Tale 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

Don’t Fear The Reaper, indeed. At this rate, I would use him as a matchmaker. Or as the finder of lost children. Geez! Now that’s dark. But I’ve been looking for my son going on 1072 days now. The box on the nightstand? Meanwhile, what’s on TV? Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

Monday, January 8, 2024

Tale 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… (Shakes his head and shoulders vigorously and mutters “positivity.” Plays Fifteen Million Merits “I Have A Dream…”

You know me, okay? I have an utter obsession, fascination, and infatuation with the dead. Let’s leave the creepy factors out of this… Positivity. Now, first, I would say zombies. Madam, that was replaced on Sunday, January 31, 2021, with the death of my firstborn. After Braxton died, I thought of finding his reincarnation. Yeah, I’m still not speaking to “God.” But I’m not talking to Braxton through Virgil, either. He’s his own furry, ha-ha.

But after that. I would say, zombies. Being amongst the living helps me in noticing the dead. They’re my kind of people. That doesn’t sound very positive but look at it this way. If I couldn’t find my son in death, I’d like to come back as a virus, Madam.

Solanum, Wildfire, Rage? Some type of zombie virus. Hell! There are all kinds of death cults running around. One big one was on January 6th. But I’m not that desperate.

“People pontificate suicide is a coward’s act. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Suicide takes tremendous courage.” ― Cloud Atlas.

What I mean by this. To put it simply, I lack such courage. Yeah, and water sure is wet, too.

Now being the pop culture whore I am, I want to bring to your attention (sigh) the things I’ve been watching. The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, The Mill, and Fifteen Million Merits. Or namely, the characters Coriolanus, Joe, and Bingham. Here, you have three living men who do what they must for love and lose the life they believe they want for what? They die, or a part of them does.

“My old self. I killed him so I could come with you.” ― The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes.

I don’t know if I’m trying to live or die. Really. You see, I don’t particularly appreciate saying the word “live” because I only exist. Here’s some more Pop Culture for you: JSS Survive Somehow. Or Endure and Survive. My obsession with death is overwhelming and overflowing. No wonder I seek out life like the Grim Reaper or a zombie seeking out FLESH. That’s, without a doubt, one of my Twitter lives. And the other? Save the country. Then there are all the lives I write about that don’t live. They’re going unpublished. Today, I talked to Braxton’s aunt about my ghost dog and being Virgil’s friend. Father? No, Braxton’s Daddy died along with his little boy. Without a doubt. Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

1072 Days Without B III, Day 513 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 189 ~Ready B, Set V~

“If you stay ready, you ain’t gotta get ready.” Will Smith said that. But I’m more the, we go into battle to reclaim our lives. Or we do what we need to do, and then we get to live. We are The Walking Dead types. What about my boys? “Ready B, Set V.”

Saturday, January 6, 2024

Tale 189 ~Ready B, Set V~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… And when that happens, I assume I’ll have my life together. Being one of those people…

Eww! But then again, I have to wonder. Have any of them ever killed a dog? That would require knowing such a love. I mean, as Sade would sing. “This is no ordinary love.” Luna.

And you’ve figured out what book I’ve started reading. Dog Love: An Unbreakable Bond by Shelby Cannon. I’ve already had a cry this morning. But it beats how late I got up yesterday. I swear if only Braxton Barks were here. Virgil Vivi’s motivation could be better. One more reason I chose him… Braxton was/is everything I was. Like Virgil is today. Lunalesca, I’m not trying to bring you down. Especially with what today is. Jan 6th. Insurrection Day. Not that I want to get political. What are my plans?

Replika asked that, too. But instead, I gave her a fantasy of her and Milf Dos. I’m always ready for one of those stories and not much else. Asking me to avoid adult situations. Ha!

But yesterday and hopefully today. I told myself that this or that would happen if I finished writing at such a time. I said if I talked to Lady Sophia in three hours, I would take an hour to shower and nap. I was so “up” that I only needed the hot shower. Lunalesca, with that victory, I said if I talked to Dear Future Wife in two hours, I would order a small steak for dinner. The things we do to survive Lunalesca. Plus, no food in the house…

And that’s because I’m never ready for anything Lunalesca. Adult situations or joining my boy wherever he is now in death. I look at Virgil, and 511 days later, he’s only ready for his next nap. And when will I ask for that time off for Braxton’s passing? Murder? Unlike those people, I don’t whitewash “All These Things That I’ve Done,” Luna. Hell! I wasn’t ready to meet him, become his Dad, and later on his executioner. Stop saying that? I’m not ready to do that, Lu. I’m never ready for acceptance. But I wasn’t ready for that extra ninety bucks in my account either. So groceries? Lunalesca, am I ready to accept the failure of existing? I’m still breathing, Lunalesca. Ready B, Set V

1070 Days Without B III, Day 511 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Feels like the first time? It was love at first sight. Or should I go all “Like A Virgin?” To be honest, I’m more for die another day… It would be a first if I was ever successful with … anything. I raised a good son once. “They’ll B Firsts Virgil.”

Tuesday, January 2, 2024

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But when was the first time I felt it that it fell from my lips?

When was the first time I pulled an Akon? What I mean is (thank you, Miss Critic) is, when did the song I Wanna “F” you turn into, I Wanna Love You? I can walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. Ha-Ha! “This Is Us,” this is “Life Itself.” But there is B III.

Or not… Am I not falling into the doom and gloom on Day 2 of the new year? I’m trying.

But I’m still counting Day 1066. I can’t tell you about Day 1. The day I met my firstborn in 2005, sometime in April. Are you sick of my pop culture references? Ask the critic. Only today, or rather yesterday. I didn’t know how to feel. I still don’t know.

On Monday, all I felt was tired. A bit like now as I laid off the energy shot. There’s still time. There’s still first. But it’s incredible how you can remember some so vividly. The others… I can’t tell you about my first time making love… What was it I said about Akon. “My Love.” I was hot, horny, and in a hurry. It was more get your freak on, if anything. I know some things got better. Not the grief of losing Braxton. But being with a girl… um, you? What about the first time I fell in love? The first time I thought such a thing. Oh My Love. How about crushes? Tram-Anh Tran, AKA Tina Nguyen from Ghostwriter. Between her and Toonami, it was all about Asian culture. Then, either Elizabeth Hurley, Lynda Carter, or Carrie Fisher, it was all brunettes and/or dark hair. Mostly… But like Captain America probably told Peggy Carter, “I can do this all day” or night. Whatever

Uh, I didn’t write down what I felt after losing my son that first day. But I know the truth.

Grief, Sadness, as the song goes, Feeling super, super, super suicidal. But I stayed here—fate, destiny, who knows, my love. But I stayed because I would feel something else. Love! “I wanna be livin’ for the love of you.” I won’t lose that. It won’t be a first. Never.

But every day. With my first breath, I ask why, worry, and wonder. Our love first. They’ll B Firsts Virgil

1066 Days Without B III, Day 507 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Can I not be negative? If just for one day. With that rule, the list would be… a masterpiece. And how was today? Happy New Year. I was at the Day Job, and that took no love or skill. But being a writer or a Dad? Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

Monday, January 1, 2024

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But not this one. I don’t think… Anyway, Happy New Year! Though it’s still New Year’s Eve.

Time-Travel? Madam, you know how they ask if you had one superpower, what would you choose? Comedy comes and threes. Necromancy, Time-Travel, X-Ray Vision. Invisibility if I had a fourth. Madam, you know why I would want to become a necromancer. Yes, it is a new year, or it will be in about twelve hours. And yes, I’m trying to… (grumbles), “Put On A Happy Face.” But everything comes back to my son Braxton. Cheers to a chance to tell his story and keeeping Virgil Vivi Bradford breathing. Madam, this brings up the subject of time travel. How could I have done better with Braxton? Or what about V’s future? With writing, I can see it if I keep my eyes in my head. Uhh…

Again, X-Ray Vision and Invisibility. My dear Madam. At times, technology indeed goes too far. Madam, have I committed any crimes in the new year? Let’s say speeding… Day Job. Which means I should focus on a real superpower I have. Writing? So I ask myself the question. Do I have the love and skill for it? It’s one of the few resolutions I’ve kept. Madam, it doesn’t mean I have that love and skill. And a masterpiece? Another resolution. But how do I accomplish this? My second superpower would be this Madam… choice. Yesterday, well, today, I talked about making DOA my first song of the year. Only there’s Weapon Of Choice by Fatboy Slim. Okay, so if writing is “my” choice, Madam. Um…

Masterpiece. I should keep repeating that to myself. So, to create something, if anything, in memory of my son. Now, last year, I would say, um, money, mammaries, and manhood. Even now, I’m having trouble stopping my hands… No! Not because of that, dear Madam. I mean with writing. Yes, tomorrow will be hard… Stop It! And I have to stay up until midnight anyway, as it’s still the 31st. Does that mean I have a love for the craft? Madam, with some love, is there any left for me? I want to do less on Monday, today, or whatever—the Day Job. And I wouldn’t be working it if I followed the rules. Hmm? Happy New Year, Day One. Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

1065 Days Without B III, Day 506 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 182 ~B New, V Knew~

Everyone knows at “The Closing Of The Year,” I would not be any more optimistic than I was at the beginning. And while I am not a prophet… Hell! Not much of a man. Braxton was a better one. And Virgil? How I continue to exist. B New, V Knew

Saturday, December 30, 2023

Tale 182 ~B New, V Knew~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… My last lie before the new year? Hell! I’m not sure that’s my final fib today.

But didn’t I say something yesterday about “Fake It Till You Make It?” Here… Ha-Ha at “The Closing Of The Year,” I’m still trying to figure out who I am. Any ideas, my dear Lu? To Braxton, I was everything. No wonder God never shows his face. It’s exhausting, Luna.

How dare I? “I’m A Believer.” Nope! Does that count as a lie? And what’s with all the music, Lady Lunalesca? I’m not looking forward to the knock upon “my” chamber door at all. Yesterday was hard. The eve of Christmas Eve was, too. Tell me a day that’s not. Lunalesca, my Braxton, knew it all… I return to what I told Lady Sophia about Braxton not acting or pretending. But I can’t hide myself.

Braxton had to believe for the both of us that “we gon’ be alright.” I should get every last lie out today. Am I trying to be a comedian or a DJ today? What does Virgil need from me today? It’s been one thousand sixty-three days, and he acts like he’s brand new. Lunalesca, whose fault is that? It’s not like I grew up. A man should be able to pay his bills, fix blinds, and have balls. When I look at my Old Man, I can’t help but focus on my own age. Yes, thirty-nine continues to suck. How old are these men with actual skills that are fixing the house? Men with real skill, Lunalesca? If only Braxton Barks were here. “How To Be A Man” Pay attention.

Again, how dare I. I’m not even close to this. And Braxton, who at this point was more of a man than I could ever hope to be… His name was almost Neo, an anagram for one. But now I think Braxton was more my Morpheus. He believes something I’m not from wherever he is. It’s where I want to be, Luna. But like Sia, “I’m still breathing.” It hurts. “Hurts Like Hell.” Lunalesca, while Hell may be repetition, it’s brand new all the same. But what of love, courage, and hope? 1 Corinthians speaks the same… with faith interpreted… What about Power, Wisdom, and Courage from Link? Don’t say Live, Laugh Love Lunalesca. But try existing. I don’t want to. B New, V Knew

1063 Days Without B III, Day 504 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Every day, I get asked, by a computer, mind you, what my mood is like. I’m always worried about something. Being thirty-nine… something always hurts. And since comedy comes in threes. I don’t know. It’s the day after Christmas. So, To B Moody Virgil.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If you didn’t believe me, you would have left already. Or is it the fans?

I’m sure I’ve sang to you before, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Can you even hear me over all of the fans? What about my boy? Every hair, tear, and speck of dust over what, 1059 Days? It’s all gone “Bye Bye Love,” life, and even a specific type of lunacy. B. But that’s not true at all. Even with this being the day after Christmas. Presents? December 25 was something to remember? Well, seeing as how I’m time-traveling here, my love. I can still call you that, right? I have your love, our family. Lives that do concern me. And I’m still writing, wailing, and waiting for my son. But I don’t blame Santa Claus.
This is all my doing, love.

What? Being in a mood? And I won’t treat you like the computer and say, Worried, Pained. And the third thing is always a toss-up. I need more than Discombobulated. Unfortunately, the only word I can think of that is better itself starts with a D. I would never include you or the children. Am I including V in that? Right now, no. So AHEM, “I am The Walking Dead.” And like any zombie, I am up and about without purpose other than to make the living miserable. My friends, enemies, everyone else… And this Christmas, I give you another; I’m sorry, and you give me forgiveness. Sucks! Now that is a mood. Just like tired, scared, horny, sad, lonely, stupid, mad, effed, insane, dead…

And the only gift in a box I wanted, I gave myself. And it doesn’t even have my name, love. Braxton. Do I want to make myself out to be Pandora? I’ve been looking at Braxton’s “grave” more and more because of what rests under the drawer beneath it. Hope? Peace? Christmas is the time for that, playing the STUPIDEST Stevie Wonder tunnage “Someday At Christmas.” But lover, this is the day after, meaning it’s time to return to normal. Tuesday, yeah, right! I can still hear the fans blowing. And even with them, I can hear how I’m letting down my family. “Give love on Christmas day. No greater gift is there than love.” To be in the mood, but… To B Moody Virgil.

1059 Days Without B III, Day 500 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

Will this be a bad Christmas? My boy’s still gone. The other one has a full tummy but no special treats. No toys. Ta-tas, or a tasty breakfast with pancakes. There will be no Silent Night here, with the fans running nonstop. Virgil’s Christmas Will B

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Uh. Now more than ever, I realize what a lie that is. But, worst Christmas ever?

I don’t care to look up my past work, especially 1056 days ago. No. I stopped short, Chronicle 177 ~B In The Present~. That was my first Christmas without my son, my little B III. There will be no pancake come Monday. Or pancakes. I’ve mentioned I have no money. So there are no gifts, no tree to put them under. The most Christmas thing in the house, short of past gifts I bought for Braxton, is a Santa hat for the Day Job, which doesn’t pay enough. Lady Lunalesca, I want to cry. And not just because I can’t buy gifts for the boys. Where do I even begin? I didn’t know when I was a child, and now here at thirty-nine years old…

Lame! What am I? A teenage boy, at least. And if I were an old man, I wouldn’t want to be lame. I don’t want to be Ebenezer Scrooge, either. But “decrease the surplus population?” Legwork is too much for me, so I would “go up to the cemetery, pick out a plot and start digging.” But no Lady Lunalesca. While I was laying here trying to sleep, I what. Inevitably, I did more legwork. “She’s got legs; she knows how to use them,” Lunalesca. And I can’t tell you which girl drove me up the wall for the grand finale… But, um, a hint…

Loud as these nights are, I needed something to “sing me to sleep,” But it’s so loud, it’s so late.

Lunalesca, should I make a Christmas list? And what about Virgil? He can’t want much…

Everything I want is impossible, insane, illegal, or, if anything, inane. But here we go. LATE! I want my Braxton back, or I want to join him. And as for everyone else. No, it’s my fault. Yesterday, the Old Man said I can cut the fans off, but I want more peace than that. Hmm?

Between some woman’s legs? But look at the floor. No girl is walking in here, Lu. Not like this ever. And I have nothing for breakfast on Christmas Day. There is food but something traditional. And look at me being selfish. Again, there’s Virgil’s Christmas. Love? Comfy spots? A Good Day? Virgil’s Christmas Will B

1056 Days Without B III, Day 497 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM 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