I’m not a minuteman. No disrespect to the founders. While I’m here, FDT, eff the Jan 6’ers, eff Buzz Windrip and his Minute Men. Eff Article 5’s Moral Militia, and eff the NFFA. I’m a “Sixty Minute Man” for love. And my boys. “B A Minute Virgil”
Tuesday, June 10, 2025
Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~
Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I hope you do. Virgil doesn’t. I send him downstairs, but if I don’t follow.
Abandoned. Virgil feels as though I’ve abandoned him. Like father, like son. That’s 2-V, ha.
And he feels that at twenty-eight. Well, four. But in dog years, he’s in his twenties, so he’s, in fact, a man. And what, and I am forty? A man. Your man. Husband, a father.
Honestly, I want to be a Tru Rider… “A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider, that’s me.” Oh, you know I’ll go get a motorcycle and join up with the “Biker Boyz.” Hm.
And that’s what I feel like. A boy. I was thirty-six and bawling like a baby when I lost my firstborn son, Braxton. It’s been a minute. How many minutes have there been since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Math, baby…
That’s something I leave to you. I would be more than willing to live by Gus Fring’s word, “A Man Provides.” And I would work forever and a day to take care of our family.
There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. Being afraid. Every minute, every second. FEAR.
I don’t fear clocks or time. I fear I’m wrong that I’m to blame “The World Is Gonna End Tonight” or in the next five minutes. Do you remember when I told you that’s how I dealt with everything? In five minutes, nothing would matter, and I could let everything go.
“I ain’t got time, leave me alone
Ain’t that much time left
I’ve got to funk you now
Chronomentrophobia”
Chronomentrophobia
“Jeezu,” why can’t one of those things be FEAR? Our sons and daughters, sleep and sex, my love. Those moments, minutes, make me fearless.
And I lie here trying to believe tomorrow will be okay. Staind’s “Outside” is better. Beloved, music makes it better. Or at least I can’t hear everything that terrifies me.
Mornings spent here in our bed, love, reading on harems, humans, hellions, hot S&M sex.
Moaning along with you with every effing filthy, freaky fantasy that we can conjure up. Have I mentioned how much I love you? And that I’m happy you’re mine. Happiness…
Momentarily slip up. Me being happy. Ask me to “Be Not So Fearful.” Finding love.
“Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
You must forget them now; it’s done
And when you wake up, you will find that you can run
Be not so sorry for what you’ve done.”
― Be Not So Fearful
Memories of Braxton guarding me as I lie upon this old mattress. Awake and alive.
Making our children happy. Those are the moments that make me smile. That makes me…
Me. Be A Minute, Virgil.
1591 Days Without B III, Day 1032 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will