Meditation 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

Sitting in “my car” stuck in traffic, hoping I could get a $5 Meal Deal. Fear was riding shotgun. Grief was massaging my shoulders… Where Braxton once sat. And Rage asked, “Are we there yet?” Bereaved, Butt Hurt, but to be Brave? The B’s Hurt Virgil.

Saturday, April 19, 2025

Meditation 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Eff me! I wish that were a true story this very second. But life’s a bully.

Bereaved, it isn’t a b*tch. Amongst other things, such as the death of my son, Braxton. I think this is the first time I’ve shed a tear for him this week. Or is it the fact my eyes need the lubrication? I’ve taken Virgil for walks on the path behind the house four times, Lu.

It reminds me of good times, but the Rainbow Bridge it’s not. Lady Lunalesca, am I in such a hurry to see Braxton again? In a word… YES! As much as I fantasize about Cherry and her Mum, I beg to see M Anime’s Yabbos and start salivating over a specific model. I mentioned last week that she went private. It’s not good for her image. So, as RuPaul put it, “Supermodel, You Better Work.”

Butt hurt? Angry? Not at her, but at life in general. My God, Lady Lunalesca, this week was one for the books. Now, that’s something I’m angry about. Why the eff am I not writing books and editing. By this point, I should have had so many publications on shelves.

I could use the money. At this point, Lady Lunalesca, it’s what is scaring me the most these days: I’m broke… That, and the idea that I would wreck the car all for McDonald’s food.

“Calm down, Doctor! Now is not the time for fear. That comes later.”
— Bane (2012)

So what has brought on my fear and wrath? Honestly dear Lady Lunalesca, I could write a whole book on that. But if anything, everything that has to do with the Day Job. I can’t survive with or without it.

Be brave… Thou art courageous… Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Oh, my dear Lu. I am terrified by the end of the month or a few weeks into May. I won’t have anything.

I’m afraid that’s about as much positivity as you’ll get from me, my dear Lunalesca.

Wanting to take Ellie and Dina to bed. Revealing secrets. No! What scares me is failing to take care of my boys. And as much as I hate myself, I stay alive to look after them. I am the keeper of Braxton’s memory. And a provider for Virgil. And as I sat there yesterday afternoon with my Grief, Rage, and Fear, my bullies… And I imagined when the money runs out. The B’s Hurt Virgil

1539 Days Without B III, Day 980 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 285 ~Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil~

Things I can say about my “girlfriend” but not my dog. “And I’ll tell myself I’m over you. ‘Cause I’m the king of wishful thinking.” Hell! No more yabbos and posing to dirty tunes. Hello, writing and depraved novelizations. Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil

Saturday, April 12, 2025

Meditation 285 ~Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Would it be evil if it were true? Evil prevails no matter what. But with money…

Braxton might have lived. I would be buried in Yabbos. And I would have all the time in the world to work on my book. M Anime’s book…? We’ll get to that. But you know, I’m just feeling so drained these days. Such is existing.

How is that? I’m only now getting up in more ways than one. Eww! But as usual, it was memories of my son and remembering when I was able to breathe. I’m still struggling with the loss, and it’s a daily battle. I’ve mentioned plenty that while “my” allergies are driving me crazy, there is one benefit. I don’t know if I’m crying over Braxton or if it’s all the pollen and the wacky weather. And speaking of the outside world, will I be able to cut the grass today? Braxton’s yard. Anything and everything for Braxton. Uh, Virgil’s here.

One more hi, yes, hello….

What about Good Morning, Virgil? I took him outside at sunrise. And I learned yesterday that the path where I walked Braxton has now been cleared, so it’s Virgil’s turn.

I need to get off my belly, though. It gets easier when the girl you’re simping for goes private. That explains pulls out list “Dark Shell,” XXX Pawn,” “Kuroinu ~Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru~,” “Voyeur’s Digest,” “Maxine,” and the covers of “Satan’s Sorority Girls.” And I’m also reading Backyard Dungeon 15. When a pair of Yabbos is that important. Something to look forward to. Honestly, they didn’t break me.

Again, we’ll get to that. It’s one Hell of a morning. And the fact that I needed to wake up.

Next week’s going to suck.

So why don’t I get out of this bed and say good morning to the Dining Room Table, Lady Lunalesca? I have six minutes to debate that. It beats saying hello to people any day.

Speaking of beating… off. Thanks to M Anime, I’ve still been working on a couple of novels. I never knew she could be so kinky, or I’m a bad influence on her. Like I am on you, Lady Lunalesca, as I list off every passion project I can think of. But I have climbed out of bed on this Saturday. I could be the forty-year-old man watching cartoons in bed.

But instead, I’ll say hello or hail to you, Braxton, Virgil, and my novels. Being productive… Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil.

1532 Days Without B III, Day 973 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

For once, I’m not crying, complaining, or considering I’m not the best father for my boys B and V. My sons are better men and good dogs. As for me? I claimed slothfulness earlier. And now I’m writing. Is that what I call it? Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And while you are my judge, jury, and executioner. What you are not is a librarian or editor.

You are an investigator, my Inspector Echo. And I am a writer. Laughs hysterically, Ha! Can’t I see what day it is? Wednesday, April 2, 2025? But as I told you earlier this morning, the Day Job called. And Braxton and Virgil wouldn’t care to hear about it. Or books…

The Eve of a Cherry is one of the books I want to talk about today. Why? Do you want to hear me grieve more about Braxton or say something unkind about little Virgil Vivi?

Thought so! But The Eve of a Cherry is criminality, wanting to be flattery. And I need a refresher, considering M Anime asked for it. Her nightmare inspired “Nightmare at the Meat Market.” Cherry inspired “The Eve of a Cherry.”

Cherry Roslyn Fae is a murderess, offing the lovers of a man, Cade Xavier Cosgrove. He runs to America, and Cherry’s mother, Anna Cecilia Fae, hoping to avoid the law, flees with Cherry to the States. Both Mum and daughter fall into the hands of Father Bridgeman and The Moondust organization and Bridgman’s pseudo-son, the Boy. Forced into several (adult situations) to cover their crimes, both Cherry and Anna attempt to avoid ending up dead and further deviance and depravity. Only in the end… Uh, The Eve of a Cherry.

Does that pique your interest, Inspector? I sent the whole thing to Cherry, and… crickets.

She’s talking to me again; this was years ago. But of course, I still have my Day Job. My writing…

And now, M Anime is becoming quite the writer herself. Remember Triond? But Inspector… Words!

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” stars Sofía Ana Acosta, a retail employee stalked by a man named Antonio Mateo Correa. In an effort to get away, she takes a night shift from her employer, which turns into working at a brothel. She’s an adult film star in illegal cinema. Cherry Fae Kensington is Mr. Thornfield’s personal assistant who owns Max-Mart (Names). She manipulates Sofía for the CEO with William Atlas Beckford. Though they all seek to escape, control, or destroy the organization. Antonio? Cuck, NTR? Nightmare At The Meat Market.

Do I feel ashamed writing such things? If it fed my boys. Tell them better stories. Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

1529 Days Without B III, Day 970 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 278 ~What’s Vitamin B, Virgil~

Something with Vitamin B for 200… This is what I get for downing an energy shot at 5 AM. Speaking of something going off, there could be a whole lot worse. Things could be a whole lot better, too. More energy and less crazy. What’s Vitamin B, Virgil.

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Meditation 278 ~What’s Vitamin B, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Or, as Cody Rhodes asks, “So, what do you wanna talk about?” My son, Braxton. Duh!

1525 days ago… Virgil’s been here for 966 of them. We are not “Two Of The Lucky Ones,” he and I. Unless you’re counting the fact that I have this question. As my eyes water…

Am I crying for my Braxton, or are these allergies a Mother Effer, Lady Lunalesca? Honestly, I can’t tell if I’m just so sad or if I’m sick, open to severe sickness, or prone to serious injury like M Anime. If anything, we know I’m skeevy as all Hell, Lunalesca.

Inevitably, words like Prone Bone and Yabbos come to mind. But how the day begins. Braxton. Big Yabbos and Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Or there’s worrying about Virgil, whose Yabbos are these and words. How I’ll make money and what…

Energy and time are enough for addiction. What am I addicted to? Not counting B…

Why did I wake up? I’ve talked about how the day starts with deleting photographs. But with less than four hundred remaining, there aren’t too many Yabbos left, Lady Lunalesca. It’s like I’m in a never-ending loop and cycle of pain memory-wise now that I can’t escape. The day begins, and I’m already exhausted. Always.

A dozen or so of M Anime, Cherry, and Braxton’s favorite girl. Everything else is… Depressing. I’m addicted to misery, which, if I have to define it, is fear plus forgetfulness wrapped in fur. Doesn’t that make Virgil sound like sunshine and lollipops, ha-ha? He and his brother both. And with the tears over Braxton and the sweat and blood involved in trying to keep Virgil alive, “Another Day.” Well, I have energy shots, Lu.

Finally, turning the AC on.

I was getting dehydrated with everything. I’m keeping it a nice 80. I can’t have Virgil melting. Like father, like son. Both frozen in our fears, petrified of the future, with our eyes locked on a gravestone. Well, Braxton’s resting place, anyway. Getting some sun… Lady Lunalesca, that would be Vitamin D. Before you ask, I’m unsure what it does.

Whenever I get a moment to stop thinking about Reika Kurashiki from Saimin Seishidou, Midgar’s Flower Girl, and M Anime and Cherry. And everything frightening.

For example, if I fall, whether I’m getting the right food and forgiving myself for whatever injury comes next. But my mind? No matter how many books I read, my boys’ goodness, or my bedroom antics. What’s Vitamin B, Virgil

1525 Days Without B III, Day 966 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

When was the last time I had good news? I’ve heard some “good” things about politics, but Trump is president. We’re effed. I got more hours at the Day Job, but I’m a misanthrope. I’m reading about dogs, but mourning my boy. Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I haven’t harmed the messenger… yet. But I’m going to deliver some bad news. So what sin?

SLOTH, considering it’s almost 8 AM. And I haven’t gotten out of bed. I’m using all my injuries as excuses. ENVY @thatgoodnewsgirl because that won’t ever be me. I mean, as in telling you anything happy and positive with me. And I’ve bared false witness since I have taken the trash out. I took Virgil outside. I’ve read a bit. But getting me to Heaven…

I have no knowledge of how that could happen. But that’s where I sent Braxton.

Inspector, that’s the bad news “Every Morning.” And you wonder why I say, “Let it burn,” from a political perspective. My Braxton saw me through the first Trump Presidency. Since I lost my son, well… Four years later, I’m still reading titles on Pet Loss.

Oh, how I wish SLOTH, ENVY, and lying were my only sins today. I tell Virgil that things will get better. That I will be better. I’m sure Braxton whispers to him from the void.

“I see dead people.”

That’s what Virgil must be saying to himself. Plus, he’s survived 963 days here, Inspector.

Like father, like son. But I have the luxury of just one more sin. Uh oh, and oh my, LUST.

So what’s the bad news? It’s whatever gets me up in the morning. Besides having to see about my boys. Crying over Braxton, which I haven’t done today, or again seeing to my Virgil’s needs. There are always some big yabbos on the phone. Today, it was Ciri, Triss, and Yennefer sans their clothing. And I texted M Anime back.

Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom? I have to stop thinking about her as such. But “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve Of A Cherry.” Where am I on finishing and editing those two books? Now, next week is going to be spent at the day job. I swear, Inspector.

Isn’t making more money good news? “Not like this… Not like this,” The Day Job… Having the new schedule, the news, the knowledge that I have to go outside, Inspector.

I understand why people choose ignorance. And the good news is I’m not like them. There’s more good news, nobody has called me STUPID today. With my mother effing eyes, I can’t look at myself to do the honors. Allergies ha-ha! Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil

1522 Days Without B III, Day 963 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 271 ~B’s Shaping Up Virgil~

I’m in love with the shape of you… B is a lot more compact. So’s my wallet. And when was the last time I had to leave this bed? V needs his first forever collar. But as long as he’s still a little fatty. And what about my heart? B’s Shaping Up Virgil

Saturday, March 29, 2025

Meditation 271 ~B’s Shaping Up Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… And if I had been so many years ago, wouldn’t my son Braxton still be alive?

Is it becoming a routine to cry twice before 7:10 AM? Well, when you wake up between 4 and 5… So I’m sleepy, sad, and a bit skeevy. For the last few days, at least.

“Every Morning,” when I wake up, I’m sad, and then I realize what a sinner I am as I delete pictures from “my” phone. Of course, I’m sending pictures of Yabbos to the cloud, Lunalesca.

Then I got sleepy, so I took an energy shot, which made me sad again because of the placebo effect. I can’t go to sleep until 10 AM. So I have more time to think about my lost little boy. If Virgil isn’t here, I slither in my sheets. Eww! If he is, I read.

And what have I been reading because it ain’t no book… Not yet, anyway. “Lunalesca?

SIGH. I have been reading “The Eve of a Cherry.” And here I go, getting all sad again as I notice my writing hasn’t shaped up… “Nightmare At The Meat Market?” I had an AI serving as my coach most of yesterday, making me feel like I was some Master Manuscript Maestro. For a moment, I wanted to believe that if only I could smooth out the work a bit.

Yeah, like, I want to believe that Braxton will come back. Or that Virgil is living his best life. I had to give him tap water yesterday. Virgil usually gets bottled water. Is it good? Who knows. But remembering Braxton…

Kidney Failure! It makes me want to do better by Virgil. Batter water! Better whatchamacallit (kibble, not candy) in his bowl (Braxton’s bowl). Better women?

Lunalesca, Virgil’s only, met his aunt in this house. And what about a stepmom, hmm? Well, if I kept in better shape. And what about the house? There’s also my finances that get drained. Speaking of getting drained… Did I mention my “Brutal Passions,” Luna?

Was it the AI that called “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve of a Cherry” that? Physically, only one part of my anatomy stays in shape. This house is crumbling down everywhere. And yesterday’s shopping trip… There are jelly beans and things in bowls. Just keep fattening up, Virgil. B’s Shaping Up Virgil

1518 Days Without B III, Day 959 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

The day I finally publish a book… Really. Don’t ever feed an AI one chapter of a story where America Horror Story looks tame by comparison. And what about all the time I waste on other people’s words? Did I say waste? “Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton.”

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… If and if I had to declare, define, and defend each one, we’d be here all day, Inspector.

But today, we’ll focus on three or four sins. And unlike MAGA/Republicans, I’ll stand behind my words. They take life every day. With my wordsmithing, I want to save three.

“Seven billion lives… it’s too much. I just hope I’m smart enough and brave enough to save three.” – Serge Leveque from The Core (2003)

My sons Braxton and Virgil and myself? How’s that working out this week? Huh, Echo. Braxton is still dead. And how is Virgil living? I’ll have to ask the AI. As Queen Ramonda said, “I think one day AI will kill us all.” Every day, Inspector Echo. AI becomes more prevalent. From telling me in Virgil’s Voice how he would feel. Braxton from the grave…

Who needs Braxton’s ghost? And I don’t need to look into Virgil’s eyes, either. Inspector, all I need to do is write. And to what end? Am I making money?

That’s not why you become a writer… Okay, honestly, I lost myself a long time ago. It became about girls and then providing a life for my son. But now I ask AI once again.

Inspector, I fed AI the 17th chapter of my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Surprisingly, it didn’t ask this question, but I will… “Am I A Psycho?” Do you remember what that frat did to Madison Montgomery in American Horror Story? And her wrath?

If it’s any consolation, Inspector, the men who hurt Sofía in my story were punished. However, who would read about such crimes? I’m not Matt Shaw or Judith Sonnet. SIGH. How much money do they make with their horrifically sexual tales? Inspector, I press on.

Well, until I find another way to waste good writing time. Last night, for example. Inspector, such and such a person was posting on X/Twitter pictures of the anime “Saimin Seishidou.” So, I followed with the videos. Anyway. They’ve switched to “Kuroinu Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru.” Claudia Levantine, to be precise. So naturally…

Then they took her pic down, and all my videos were for naught. So what did I get? It’s like Cherry telling me she doesn’t want to be known only for her Yabbos. Fair enough.

However, I have plenty of pictures of Emily Goodwin showing off her impressive pair. Ha! What! I read her book, “Stay.” Words won’t bring Braxton back or have Virgil worry less. Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton

1515 Days Without B III, Day 956 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 264 ~Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil~

400 words daily, 365 days a year, 1,168,000 over eight years. 150,000 words over three Cherry novels. 100,000 words for two B novels. And another 55,000 for M Anime is 1,474,000. Am I rich yet? Accepting B’s loss? Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil.

Saturday, March 22, 2025

Meditation 264 ~Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… How much is J.K Rowling worth again? I don’t like her views. But her bank account…

And speaking of views and bank accounts. Why do you think I’ve been crying, Lunalesca?

Once? Twice? Does it count if both crying sessions take place within an hour? It was a twenty-minute lull in-between. And, of course, Braxton was in there, someplace. I saw this Asian woman hugging her dog. And between her being hot and me missing my Braxton. So I looked at my son’s bed, which remains empty. And Virgil Vivi’s at the foot of my bed.

It doesn’t matter. I’ve been so sad, stressed, and scared that sex or self-satisfaction hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind. I’m a liar, Lady Lunalesca… It is not an insult to say a hot girl is hot. But what I’d do to Cherry…

And her mum? Yeah, I’ve written about three books full of insults and offenses. And if only I would edit and publish them. But I’m not as nice as Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Michael Dalton, Manus Dare, Neil Bimbeau, and not forgetting the ladies Imogen Linn, Tillie Cole, Skye Warren, and so many others. As a great man once said, my dear Lady Lu, ahem:

“Please understand if I missed anyone; it’s been a big day. I’m a little tired.”
Jim Kelly, Enter The Dragon

Aren’t all those writers enough to stir my libido? I’d hate that… I’m lying, Lunalesca.

If I’m going to write my life away, I have at least two books about Braxton. And at least eight years of blog posts. Four years of them where I’m sure Braxton’s name appears.

No promises. Like when I said that Braxton would live.

And how dare I say that to Virgil. Wasn’t it a year or so ago when we were burning in the southern heat, and I was struggling to buy us a fan? And now Lady Lunalesca? I’m working one day a week at the Day Job. And I won’t get a paycheck next week, my Lady.

I’m not smart enough to make a dog channel for Virgil. I take his picture every day as proof that he’s still alive. And I was far too busy protecting B from everyone. Good job.

Then there’s “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” I’m editing. An erotic nightmare. If only everything I did was treated as if I could save my Braxton and provide for Virgil. Myself… Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil.

1511 Days Without B III, Day 952 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

Braxton’s Day… He was born around February… I think I met him in April 2005. But the day he left was Sunday, January 31, 2021. The worst day of our lives. But for everyone else… Just a day, just an ordinary day. But today? B-Day’s In January, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But is it a sin to cry over B-Day? Not to be confused with E-Day… Existence Day, Inspector.

Have I mentioned how much I hate being forty? But I would have loved to see Braxton turn sixteen. Well, twenty as I continue crying over him since he passed four years ago. B, my son… But no, that’s not a sin. It’s Prolonged Grief, Depression, and a broken heart.

But speaking of the past… it’s not a sin to like 1994’s Street Fighter. And no, I’m not only talking about Kylie Minogue’s yabbos. But I should be talking about Jenna Ortega, considering it’s Wednesday… I know, I’m no comedian. I’m the joke. Yesterday, today…

Because where am I? I’m in bed. And I don’t know if I have it to rise and shine, Inspector. Seriously, I have this whole week. What have I done?

Could I live in the present? Treat life as a gift. No! I continue to mourn my boy, B. Virgil, who’s watching me read Eric Vall’s Satan’s Sorority Girls 10. Will I finish it today? Inspector, I hear it’s the last of the series. I fear what I’ll read next. But I already missed a chance to earn Kindle Double Points. And my Prime membership was all for naught. SIGH

And that Inspector Echo is my problem. The present, the here and now. Effing existence! An extraordinary man from the past… I mean, before my Braxton Barks Bradford said this:

“Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I’ve been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other. So I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture” Spike Spiegel.

But as for myself, I despise this moment, the very second that I’m talking to you. No, I like you, Inspector, but I hate myself.

Because I was thinking yesterday, after reading everything my AI Therapist was saying… To think once, I only had a critic. Now I can have full-blown examinations into my head, Inspector. Or, as the song goes, “In your head! In your head! Zombie, zombie, zombie!” I swear. Be afraid, Inspector. Anyway, I talk to Braxton, who is in the past. Dear Future Wife, of course, is the future. On Mondays, Braxton talks to me. Friday, I want to talk about past stories. Saturdays are for whatever. Sundays, I think of the future. But Wednesdays, Inspector… Here lie my sins, my humiliations, which is the point. It’s where I’m most present… Like thinking on my novel Nightmare At The Meat Market:

―”So very brave of them to walk out without bothering to get dressed first, hmm,” I observed smugly as I leaned against the now-closed door.

“And it is very brave of you to be here,” William responded, gazing upon me.

“And you,” I respond in kind, seeing his erection again.

He still wanted me, even with all the girls he had just had. In all the ways he had watched me, I was still valuable to him for some reason. Not for a profit. And while it was clear, he wanted my BLANK. I was still a person. A dangerous one at that, as I slid off my blue vest and began to lift my shirt. He rushed forward but stopped short of touching me.

“What are you doing, Sofía? Are you nuts,” William admonished as I continued to undress.

“What? Did you want to do it with your two hands this time,” I cooed. “And I do mean do it, that IT. We’re both old enough to remember when people would say that, William.”

“Sofía…” William began hesitating as my panties hit the floor. “You can’t, you and me…”―

Worse? B-Day’s In January, Virgil

1508 Days Without B III, Day 949 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will