Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

Just keep writing, just keep writing. Writing what? For example, in Math, I have no answers. I can give you another excuse. And while I hate to lie… I’m not as eager to join Braxton as I hoped. Giving the truth scope. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

Monday, August 12, 2024

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And mistakes have been made. The Trump Thing? The Trump Thing. So I’m sorry. Shall we begin?

As always, it starts with… Braxton. The blank space that my son made in my existence. If you are reading this, you see it. Unfortunately, I am, as well. But anything could happen, Madam. I’m speaking to you from Thursday, August 8, 2024, so who knows? With my luck… Well, I expect there’s a tombstone that is missing my name. And a dash. A blank?

Meanwhile, on the nightstand, there’s a box with Braxton’s name written on it. His grave.

What I wouldn’t give to “sponge away the writing on this stone.” It is far too early for Christmas, Madam. But I would take that holiday over several others. Existence?

Tomorrow is Virgil’s Gotcha Day. I signed my name on the dotted line. Blank Space

And why did I adopt Virgil? Because Braxton asked me to, from wherever he exists. I carry the weight of his request, his existence. His Heaven? “My eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom.” Braxton is dead. And to this day, I still make excuses as to why. Euthanasia. Eejit’s job. Ejaculation. Inevitably, the reason is there is none. It doesn’t matter. Oh, there’s always a thing.

Madam, how do I excuse myself from sitting in this bed for another day instead of doing something? Anything! “I came up with a million excuses,” as the song goes. Miracles? Each one explains why I continue to exist. And why I’m not dead. Because, like Trump… Eww! “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” That’s my excuse for being such a monster, Madam. I struggle to accept myself.

I have something I have to do. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one, Madam. Well, Look at me! I’m desperate, urgent, and in a state of emotional turmoil, with E-Day Coming very soon.

Better to look at Virgil. I got a call from PetSmart asking about his next appointment, Madam. And what did I say? I have to think about it. Lies are too easy, Madam. My God!

It beats saying, I’m broke? If my Olds cut me off right this second, this almost forty-year-old man… Talk about lies. That I would be alright. I’ve seen the bills, Madam. And yet I lie and say I deserve to be here. What happened to Braxton again? There is always time to make things right. How? It’s a blank space, an excuse, and a lie. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

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

1289 Days Without B III, Day 730 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 226 ~Excuse Braxton and Virgil~

What do B III and 2V have in common? I have no excuse for ignoring them. I excused myself from B III’s dying because I hate the Day Job. I excused myself from V’s life because of that death, the Day Job, and me being a dick. Excuse Braxton and Virgil

Sunday, February 12, 2023

Saga 226 ~Excuse Braxton and Virgil~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you? You don’t know who, what, or why you are. Oh, what, two hours isn’t enough?

Well, three. But from 4:00 AM to 5:00 AM, you wished you were dead. Ain’t that the dream? To join Braxton? It’s the one thing we can agree on. But B III excused himself. Yet another way of saying you killed him. I wish I had enjoyed last week. No! I was much too busy making excuses. I worried about the pay, the “Power of The Pussy” and puppies. Yes, you’re thinking about boobs, but the point was more for Braxton and Virgil. You’re not looking for my advice. Or rather, you wouldn’t take it anyway. But if you care to listen. You have to start being nicer to Virgil. You’ll never excuse yourself from your grief and guilt. I did from Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING “Melody Hooked Up” by Imogen Linn
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 037 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 044 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

Hell! You had to make up for my failure this morning. “Melody Hooked Up,” really? Forty-four days. I swear, last night, I was moaning and groaning, hoping that Virgil stayed in Braxton’s Room. He shouldn’t be there at all… What did I say? Be nice. But you can’t help how you feel. And not only because you want to fuck and/or masturbate. Like all the time. “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always horny.” And you will be too. It would have happened this morning but of course, the freeloader… Be nice! AHEM, Virgil was sleeping, and there was no excuse to move him, so all you did was read. Braxton would be proud. Although that’s one more reason you want to feel. Anything but the failure of Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Dystopian Girls 3 by Rodzil LaBraun
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 044 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

Because there is no excuse to miss Braxton’s Birthday. Which is Monday. Any plans? Well, he will be eighteen. You mean it. Not that he would be, but he will be eighteen. A milestone. You think? You don’t even remember turning eighteen yourself… twenty years ago. Here’s a question. What’s your excuse for not living all these years? You just started. Existing, never living. You aren’t worthy of being alive. And sure, you could get political. You could blame this on your “Daddy,” the Day Job, or your wayward “DICK.” Always. But you’re facing the man in the mirror now. The most loved dog in creation, or the mutt upstairs. For the last time, BE NICE! Can’t excuse yourself for who you are. Change your ways? Excuse Braxton and Virgil.

742 Days Without B III, Day 183 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will