Tag: Guilt

Meditation 151 ~B Angry Little V~

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“It’s effing okay to be nice!” B’s honorary aunt is coming over. V is burning a hole in the side of my leg. I kept my Day Job after Black Friday’s humiliations. Nice scares me. It killed B. Um, Indifference? But that was being nice. B Angry Little V.

Friday, November 29, 2024

Meditation 151 ~B Angry Little V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But once again, dear one. “It’s been a big day. I’m a little tired.” And more?

Whether I want them to or not, my sons take after me. Braxton is angry and scared. Or he was when he first met his aunt. Virgil is tired and terrified. And tomorrow, Lady Sophia…

Well, Virgil will be meeting his honorary aunt for the first time. We’ll get there… However, I want to talk about what happened earlier today. I’m feeling a bit unsure. Was I brave? Have I become a billionaire yet? Did I live in a way that made my Braxton proud? Do you see the time?

Anger takes a lot out of you, Sophia. If Braxton were here, I would have woken up long before now. No! I’m not mad at Virgil doing his part, though my leg is burning, Sophia.

What did Dante tell Virgil?

“You get off my back! You think I want this?! It just happened!” What, watching “Papa’s Got a Brand-New Excuse?” Or how I’ve been thinking the whole day; we need a new plague. Black Friday has never been a fun time. And I’ve been so fearful today and humiliated so many times that I’ve been grasping at anything and everything to make me mad. “Anger is more useful than despair.” My apologies, dear Lady Sophia… For the truth? Or for quoting movies and TV. You must remember the movie nights I would share with Braxton and his honorary aunt. I need to find something for us to watch tomorrow. Hmm.

And that’s another reason I’m angry. The house is a broken mess. There’s too much…

Like tonight? I’m talking to you at 6:30 in the evening. Hell! Even my “arousal” for the PIB sisters wasn’t enough to keep me awake. Oh, and I incorporated them into my story along with others. Because I’m that much of a CREEP. I need people to hate me, Sophia.

There is too much hatred for one man to possess. Anger, at least. Bruce Banner has The Hulk. Trump has MAGA. And currently, I have writing. But I don’t hate Virgil. No, not ever! I don’t hate you, Lady Sophia. I don’t hate the people in “my” novel. If anything, you know who I hate. The guy who downed an energy shot and is about to taste, more like regurgitate the rainbow. Better out than in. B Angry Little V.

1398 Days Without B III, Day 839 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

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When my other boy wakes up… V? He must ask himself, what fresh Hell is this? I’m much the same when I head out to the Day Job… When I’m out anywhere. I’m afraid of the skin I’m in, the steps I take, and a sigh while breathing. Breathe Virgil. Don’t B

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… By being me? Yes, we can talk about what time it is. 6:21 PM, WTF! But to live…

Is that what I’m calling the next five hours? How about the six when I was at the Day Job? We can even go back, checks notes 1396 days. You know AB, as in After Braxton. Two things. One, I didn’t want to live before I even met Braxton. Two, I shouldn’t be taking any notes. The way I’ve been writing this month. But we’ll get to that Inspector Echo.

Why? Because this body I wield doesn’t know how to stop breathing. That’s the sin I’ve been recovering from. I’ve been brushing up on the STATE RELIGION coming next year. However, Dear Inspector Echo, Sia said it best. And no, Not Succubus Lord’s Madam Sia…

“I’m still breathing, I’m still breathing
I’m alive.”
Alive, Sia

For the wages of sin is death? Don’t I wish.

The things I contemplate while tears blur my vision at the Day Job. Have I truly mourned for my firstborn son today? If I did, it was more a result of exhaustion than genuine grief. Despite the poignant words I read this morning. What’s one more book on pet loss…

Anyway, at the Day Job, I started thinking about three things. All about FEAR, Inspector. The first was the simple fact that I hate the skin I’m in. And not because MAGA says I should. The second was that I didn’t want to breathe. Fearing your own next breath… No one knows what it’s like. This leads to number three: I have to show why I’m not worthy of it, which leads to my writing.

Inspector, I wrote two whole novels about the loss of my son. But what did I write about last night? I stole an SFM Anime about a girl and three soldiers. Then I took a scene from Bible Black New Testament, Episode 4 Recollection. Add to that a mass… whatever.

But I don’t dare ask where everyone is going. Bingo? No! I breathe, and thus, I’m guilty, or so I’ve been told. But I don’t believe in God. I believe “There is another world. There is a better world. Well, there must be.” Because my son is there and I’m not worthy of it, Echo.

Because I am consumed by fear. And with what this world is… Why not write about worse places and evil men? Breathe Virgil. Don’t B.

1396 Days Without B III, Day 837 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 144 ~Closer Than B, Virgil~

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WARNING: 18+ For elements and the outline of the novel I’m writing. What’s one more day of being lazy? Well, I did make the outline bigger. It’s 600 words. But as the song goes, “And I don’t wanna miss a thing.” 40 years? 15? 4? Closer Than B, Virgil

Friday, November 22, 2024

Meditation 144 ~Closer Than B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But not today. I should finish “my” novel by the end of the month. Good Luck!

Braxton willing. Because I don’t believe in God anymore. He, She, They, or It didn’t save my firstborn son. And Virgil? He’s been closer lately, as I have been burnt out with writing. The Smiths tune inspired today’s fifteenth chapter, Please Let Me Get What I Want. And by another song, Pistolgrip-Pump by Volume 10.

Chapter Fifteen: What I Pump This Time
Cherry prepares to be of service to Richard Thornfield, William, and Antonio. But plans to fulfill her desires.

  1. From Cherry’s POV. Begin in Cherry’s car as she speeds to work, expecting good news from Richard Thornfield. Cherry believes that Richard Thornfield has had enough of Sofía. And he’ll either sell her to someone far away from William. Hide her. Or kill her. Cherry smiles at the possibilities.
  2. Cherry quickly remembers William’s love for Sofía and fears Richard Thornfield could give William the news without her. Fearing that William may do something drastic, Cherry begins to drive even faster to reach Thornfield’s office in time. Upon arriving, Cherry strips to her red nightie and enters Thornfield’s office.
  3. Cherry watches Richard Thornfield having sex with a BBW nurse who’s around her size. Not stopping, Richard grunts orders to Cherry about the party they will be having at his hotel in a few days with his business associates. Richard Thornfield invites Cherry and says William has been too.
  4. Cherry asks about the fate of Sofía. Richard Thornfield tells her that Sofía is the main attraction and will be used to satisfy his business associates. When Cherry asks about William, Richard Thornfield says he is creating another scene for Sofía and is selecting girls to attend the party.
  5. Cherry walks down the hall in her red pumps. Cherry comes to one of the rooms and opens the door. Inside, several women stand in various stages of undress. But they all have a doctor or nurse vibe. The women pull William, attempting to entice him to select them.
  6. Cherry watches as William is eventually undressed except for his black socks but resists their advances. Cherry asks William if she can give him some stress relief by having sex, but he declines her offer. William says there is currently a movie being made that he must check on.
  7. Cherry and William go to another room done up as a hospital motif. Sofía is dressed in a pink nurse’s uniform and is currently having sex with a man dressed as a patient. William can’t help himself as he strokes himself off to the scene. Cherry’s heart beats faster.
  8. Cherry attempts to distract William by asking what is this scene for. Grabbing William’s other hand, Cherry rubs it across her own breasts. William continues watching Sofía but tells Cherry it’s a screen test for another rough scene in which Sofía will have to perform at Richard Thornfield’s party.
  9. Cherry gives up, attempting to entice William, and walks out angrily. Cherry picks up her clothes outside Richard Thornfield’s office and gets in her car. In her anger, Cherry finds herself outside a small gun shop. Cherry intends to buy several weapons, but the owner reminds her of William.
  10. Cherry seduces the owner, and they have sex in his office. As the owner promises Cherry anything she wants, Cherry begins to form a plan. Cherry, being trusted by Richard Thornfield, knows she can buy weapons for his party’s security. After orgasming, Cherry takes a few guns for herself.
  11. Cherry then drives to Antonio’s home. Cherry finds Antonio in a state of madness as he realizes that Sofía is more popular than ever and that Richard Thornfield will not be getting rid of Sofía anytime soon. Cherry orders Antonio to sit as she points a shotgun at him.
  12. Antonio and Cherry talk about the next part of the plan. Cherry in an act of faith hands Antonio the shotgun. Cherry warns him that if she were to die, Antonio wouldn’t survive the night. Antonio isn’t sure who should die. Cherry watches him jerk off to Sofía’s movies.

15,000 words to go, Lady Sophia, out of 50,000. So close. Closer Than B, Virgil.

1391 Days Without B III, Day 832 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

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WARNING: 18+ For elements of the novel I’m writing. Or am I being lazy for writing 405 words instead of (checks notes) 725? I’m here; I’m writing. I need some sleep, as the song goes. I need more Z’s. More like A, B, C, D, etc. “Need More B’s Virgil”

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And I’m probably gon’ do some mo’, you shouldn’t hold that against me though. Meaning? I’m being lazy.

Yesterday was humiliating… Witches, man. Now, swap the B with a W. Some girls, Inspector.

And I’m worried I didn’t do good work at the Day Job. And what about my chosen vocation? Writing, Inspector Echo? I’m ignoring my editing like I once ignored Braxton. And Virgil? He’s okay… I’m writing. Or so I hope.

Chapter Thirteen: Forgetting The Terms And Conditions
Sofía confronts William, The Director, about working in Richard Thornfield’s sex trafficking. William promises protection while enjoying benefits.

  1. From William’s POV. Begin in William’s house. Sofía rages at William about what she went through at the hotel with Richard Thornfield and others.
  2. William’s other house guest explains that William is only another victim, as they all are. But William can warn Sofía of Richard Thornfield’s plans.
  3. Sofía angrily decides to give herself to William. William warns Sofía that touching isn’t allowed. Sofía then touches the other woman as William watches.
  4. The woman then quietly departs as William and Sofía enjoy each other as they watch one another bring themselves to orgasm. Sofía then leaves.
  5. William reports to Richard Thornfield, who then praises him on his work, Sofía. But demands that William direct a ruthless hardcore scene for Sofía.
  6. William then visits Sofía, telling her of the scene but not revealing his total involvement in its creation. Sofía asks, can William do anything?
  7. Cherry shows up to Sofía and threatens William. Cherry says she’ll reveal everything to Sofía if William refuses her. Sofía watches William and Cherry.
  8. William returns to his house and again calls for company from two girls. Afterward, he lies in bed contemplating the price of Sofía’s freedom.
  9. William discusses with Richard Thornfield the price of Sofía. And offers to continue his work. Richard Thornfield scoffs at the idea. William threatens him.
  10. Sofía begins her scene with several gentlemen, but she now recognizes William there. Despite the rough sex, she is comforted by his presence watching.
  11. William apologizes to Sofía as he sits beside the bed. Cherry comes in trying to concoct her plan to make Sofía undesirable to Richard.
  12. Sofía says that she can’t take more scenes like the one she endured. William decides he must use his funds in more criminal ways.

Need More B’s Virgil

1389 Days Without B III, Day 830 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 137 ~Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil~

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I’m not reading any more stories about what will be done to this country. I’m a black man with zero two-legged kids and two four-legged ones. One is a “ghost” whose story I haven’t published yet. My own or Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil

Friday, November 15, 2024

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Well, yes and no. There’ll be no book reviews today. And Braxton speaks on Monday. Today…

Well, it would be “inappropriate” to tell someone you love that you’re reading another book to get over them. Or I will be for the end of November. How many books on pet loss have I read this year? Counting the last one that I bought, it would be seven. The year before, I read fourteen. And in 2022, I read forty… Forty-one if you count The Christmas Rescue. Do you remember anything about that one? Something other than relations?

Is it healing, closure, or ACCEPTANCE? The thought of the latter sends shivers down my spine, My Lady. But even that is preferable to the relentless onslaught of bad news that seems to be the only constant in this world. So why do I keep seeking out this bleakness? Hmm.

Lady Sophia, I’m not talking about the things I must “live” through. I swear, I wake up every morning looking for a grave. All I need to do is turn on the lamp. Oh! There’s Braxton in his box. But where is Braxton’s story again? There’s always editing, My Lady.

There’s always something else. Decisions that have to be made… Or not. I’ve been thinking about next month since I’ve decided what to read to close the month. But December…

It has been my TRADITION to focus on Christmas “Romances” throughout the closing of the year. But still, I can’t shake the feeling that I should do something to prepare for the apocalypse inbound. Oh, like buying food? Please! I couldn’t get it up to go shopping today, Lady Sophia. I meant as in books. I’ve read the classics like 1984, The Handmaid’s Tale, Brave New World, etc. So that’s the choice. Do I read about making Christmas babies in a world ceasing to exist? Or do I study and prepare to witness its aftermath?

Again, I couldn’t go shopping today. So, I should work on the novel I’m writing. At the moment, it’s… Nightmare At The Meat Market (Working Title). Eww, right? Why is that, you ask. Put the words “Glory” and “Hole” together. Or look up that scene between Yukiko Minase and her professor in Bible Black Only. That’s this morning. I would have to send Braxton out of the room for these movies and stories. What about Virgil. Uh, where’s my kid?

Excuse me, I’ve been working. I’ve “written” about nine chapters get these titles, my Lady:

Chapter 1: A Sneak Peek… Piece… Peace (Antonio)
Chapter 2: Taking The Red Light Special (Cherry)
Chapter 3: The Meat Market: Take One (Sofía)
Chapter 4: How To Make A Sale? (William)
Chapter 5: The Art Of Selling Door-to-Door (Cherry)
Chapter 6: The Job Market: Take Two (Sofía)
Chapter 7: Life Of A Delivery Boy (William)
Chapter 8: Ravishing… No Refunds Or Returns (Antonio)
Chapter 9: Balls To Change The Schedule (Sofía)
To Be Continued

Do you see what I mean, Lady Sophia? When I’m in the zone, the ideas flow like a river, carrying with them the mistakes, the madness, and the entire manuscript. It’s a whirlwind of creativity, and yet, it often feels like I’ve accomplished nothing at all. But I keep at it, because that’s what existence is, isn’t it? Alternative Facts.

Isn’t that just the American way? And yet, I can’t shake off the feeling of impending doom for this country. While THEY continue to be paid, I’ve wasted most of this morning, My Lady. AGAIN!

You’re my friend, my fan, and now my fictional editor… I don’t tell fairytales; I read and write, and for what? Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil

1384 Days Without B III, Day 825 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

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I did a few days in a detention center once. Don’t threaten people in print. OH! I’ve said things to girls… Uh, I know a few angry fathers. OH! Stay away from specific foreign contacts… OH! Why aren’t I the next President? “Virgil, B Not Embarrassed”

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Well, no, Inspector Echo, no, I have not. I identify as the billionaire white guy who became president.

Last night, I stood in the kitchen thinking of this house mess. As I thought of my son, who I took from this world. The boy that I treat with such… I don’t know what, Inspector. But it’s not that I’m playing the role of a Dad again. Didn’t I adopt Virgil? Expectations… Responsibilities… Sacrifices.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would fall short in NaNoWriMo. I’ve burned through the last of my cushion, leaving me with around 21,000 words. When did M Anime share her nightmare with me again? And when I wasn’t writing, I was preoccupied with building a harem. One Piece’s Nami, ‘Landlady,’ a few models and cosplayers. It’s embarrassing, Inspector, to admit these personal failures.

Not when the US elected Donald J Trump as President!

“By all that you hold dear on this good Earth. I bid you stand, Men of the West!!!” ― Aragon

This is not what Aragon meant. I’ve been standing this week, Inspector. Just being STUPID! A failure to this country. You know I have a guilt complex. Talk about representation…

But again, I was in the shower, and I was thinking about all the horrible things I say about women. But have I ever been found guilty of “SA?” Nope! But Trump can be president.

It’s that time of the year again when the Day Job hires certain types of employees. And I may not like it. But I don’t call people names. I don’t talk about camps. I don’t write laws to restrict their rights. Again, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist, dear Inspector.

However, America is not. Hey, I’m just a black man.

And I won’t say I’m an especially good one. I’m the guy who thought Whitney Wright’s “Prom Night” was a bit much. I know more models and European agents than I care to admit. And? B III rests in a box. Instead of feeling the guilt and shame of criminality,

Inspector Echo, I see the criminal who has risen from the ash. I watch the darkness descend upon this country and scream out. What’s My Crime? Any embarrassment? Some shame?

There are no such things if I were to run for office. But I respect women too much. I don’t demonize the poor. I don’t care who people marry. OUR kids should be educated, Echo.

Only This Is America. Eff TRUMP! Virgil, B Not Embarrassed

1382 Days Without B III, Day 823 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 130 ~B’s Stories Or Virgil’s~

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If I could tell you a story about “Kamala Harris’s Win,” I could have given you a book review of a guy “having fun” in college. But it is the real world, reality; my stomach hurts, and I don’t want any stories. What about B’s Stories Or Virgil’s

Friday, November 8, 2024

Meditation 130 ~B’s Stories Or Virgil’s~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… What? No book review? Every day, existence doesn’t end. And who will tell “my” story? Why?

When I’m in no mood to write one. That’s another reason I won’t do a book review right now. I mean, what story would you like to hear, my lady? The stories out these days…

There are stories of victory. But not Kamala’s. I’ve been thinking about what THEY call “The Hero’s Journey.” Kamala Harris had all the elements of that. And as I often sing, “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” And I have a black Ma. So Lady Sophia:

“Because you’re (his) mother. Mother is God in the eyes of a child” Silent Hill.

It’s not hard to believe that a black woman would save us. But it’s not her fault now, is it? I keep comparing this election to the loss of my son. It’s a sick world; I signed paperwork, and then…

Love dies? And I mean all of it. You know I love Braxton more than I love myself. I haven’t told Virgil that I love him. I swear he and I have more of a Ben-Hur vibe, and that’s sad.

“We keep you alive to serve this ship. Row well and live.”

“Your eyes are full of hate, forty-one. That’s good. Hate keeps a man alive. It gives him strength.”

Will I make it to forty-one? Again, being a black man under a Trump Presidency, my odds are definitely diminishing. If my depression doesn’t get to me first. And what about the ladies, which I want to talk about. I could look up Stormy Daniels right now, my lady, Ha!

But there’s no physical reaction even though I like her. It’s these others: Jessica Rey, Kristen StephensonPino, Arianny Celeste, and the list goes on. Not trying to be a “Creep.”

Just, with what I’ve seen…

The truth? A woman can have a beautiful body but an ugly soul. Anybody that supports Donald Trump… But it’s not like I “Canceled” these women. When Virgil gets in trouble, I block “my” bedroom. He can still run the hallway into Braxton’s room if he wants. I’m not a monster. At least not in this place, my lady. Uh, Welcome to the Real World?

But in such things as “Sofía’s Nightmare?” I say some pretty horrible things about people, my lady. I have no problem writing about women, especially, but I’m not trying to be president. Not a king or a dictator. I just want to tell stories and let this place…. Reality, Sophia… Be a better world. I miss B’s Stories Or Virgil’s

1377 Days Without B III, Day 818 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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Remember, Remember the 5th of November. I wish I could forget it. Hell! I don’t know what’s happening now. I’m avoiding X/Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere else. Reading about failing my son beats reading about failing my country. “Son Of A B.”

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What the Eff! Eff, Eff, Eff! “Eff you, eff you and eff you! Who’s next?” (Coming to America)

This Is America! And I am ashamed to call myself an American. That is if everything I have been seeing is right. Inspector Echo… I went to bed last night saying, “I don’t feel so good.” And this morning… Well, there have been tears. And that’s my crime for today.

Not one of them has been for my son Braxton. M Anime and Cherry texted and asked how I was feeling. I dared to say that this is reminiscent of my son’s passing. Can’t be

When I looked into Braxton’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I tried. I’ve done everything I can, but I can’t save you. Please forgive me!” Yesterday, I did my best, Inspector Echo. You know me. I’m an effing misanthrope! But I voted for the people who I believed would bring positive change. And now, I’m left wondering what will become of them and me, Inspector?

As I said, I did my best. But winners go home and eff the prom queen! Yasmina Khan, Jessie Rasberry, the Midnight Sleazy Train series and even Cherry’s melons… No prom queens. Though if I know MAGA and the dictator… excuse me, next president’s taste…

Inspector, that’s one more way I know this isn’t good. I had no desire when B was gone, and now? I feel sick to my stomach. I want to silence everything. And what I’m seeing…

SUCKS!!! Everything sucks! Does that include the book I’m reading? Like I said, Inspector, since I haven’t been “getting off…” No Nut November, Election News, and the nothingness I feel.

Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife. I was lost before I finally got it up to talk to you, Inspector. Any comfort?

Honestly, I don’t know. It’s kinda preachy. Kate McGahan’s dog, Jack, is preaching to her and all of us. But I can see Braxton saying some of this stuff as well. I am not a prophet or philosopher. Braxton is not the “Son of a Preacher Man.” But Braxton is trying… Faith, hope, and love

Inspector. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse partner. And we are on the verge.

Talk about “I saw the sign.” Or coincidence… It’s was the fifth of November. I’ve watched V for Vendetta reactions with Virgil/V. Waiting for what now. Son Of A B

1375 Days Without B III, Day 816 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 123 ~Braxton and Virgil Meet~

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Is it a lack of food that has me Cannibalizing myself? I don’t think I got any Halloween candy. Perhaps the Day Job? (Shudders). I spent all my money on books about Yabbos and keeping V fed. I can’t have him meeting B. Yet… “Braxton and Virgil Meet.”

Friday, November 1, 2024

Meditation 123 ~Braxton and Virgil Meet~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I prefer it not to be a review of Joseph D’Lacey’s MEAT. I really said that!

And while Virgil is not my son Braxton… I don’t plan on sending Virgil to meet his older brother anytime soon. Braxton was still here when democracy was threatened before…

Election Day, then the Insurrection, and then the Inauguration. How I miss my little boy.

And I hate meeting new people. So, let’s start with the top contenders. Madam Justice, Dirty Diana, and the “Spirit in the Sky,” “My Sweet Lord,” “He’s My Son” Braxton.

Sophia, is there someone else? The voices in the head of a dead man. How about something to the tune of The Substance? Elisabeth Sparkle vs. Sue. “I Against I.” Only this is about us. It’s not about having bigger fish to fry. It’s just so many. Then there’s Cannibalism!

The MEAT and Greet Market:

I feel as though I’ve been here before… MEAT was before Tender Is The Flesh. But guess which one I read first? And which one got four stars? Uh, both. But MEAT was much more brutal… or should I say tough? Tender Is The Flesh is medium rare. MEAT is well done in the fires of Hell. I’ll eat both. I meant read both. Seriously, for all the Dead/Zombie stories, I read this book with living, breathing people eating… And let’s not forget the “adult situations” and worse. My friends… If my friends knew about such things as this. Am I crazy, or in a cult? Not much of a critic. The religious aspects, the riots, the rage… Chef’s kiss.

Today is Sunday, October 27, 2024, but by the time you read this, Halloween will be over and done with. I still need to figure out who I’ll talk to on Monday, November 4, 2024.

Again, Bigger vs. Many Fish, which is Election Day. Do you want to know how that story ends? Kamala Harris and Tim Walz for the win. Yes!!! Eff Donald Trump. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on this, My Lady.

Will I be “writing” new rules for Madam Justice to enforce? I’m not sure, Sophia. I’m feeling a bit lost in this sea of uncertainty.

Resurrect Dirty Diana. THEY would say I’m all crazy about the female form. Uh, Yabbos?

I could TRY to let my son speak through me. Or create a better version of myself to write about.

Younger, more handsome, more perfect. Wouldn’t that be my “two” sons? Braxton and Virgil Meet.

1370 Days Without B III, Day 811 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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To save Virgil, I would have never come back. I would have picked him up, put him down, and pet the dogs next time. I could have saved Braxton if I knocked a lot of people to the floor. Saving myself? I don’t have a cape. “We’ll B Saving Virgil”

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And no, I don’t mean waking up super late. It’s 8:20 AM. Or looking at… sending dirty pictures.

SINS, nevertheless. But not REALLY bad ones… Must I once again return to what I did to my son? Not a day goes by that I forget that Braxton’s gone. Have I not given everything!

The only answer, “More, more, more.” And so here lies Virgil, my “second-born” son, who is very much alive and well, Inspector Echo. A four-year-old.

I ask myself, does he get jealous. As I sit here at the edge of” the bed… “Ooh, it makes “me wonder.” What? About all my pop culture references. Because the voices in my head…

Inspector, it has been a mess for a few days. And when I say that, I mean around forty years’ worth. Give or take fifteen years. Anyway. It seems Virgil is pushing me away from Braxton’s “Shrine.” I’m no hero.

Far from it… This leads me to my fourth greatest sin this week… thus far. One is Braxton’s passing. The next is waking up. The third is continuing to fail Virgil. He went from “I Believe I Can Fly,’ And “Fly Like An Eagle” to “Dear Heaven.” The music, sigh.

And in case you are wondering why I’m not listening to Lofi Girl. Well, I get a day off, and instead of being productive… Uh, you and me are talking. I look up such depravity.

However, yesterday, I was headed to the Day Job. Outside this house, I saw a fur buddy walking alone in the dark. Why didn’t I save him? Why didn’t I even try? You know why…

The DAY JOB, Inspector. Working there has taken so much.

I can’t save myself from that place. The DAY JOB, short of my own two hands, took my son away from me. And here’s a third life that could have been lost because of my inaction. When I came back, I saw someone had found him and was trying to bring him home. But what about me, Inspector. I could have done something, anything. Inspector?

I don’t have to be some celebrity, fad, or influencer. Talk about “Hey Jealousy,” Inspector.

I don’t have to be a best-selling writer. my writing Inspector… It’s so much worse.

Worst is being a man of inaction. GOP politicians, specific photographers, a budding career in por… being an adult. Villainy, sickness, whatever. I dream, though. Someday. We’ll B Saving Virgil

1368 Days Without B III, Day 809 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will