Leavitt. Effing MAGA and FDT. However, let’s not discuss poor reading material. SIGH

The news? At least my stories are confined to fiction. B III’s existence is nonfiction.

But what about his and Virgil’s stepmom. Before writing a “love” story with her, hmm.

Sophia, I have a burning desire to see my books in bookstores, libraries, and bestseller lists. Just like Cherry boasts about. Am I joking? Whatever.

Then I can worry about the Red Room or, rather, the Black Room and everything I want to do with M Anime. The temple where my son may finally rest in peace. A bedroom where I don’t wake up exhausted each and every morning. Book it. Braxton Barks Library Virgil

1587 Days Without B III, Day 1028 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will