Tag: Guilt

Meditation 039 ~Defining Mr. B, Virgil~

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The Refraction of Mr. Saturn? That’s a title. How about the books I’m writing? The books I’ve written. Two of them are about my firstborn son. My Old Man can’t define me, and I still refuse to represent my son. Too much to do! Defining Mr. B, Virgil.

Friday, August 9, 2024

Meditation 039 ~Defining Mr. B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Just different from the one I’m supposed to be working on. “Sofía’s Nightmare.” It’s still untitled.

It’s a heavy burden, Sophia. Braxton’s novels remain untouched. And even if I edit them, it’s too late for me now. I couldn’t save Braxton from fifteen, and now I’m left to grapple with the thought that I can’t save myself from being almost forty.

Sometimes, it still burns me up that he was 13 days shy of 16. He died on the 31st, and his birthday was on the 13th. Virgil’s Gotcha Day will be on the 13th of this month. A coincidence? A conspiracy? After crying for my boy and watching some cute girls’ yabbos, I started listening to people define their type of crazy. Racism, running elections, rewriting history, etc. How do I explain my conspiracy theories? How do I define refraction?

Look at the time; it’s time for a book review:

Big Ideas For Mr. Saturn

Well, maybe not, considering this is a short story and what happens in the end. But it gets five stars from me. The ideas are so “out of this world.” At the same time, it is relatively simple for a guy like me and the characters within it. However, Ms. Courtenay Schembri Gray is a complex individual. Or so I think. It’s one of the reasons I rather enjoy her work so much. Though I can’t pinpoint any particular moment in this story, I consider my moment. As a whole, it is an excellent piece. And the only thing stopping me from purchasing several copies for friends is simply that it’s on Kindle. I’ll ask them all the same. The prose is truly excellent, and I’m sure you’d appreciate it as much as I do.

Will that get me to stop thinking about such and such yabbos? I really want to get back to writing “my” story. Well, it’s a story a girl dreamed up who has an impressive set of yabbos herself. The things I write that aren’t a part of the anatomy, Sophia. I complained about the “Day Job’s” hours some time ago, and now I must write to stay ahead. Somehow hmm.

Then, there was looking at the financial books. As Cherry said today, “Everyone is broke!”

So, Lady Sophia, I find myself grappling with the weight of Braxton’s death, the responsibility of keeping Virgil alive, my gazing at M Anime, and the allure of Cherry’s buxom bodies. And amidst all this, I’m reading the book Morning Star. Can I genuinely define myself in this moment? I find myself wanting to try. But Defining Mr. B, Virgil.

1286 Days Without B III, Day 727 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

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My friend B’s Aunt is hurt. I can’t go and help. I can’t send her cash. And her helper has joined B on the Rainbow Bridge. Good help is hard to find. And the worse… MAGA, GOP, and Conservatives could learn from dogs. Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness.

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will? As if that’s even a question. But today is Sunday, August 4, 2024. So sinning!

And never winning. But I’m missing my son Braxton. And what about Virgil? As long as he’s not making a mess on the floor, making me hop out of bed… That’ll be for my good.

If there is always something I admire about my son, it’s this. Every sound Braxton made was towards my benefit. Even if he was mad. My little boy said more than nearly anyone in my existence. Well, short of his Aunt and the pictures M Anime and Cherry once sent.

What was it I was saying about sin? Next to sending Braxton to his end and myself being born… E-Day draws ever closer. Admiring a nice pair of Yabbos is my kryptonite. Help yourself to my cash. Pretty, pretty girls.

But I’m still thinking about what happened to Braxton’s Aunt. And before that, her Gabe.
She got hurt, and Gabe died in his sleep. I had to watch Braxton’s euthanasia because there was nothing I could do to save him. Last year, I told 2-V I don’t know my friend.
We were burning up in this house, and I could not help us. Not to mention how much money I lost when his Old Man and his friend took me for a ride with fixing the AC, Inspector. But who am I to talk about money with everything he spends on me? Hmm. I’m ungrateful.

Pathetic, Useless, less than Helpful—my crime with existing. I can’t help anyone, but can I get out of everyone’s way, Inspector? How I try…

If Braxton and I had a theme, Woodkid’s Run Boy Run would be it. I’d tell Braxton I wanted to find a place where we wouldn’t ever be in someone’s way. That would be my way of helping the world. To be far away from it. But because Braxton was alive, I needed to stand.

That’s what a man does, Inspector. He provides, protects, procreates, ha-ha. He stands because the world needs good people. Helpful people. Braxton was a helper. A great man once said look for the helpers. Braxton saved me. He was a godsend, a savior, a dog…

Braxton was a helper, and Virgil could learn plenty. And me? I have no cash or courage, so I can’t help… Braxton and Virgil’s Helpfulness.

1284 Days Without B III, Day 725 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

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WE don’t write like I once did with B. He would sleep under the table while I would type away. WE don’t read like I once did with B. I don’t go and lie on the couch and try not to drop my device. And reading about pet loss… Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye.

Friday, August 2, 2024

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or sing you a song? I would rather go back to sleep. Always. Yesterday was bad.

And I only write bad stories. Sad ones, at least. And so I remember the worst story I ever wrote. A bill for euthanasia, cremation, and my son, my boy Braxton, in a box. It still amazes me I can sweat over days like yesterday. The weather Sophia… Please! Hell?

That’s what I deserve, whether it be from embarrassment, Eros, or, again, B III’s euthanasia.

I’m just a “Sucker for Pain,” It’s what makes me a great $adist. The fact that I understand my ma$ochism. And I trying to fool any censors and the like. Like little Virgil? That’s TMI.

I haven’t had much private playtime. Not with Virgil, “my constant companion,” (rolls eyes) always by my side, even when I’m trying to write.

Even now, he’s lying here while I write a book review:

It Takes The Hardest Goodbye

To do what exactly? Heal? I won’t say I like this book. But who can say they like any book about dog loss? It’s good, needed, necessary, but no one wants to read them. Still, I did to the tune of three stars. I’m still reading things like this, and my fur buddy, my son, has been gone for three years. Titles like this blend together after you read enough of them. But the fact that I took a few quotes, here or there, to heart honestly says a lot. I know a few fur parents, and I could recommend better. But The Hardest Goodbye is a good starter book for anyone taking this long and lonely walk of loss.

Can I say, Sophia, for the record, that I’m absolutely livid with the Kindle App for removing this book from my list? It’s not like anything I’ve written or will. Will ever be seen… like for real. Ever! My works…

Sophia, I’m still working on “Sofía’s Nightmare,” And I “won” with my goal of 15,000 words for Camp NaNoWriMo. But each chapter only gets worse. What’s the last one without:

  1. Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi n Etude~ Casual Romance Club
  2. The Blackmail II: The Animation
  3. The V Games
  4. Slaves To Passion Hana Dorei
  5. Olivia Casta
  6. Dakota Skye

And there’s more…

But I should shut up and wonder how I’ll pay for the next crisis. Virgil’s fur is getting around everywhere. It’s like he’s leaving a trail of his presence, and I’m left to clean up after him. There’s always something. Hello! Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye

1279 Days Without B III, Day 720 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

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Roleplay, Cosplay, and will I even make it to Halloween. With texts from my father and the things I have to do at the Day Job… If I can be real. I wish I were… uh, with Braxton. Which explains Virgil being all cuddly. “Virgil, Don’t B Bad.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 025 ~ B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil~

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Can you read? That’s an “at sign,” not a zero. Yikes! If the GOP gains control, people who aren’t them won’t have reading or math. Then again, I’m reading more books and losing more money. And women, children, and dogs… “B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil”

Friday, July 26, 2024

Meditation 025 ~ B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… though I would prefer to have a heart attack and join Braxton. Read my car bill…

Well, I couldn’t at first and thought it read $1000.00. And that’s after the worker told me it was only $85.00. Remember to read your contracts, kids. But it was $85.00. Still with my cash… And that’s not all. There was a very yummy piggie potato, vittles, and V’s meds.

Needless to say, I feel like I’ve been through an apocalypse—or rather, a car dealership, two BBQ joints, and the pet hospital. So please excuse my tardiness, Lady Sophia.

Apocalypses in any way, shape, or form are welcome. I only figured I’d be riding it out with Braxton. Instead, most days, I’m outside, finding solace in the pages of Pierce Brown’s Morning Star. It’s my escape, my refuge from the chaos of life. And?

And what? “Waiting On The World To Change?” Virgil to learn bathroom etiquette. Book reviews…

Dystopian Girls Good FOUR What?

Well, for starters, four stars. Throw in a loyal dog, and it would be five-star worthy. And didn’t this one have a few dogs? Ah memories. Like how many wives Mason has. What are all the powers they wield? The battles fought. And victories won for the group. And even with all that, it’s the realism… That’s my favorite part. What does that make me? Hmm? Between every encounter Mason has with Stella. Or any of the other girls in his harem. And then the face-offs. Speaking of being face-to-face, I have “some.” friends… Here or there, I could get in on this series, knowing myself and my stance on the end of the world.

I find such comfort in books, Lady Sophia. Until I’m sitting in a waiting room while the car gets fixed. And I get interrupted. I didn’t even tell you about the humiliations galore I suffered at the front desk. A car dealership, a pet hospital, that time I was in junior college and had written about a girl… What waiting room will I find myself in next? And after what tragedy? Virgil is still very young. And regardless of everything, I won’t be explaining to someone why I can’t keep him. It would be like the end of the world. Isn’t that giving me too much credit? I need something because I’m not making money.

Writing and reading what I do. B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil

1272 Days Without B III, Day 713 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

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I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 018 ~Virgil’s B In Satanism~

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Well, my greatest sin isn’t here. Do I really believe that? Well, I’m back to telling myself stories about demon women to sleep. Uh, I could pass out now. But Sloth beats Lust and Envy. And can be forgiven. Braxton being gone… Virgil’s B In Satanism.

Friday, July 19, 2024

Meditation 018 ~Virgil’s B In Satanism~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… About my son, Braxton Barks. He’s part of my routine. There’s also Satan’s Sorority Girls 6, a book I finished reading some time last week. Witchy Yabbos

Do you know that song by the Transplants, ‘Diamonds and Guns?’ It’s a bit like my current existence, a chaotic mix of beauty and mourning. I’m more of a ‘Yabbos and Boys” type of creature, but lately, I feel like a Satanic entity. It’s like I’m heading to Hell. Without a doubt, Lady Sophia.

For what I did to my Braxton? Ignoring him, not listening, and his euthanasia… Sophia. I didn’t mean to get so down right then. But yesterday was a waste. I’m still reading ‘The Hardest Goodbye.’ And I’m so tired. I swear I am fighting off sleep when there is so much to do. Is it any wonder that most of the things I’ve been into this week revolve around death? There’s this movie I want to see, ‘Plan 75,’ a film that explores the complexities of life and death. I made a playlist from the ‘Twilight’ movies, which resonated with me in their portrayal of love and loss. Now Satanism because you know book reviews:

That’s Our “GRAY” Friend Sisters:

Another four-star winner, at least according to this sinner. Then again, nobody’s perfect. Well… Except for Grayson Price, according to his coven and the other. Is Grayson adding to the belt? The book’s greatest strength and weakness is in the following word: formulaic. You read enough Eric Vall books, and you see. Not that I’m an expert. This and Succubus Lord. But there’s reason the three scenes that stand out to me are Fiona and Gray, Robin’s shower scene, and Grayson getting both Julia and Tasha together. Mo getting a girl? I’ve already recommended Eric Vall’s works to one friend. And seeing how she’s into girls too… But one should be into comics. And not looking for twists and turns.

Ok, if I’m done talking about other writers… What about my writing? I did write over 200 words for “Sofía’s Nightmare.” I’m still working on a title. And that could be the thing, Sophia. I’m looking up monsters and all the world’s evils to avoid what I see in the mirror every day. Braxton is my greatest sadness. And being the hand that ended him. Well, that makes him my greatest crime. And I become the villain, the monster, or whatever. If I left this world, I have no doubt Braxton would follow me into the dark. Ok! Enough music.

What about Virgil? He’s back behind the gate as I lament about Braxton. My other sins are Lust, Sloth, and Envy. Virgil’s B In Satanism.

1265 Days Without B III, Day 706 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

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After V’s morning business, I’ll have a cappuccino and an aspirin… What? It beats an energy shot. I haven’t had one in weeks. Simoleons, ducketts, Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Then V got sick. But good night’s sleep. “Virgil, Better B Treatable”

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It all starts with waking up in the morning. I’m not a Bible thumper, but I’m a sinner. I carry a guilt with me every day, a burden I can’t seem to shake. Not ever! My everlasting shame.

As for what I’ve done wrong, it varies from day to day. Let’s start with the worst thing I’ve ever done. 1263 days ago, I watched my firstborn son, my fur buddy, my Braxton, die.

I have to remind myself of that sometimes Inspector Echo. Remind myself? How dare I!

And what about the living? Virgil is right here beside me for once. It’s time to reset that sign to 0 days without painting the floors with… You don’t even want to know E. Eww!

Stomach stew galore. And once again, I was down on my knees. But I wasn’t praying as I once had for Braxton. 704 days with Virgil, and if he were to leave me now, Inspector…

Honestly, I don’t know… Feelings. I’m lost in a sea of emotions and can’t seem to find my way out. I need your understanding and guidance, my dear Inspector Echo.

Even sitting here with Virgil, I need only think of my Braxton Barks if I want to cry. But Inspector, ask me what Virgil gets. I’m tired. And I’m listening to instrumentals. Because I don’t have any words for Virgil. Yesterday was the most attention I’ve paid him in about a week. Between the Simoleon situation, “my story” (I’m trying), and my usual “adult” shenanigans.

Yeah, it usually involves some young woman’s YABBOS. However, the pair I’m currently worried about are M Anime’s. Well, wasn’t that disrespectful? I have to pull myself out of that Nightmare of hers. Or, excuse me, Sofía’s Nightmare. Somebody said something about getting over a woman by turning her into literature. And fur buddies… Maybe.

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.” Lawrence Durrell

No wonder I got inspired.

One woman got me to blog again. Cherry got a novel trilogy. Braxton got his name in over a thousand blog posts and two more novels. M Anime has around 6,000 words at the moment. If I were to ever lose Braxton’s Aunt… who knows? Virgil has a blank slate.

Inspector, I had to do all the cleaning after he got “down with the Sickness.” And now, with a good night’s sleep, all I can do is complain about not getting to nap. So, okay.

Inspector, we’ve established that I’m no good, and no amount of sleep is enough. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I need your support now.

Because there’s no medicine for what I have. Even when I had my son. How about a ‘super’ girl? Several Simoleons? Virgil, Better B Treatable.

1263 Days Without B III, Day 704 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 011 ~Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale~

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Do you know how a story is pretty good and then… Wham! Let’s just say the author makes it not that way. B’s life story was written by me. My existence is written by my old man, etc. And here’s V reviewing my madness. “Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale.”

Friday, July 12, 2024

Meditation 011 ~Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Must I? It’s always the same, my son, something sinful or sad. All the above? I’m lost in this maze of emotions, Sophia, and I need your “light” to guide me.

“I’ve tried to find the key to fifty million fables…” When the answer’s always been my son, Braxton. And he’s not here to tell me anything. Is that why he sent Virgil to me? Ha!

I can’t blame Braxton. I always said that Braxton was my emotional support. I wanted to get him a little vest and everything. But fifteen years was too much for him. I was planning my trip to Heaven when I was younger than him. And now Braxton is pleading my case before God… or whatever. And Virgil, I’m sure, is reporting all my new sins.

Coincidences. Like after yesterday seeing Maxxxine, and I’m speaking about God. Or watching Twilight: Eclipse and thinking on August 13. And here’s another book review:

Twelve In The Backyard Dungeon:

Don’t mind me for thinking something dirty… But Eddie has seven wives and wants to add another notch to the belt. And I’m giving Backyard Dungeon 12, 4 Stars. As with the others, it’s full of warfare, women, and some weirdness. Only at times, it is wickedly complicated. There are so many characters and locations, so the world is whole. My favorite part, besides the women, is the idea of family. From Eddie finding out about… SPOILER, Twins! And having to deal with his parents and his beautiful blue son. Yet, I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone I know. And I’m deeply, irrevocably caught up in the story. It’s too late for me to look away. But I don’t particularly like Eddie. Something about him…

Now that I’m done with that, what would Virgil tell my firstborn son? Daddy’s crazy?

Again, I was at the movies yesterday, and I was thinking about all the religious cult shenanigans in Maxxine. And I questioned what I believe in. For example, atheism vs agnosticism. I would say I don’t believe in God, but that’s because Braxton died, Sophia. And I’ll never believe that a soul like my Braxton would vanish into nothingness, ever. My beliefs are shaken, Sophia, and I struggle to find my footing. So, another day…

What about August 13? That is V’s “Gotcha Day.” But it’s when Edward married Bella.

Even Backyard Dungeon 12. Eddie Hill is expecting twin sons. One he’s naming Virgil. I believe in aliens to zombies. I believe I can write a novel. From M Anime’s Nightmare? Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale

1258 Days Without B III, Day 699 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

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Braxton didn’t discover much of the world, but the little he did know about it, he wanted to rule. The backyard, his spot on the bed, my second best friend’s boobs. I haven’t seen much myself, to be honest. But A.I… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

Wednesday, July 10, 2024

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector Echo, discovery can be strange like that. It’s not wrong all the time to explore, discover, compete…

And to be fearless. If only my son were here. That was a discovery I didn’t want to make. That Braxton wouldn’t live forever. And the Friday I learned, Braxton…

Forgive me, Inspector Echo. Whenever I think of something bad, I must remind myself that I have survived worse. My Little Braxton’s run to The Rainbow Bridge (a place where pets go after they pass away) is the worst thing.

Today, I was crying about something completely different. But it always returns to my B.

And then there’s Virgil. Talk about following your nose or sticking it where it doesn’t belong. But Virgil is my responsibility. And I gave up that fan I bought last year to blow in Braxton’s room and help mitigate the smell. I swear Virgil is afraid to explore the yard.

And I’m scared to discover life. Which leads me to why I was crying this morning. Do you remember Meditation 007, Allowed To Hate Your Birthday? Well, I don’t, Inspector. Anyway, I was thinking about that title today. And I’m about to reach forty. Effing FORTY, Inspector! And what do I have to show for it? Every day, I take another step forward, Inspector Echo.

More like I tiptoe when I should have already made giant leaps. What was I doing yesterday? I was a “Beast of Burden” for the Day Job. I couldn’t wait to get back here and write. But we’ll get to that. I read about fantasy girlies in Dystopian Girls 4. I played The Walking Dead and some other games. As usual, I fell asleep while trying to catch up with wrestling highlights. Roxanne, Kelani, Liv…

And yeah, I had left all the lights on, so I’m awake at two in the morning and have to shut them off. I only woke up late at 5:00 AM and stared at several girls’ “headlights” to wake up. All The Stars, so many. But that’s nothing compared to what has got me going.

I’ve gone from M Anime’s nightmare, which inspired me to write, to a 3000-word story. And now to planning an entire novel. Without an ending…

Inspector. While working on that, I discovered what Artificial Intelligence can do. Right now, it’s only to help me focus, but I’m ready to burn money and my fellow writers.

Whatever it takes for The End… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

1256 Days Without B III, Day 697 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will