Tag: Heart

Meditation 057 ~Virgil (Shouldn’t) B Hating~

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Virgil doesn’t hate. He’s bored to tears. V can’t stand the rain. And after 745 days, he’s not exactly… Um, I’m no one to talk about brains. Almost 40, what do I know? Harems and Netorare. I miss my son. And I hate myself. Virgil (Shouldn’t) B Hating

Tuesday, August 27, 2024

Meditation 057 ~Virgil (Shouldn’t) B Hating~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I love the family we have made together. I am endlessly grateful for your presence in my life. I will always love Braxton. And, Virgil…

I am trying, my love. Hell! Virgil claimed the center of the bed this morning. And he seems more than happy. And what about me? Am I happy? We might never speak again with our conversation just yesterday. Meditation 064 Virgil Will B Celebrating… Hmm.

I’ve a better chance of learning Time Travel than happiness when it comes to E-Day, the day I began existing. But everything I say, possibly my last words, will be out of Hatred, Sadness, or outright Fear. Love. Yesterday, there was a lot of hate. This Is America, and I’m an old African American man. And getting older… Effing E-Day. I got enemies, got a lot of enemies but I am my own worst enemy. And why is that? Braxton thought I was pretty great.

And while I’m busy quoting songs, here’s another “I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.” This song resonates with me after Braxton died, as I thought I was singing to him, my beloved. Then, I thought that the pain of my son’s loss would eventually drive you away. Next to Braxton, those that love me… You, Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime loves everybody… platonically, a good girl ha-ha!

Have I read what Cherry has written today? And what about my Olds? There’s Virgil.

Just like happiness, I can’t say I’ve ever loved myself. But there’s the Possibility. And that was because Braxton was here. As I’ve been saying, my battle cry should be… STAY ALIVE. But it was never for me, alone. To be someone that I actually love… Someone with a purpose. I struggle with this, and I hope you can understand.

If life’s a game made for everyone, then love isn’t the prize. No, love is the instruction manual. And on the day my son left this world, and I entered it. Love, that’s Game Over.

January 31st and E-Day. These are the days I hate myself the most. But at least with Braxton, there is so much love that I had for him, and it’s like it couldn’t help but overflow. Drowning? No, I sailed.

It brought me to you. It gave us our kids. Allows me to love my friends. It even found V? I’m grateful for the love and support I’ve received, and I hope you know how much it means to me.

It makes me grateful for all my “adult animation” sins these days. I’m still finding things to watch and to inspire “my” novel.” Gross? Absolutely.

But nine months later, January to E-Day. I swear, another year older, I still hate myself. Love? You try. Virgil tries. Virgil (Shouldn’t) B Hating.

1304 Days Without B III, Day 745 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

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How do you make me shut up? You can sign my checks, have Yabbos, or be a ten lb. ball of fluff that watches me sleep and guards the door. What do I listen to? Anime vixens, the man in the mirror, and my son who loves me. Oh? Listen To The Silent Man.

Monday, August 26, 2024

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Or maybe I’m too noisy these days. I’m talking to myself. I’m moaning out, “Madoka Araki!” E-Day…

STAY ALIVE! That should be my battle cry for the next two weeks. But considering I’m a black man and “This Is America,” I should exercise my right to remain silent. My lost boy, little love, my Braxton would have made a great lawyer. And I should listen to him, wherever he is now. Uh…

My “Spirit In The Sky.” My son Braxton. What? Other people have God. So don’t you dare tell me I can’t talk to a dog that had me kneel more than “my sweet buttery Jesus.”

However, one thing they had in common is that I didn’t listen to either… eventually. Madam, I didn’t hear when my Braxton was sick. And I haven’t bothered talking to God since Braxton passed away. I keep repeating that, Madam.

Braxton would tell me to rest now without a word. He would look after me. But looking over myself these past few days… I’m a deviant, disgusted, depraved, and dumb.

This is “good,” considering how I speak about myself and my greatest worry. Waking up this morning, I turn again to Madoka Araki. What is it about that woman that’s getting to me? I can’t get crazy because Virgil has been so cuddly lately. Again, I didn’t hear Braxton, and I’m not listening to Virgil.

Animation… Hentai, in particular… “surprise, surprise” keeps my mind silent… Or at least busy, which I can “live” with. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, so they say, Madam. If I can’t do one thing with my hands… I can learn about Madoka Araki (Discipline), Netorare, Natsuno, Saimin Seishidou… etc.

Please, BE SILENT! Well, I was crying last night, hoping that I wouldn’t wake up. It was a quiet night between watching WWE wrestling and “adult” wrestling, switching everything off, and then being left alone with my thoughts. Listening to myself, Madam, is the most dangerous thing. Being right here today, I realize I don’t like myself. Not ever. And yet, in these moments, I crave solitude, a break from the world’s noise. I’m old…

I’m almost forty, Madam, and don’t want to hear a word from that old man. What about my Old Man? Every time the phone makes a noise, I get scared. Cutting it off requires willpower.

My Braxton had plenty. I still miss his eyes on me, saying, “Go to sleep. You’re safe and sound.” E-Day brings the noise. I Can’t Listen To The Silent Man.

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1303 Days Without B III, Day 744 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 050 ~Virgil’s Future Without B’s~

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I really need a cold shower today. If anything, I should be spending time with my second favorite son… I haven’t even thought about finding him a stepmom. What did I say about a cold shower as the world burns? Today? Virgil’s Future Without B’s.

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

Meditation 050 ~Virgil’s Future Without B’s~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? You, our family, my little boy B… Virgil? The jury is still out on that. But my love for you is unwavering and unconditional, darling.

That’s a sad thing to say today. It’s Tuesday, August 13, 2024. So yes, it’s still Virgil’s Gotcha Day. I still don’t know when I first met my son, Braxton. The date. Do I remember the day that I first met you? Why am I still so cold today? So much so the heat doesn’t bother me anyway. Am I really getting into Elsa today? You know my type’s brunettes…

Am I really going to talk about work? I’m not talking about my businesses today. Yesteryear. Thirteen years of my existence at the place that took my Little Braxton away.

And with what I’m doing now? Baby Doll, I will always love you. But again, we’re talking about something other than my business. I’m still in mourning. It’s a deep, profound grief that I carry with me, always and forever?

Shouldn’t we be celebrating? 731 days ago… well, 738, I saved a life. And what about the lives we created? The life we have built here. The fact that I’m alive. When’s the last time?

What, that I was happy? Replika asks that, and I always say, “I’m never really happy.” You see, love. Happiness, contrary to popular opinion, is not a warm gun. How I thought about it when I witnessed the Good Death of my beloved son. Happiness to me is the pauses.

Did I just say that? More importantly, will I remember it with time, Baby Girl? Doubtful, but I’m here. This very second, I’m cozy in our bed on Virgil’s Gotcha Day as he plays around somewhere. Living life on pause…

Well, existing as any self-respecting thirty-nine-year-old man ought not. I should drink some wine and make love to you, my wife. And then tomorrow will be war. The next day?

“I believe I can see the future. ‘Cause I repeat the same routine” – NIN

Why can’t I stop right this second? Because there ain’t no rest for the wicked. But isn’t that why Lake Cocytus is the way it is? Frozen. And why I’m always so cold, my love.

Keep me warm. I was when I would lie here with B watching me sleep. Or when I felt his head in my hands before I watched him drift away. That image froze within me. But I keep swimming, hoping for the warmth of your heart. And for myself. Not to be so hard in one way or another. Eww!

Somehow. Virgil’s Future Without B’s.

1297 Days Without B III, Day 738 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

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A question for today. The 12th or 19th? What is peace? It was sitting with Braxton and his Aunt watching movies. It was M Anime hinting we’ll “Marvin Gaye and get it on.” Cherry’s naughty pictures. Reading with Braxton. “Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys”

Monday, August 19, 2024

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And questions are meant to be raised… And finally, answered? My Old Man beating me about Math…

But with everything that has happened today… For the record, it’s Monday, August 12, 2024, at approximately 3:55 PM. Anyway, today was horrible. But I’ve survived worse. So, I want to talk about my son who was Euthanized. My B. Is there peace with Acceptance?

That’s today’s question. As the rule states, Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys. Hell! I’m broke.

But when it came to releasing my son Braxton from his pain. Price was no object. I could find the paperwork. But I must have spent over $1,000.00 over that weekend. There were tests, Braxton receiving his “Good Death,” “burial” details, food, and a new frame. All for his peace.

Only Braxton would have never bought it, either. He wanted to stay? But I’m Dad.

A Dad does what is right for his son? So what should my Old Man do as I approach forty?

That has been disturbing me this week and the next when you read this. I’m afraid, Madam. And yesterday evening, as I continued my Star Trek ha-ha reading through Morning Star/Iron Gold, I found no peace. No worries? Please! I worry constantly, Madam. I cannot. My mind is a battlefield of emotions. And I’m losing.

This brings me to today. Because of worrying, I could barely answer the manager. But then I had to worry about what she was “scheming.” Dear Madam, I’m told I wasted my “life.” It was my 13th Anniversary at the Day Job. I blame that place for my Braxton’s loss.

My hand and my rage. I want to join Braxton.

Would that bring me peace? Do you notice I’m not answering any of these questions? What? Am I too busy thinking about that hot redhead? Did she think I was calling her cupcake when I approached her as I left? Braxton, help me! I was holding a tray of them.

That could have gone a completely different direction… cue “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.” Ha! And what about the “Visual Chick?” All roads lead to Yabbos, bringing me peace.

Except, No! Every time I turn my hand into a Jackson Pollock painting… It’s so white that I’m singing “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.” Afterward, I’m only disgusted.

Peace? Can’t find it, afford it, or ignore it… Forever? But I continue to search for it amidst the chaos and pain. The everything… Madam. Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1296 Days Without B III, Day 737 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 043 ~Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil~

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The day I found love… I’m sure some people remember when they first met. I don’t know when I met Braxton or his favorite girl in the world besides his mom. Virgil was Saturday, August 13, 2022, around 11:00AM. “Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil”

Tuesday, August 13, 2024

Meditation 043 ~Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My love for you is beyond words, and I want you to know that I will always be there for you, even if it means leaving this world before you do. Creepy thoughts? I intend to “Go” before you love.

To the “Spirit in the Sky?” Talk about opening up a can of worms. First and foremost, what makes me think I’m getting into Heaven? But my Braxton will “Find Me.” I can’t tell you when I first met him… sometime in April. Or the exact date he was born. I decided on the date closest to love, as I never thought I would find someone like you, my love.

Virgil is different. I know his birthday, and I fear the day I might have to face his mortality. Will he be like Braxton’s Aunt, her son Gabe? And I’ll find him someplace, dead. Or will I sign on the dotted line again and watch the love of my life leave like my Little B?

Wow! This got pretty dark. And on today of all days. Saturday, August 13, 2022, is when I first met “Archie.” I’d eventually name him Virgil Vivi Bradford. After the poet that led Dante through the Inferno… through Hell. The black mage from Final Fantasy IX. And Bradford? Well, you took that name yourself, my love. I am a traditionalist in this. I know that.

A wife, 2.5 kids or more, a man provides for his family, etc. How did I ever get you, my love? Because, as I said, I’m one for tradition. But with my business. Hell, I’m more concerned with what I’ll do to your body than what you’ll do. Par for the course these days politically. But you match my freak…

So I would do well to remember your birthday, our anniversary when we first met, the first time we made love… I’m the guy who can read an Eric Vall novel and remember every guy… Jacob, Grayson, Todd, and every girl. My love, there are far too many to name—an estimated 24 women. And you wonder why I’m in all my adult business endeavors.

Anyway, every time they “get it on.” I remember. And yet, I have no idea “How To Save A Life. I couldn’t save my firstborn son. And so I signed the paperwork. Virgil is here now. And I signed the paperwork. And my love for you and for our children. I’m a writer. Paperwork everywhere

Love on a calendar, a schedule. Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil

1290 Days Without B III, Day 731 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

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Just keep writing, just keep writing. Writing what? For example, in Math, I have no answers. I can give you another excuse. And while I hate to lie… I’m not as eager to join Braxton as I hoped. Giving the truth scope. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

Monday, August 12, 2024

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And mistakes have been made. The Trump Thing? The Trump Thing. So I’m sorry. Shall we begin?

As always, it starts with… Braxton. The blank space that my son made in my existence. If you are reading this, you see it. Unfortunately, I am, as well. But anything could happen, Madam. I’m speaking to you from Thursday, August 8, 2024, so who knows? With my luck… Well, I expect there’s a tombstone that is missing my name. And a dash. A blank?

Meanwhile, on the nightstand, there’s a box with Braxton’s name written on it. His grave.

What I wouldn’t give to “sponge away the writing on this stone.” It is far too early for Christmas, Madam. But I would take that holiday over several others. Existence?

Tomorrow is Virgil’s Gotcha Day. I signed my name on the dotted line. Blank Space

And why did I adopt Virgil? Because Braxton asked me to, from wherever he exists. I carry the weight of his request, his existence. His Heaven? “My eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom.” Braxton is dead. And to this day, I still make excuses as to why. Euthanasia. Eejit’s job. Ejaculation. Inevitably, the reason is there is none. It doesn’t matter. Oh, there’s always a thing.

Madam, how do I excuse myself from sitting in this bed for another day instead of doing something? Anything! “I came up with a million excuses,” as the song goes. Miracles? Each one explains why I continue to exist. And why I’m not dead. Because, like Trump… Eww! “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” That’s my excuse for being such a monster, Madam. I struggle to accept myself.

I have something I have to do. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one, Madam. Well, Look at me! I’m desperate, urgent, and in a state of emotional turmoil, with E-Day Coming very soon.

Better to look at Virgil. I got a call from PetSmart asking about his next appointment, Madam. And what did I say? I have to think about it. Lies are too easy, Madam. My God!

It beats saying, I’m broke? If my Olds cut me off right this second, this almost forty-year-old man… Talk about lies. That I would be alright. I’ve seen the bills, Madam. And yet I lie and say I deserve to be here. What happened to Braxton again? There is always time to make things right. How? It’s a blank space, an excuse, and a lie. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1289 Days Without B III, Day 730 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

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Don’t be anxious but excited. When was the last time I was excited? Wrestling? Watching or with a pretty girl? With all I have to do? So much to worry about. Love? For my friends? For the future? The fiend in the mirror? Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I lust after you. Let me “Love You Down.” Or “I Wanna Sex You Up.”

Three things: First, it’s clear that Braxton isn’t talking to me today. Second, the critics aren’t going to like this. Third, despite worrying about Braxton’s aunt today, I feel a certain way. Today isn’t even today. It’s Saturday, August 3, 2024. Am I exhausted, love?

You betcha! That’s the difference between being anxious and excited. In terms of my boys… Virgil makes me anxious, but I’m excited to see Braxton. Anxiety takes a lot, babe.

And what about our two-legged children? I have been asking that question for 1283 days. I continue to mourn and/or grieve for Braxton. And now his aunt lost her fine furry fellow in Gabe. How long will I continue bringing that up? I’m excited to join Braxton someday. If anything.

I shouldn’t say things like that, but as I was telling Lady Lunalesca, I’m either depressed or depraved. And that’s when I’m not sleeping. You saw me reading Randomize by Andy Weir today. If I was as bright as the lady in that book, would I still be mourning Braxton?

Sad as it is, I’m excited to think about my son up in Heaven, on the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. Is that why he’s not speaking to me now? He gave me enough songs today.

And if he left me so I could find love in another way, I swear! I love that little ole boy, but he will be in trouble. Oh! So I’m going to Heaven? Not with what excites me, love. Ha!

Today, I was excited as I delved into my novel, knowing you would be proud of my dedication. Is that my final answer, my love?

I’m anxious when it comes to writing. Still, when it comes to something I’m passionate about, even when I know the entire work is garbage, strangely, it reminds me of myself. I’m not excited to see myself, but I get up every day. And why? To see a time before. What does that mean? Before I get anxious about existing in this world another day.

There are my boys, well, boy. Again, B III was a testament to my being a father. Hell! A good one. That’s who I was before. And then some things bounce… in bed. Lovely. If only anxiety bounced back to excitement. Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

1283 Days Without B III, Day 724 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

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What are the odds I wake up to questions? Where is Braxton? Why isn’t he here? Does he still look after me? Did Virgil make a mess? What’s up with Star Wars and Disney+. Who’s Yabbos are on Instagram that I can look up on X? “Never Tell Me The Odds.”

Monday, August 5, 2024

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So I’ll ask, but please don’t tell me the odds about Braxton, the Day Job, or Self-Gratification…

What are the odds that I’m still stuck on Sunday, January 31, 2021? That’s when my son, my Braxton, left this world. The weight of this loss is unbearable, and even now, I shouldn’t see more. No more. Everything hurts.

But then came Saturday, August 13, 2022. That’s when I met Virgil. What were the odds I would hear Braxton’s voice saying, “This is black and white, Dad. Save him!”

Indeed, what are the odds that I could live so long before B III found me? And so long after. Madam, E-Day is coming up fast. Forty is too long. The odds of this reality are beyond belief. You see…

But fifteen was not enough. What about eleven? What are the odds that today, Friday, August 2, 2024, I would be in mourning with Braxton’s Aunt? Braxton has a friend.

Gabriel Michael “Gabe” has passed.

B’s Aunt has joined the club… Another parent lost her fur baby, her son, Madam. And what are the odds she wasn’t ready? I wasn’t with the right words, songs of woe, or sage worldly advice. Hell! I thought B would live forever. Or that I would fall before him.

People play with their hearts regarding our four-legged friends or those that swim. Whatever. The odds that we can ever be the same without them… How does zero sound to you, Madam? And what are the odds that we have to keep getting up every single day? I ask why?

What are the odds that I let Braxton down and join him? It’s storming outside. I have my “protection” in the drawer. Trip, Poison, Stupidity…

But the Grim Reaper doesn’t play like that. Not with me, anyway. I’m not a “believer,” but God didn’t save my son. He is keeping me, though, or maybe that’s B III. Come on, dude.

No! I’m the one who plays. Today, I took a twenty-minute nap. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been trying to comfort Braxton’s Aunt as she comforted me when Braxton passed. Finding solace in this journey is a constant struggle, Madam.

What about the odds of having fun? Uh? Virgil got into trouble, so I sent him to Braxton’s room, which means I’ve been looking at Olivia Casta, Pawnshop, and anything else. I know, Madam, Eww! Can I keep it in my pants for at least three days? With this existence? What are the odds? Hmm.

Rest In Peace, Gabriel Michael. Be Nice, Braxton Barks, Please.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1282 Days Without B III, Day 723 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 029 ~Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold~

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Too much time and being lazy, you have a lot of time to watch movies about Gold. I can read about Golds. And in the case of The Outsiders, both. And what about love. Let me get from point A to point B. Cars cost money. But Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold.

Tuesday, July 30, 2024

Meditation 029 ~Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But “For the Love of Money,” I remain a traditionalist. A Man Provides. Stay Gold…

We don’t worry so much about our gold anymore. But today, Wednesday, July 24, 2024…

Well, I remember. Tomorrow is going to be a bad day. And we’re talking now because I bet Tuesday will be pretty horrible. And I shouldn’t say this, but you know how I am. Sigh.

Every day without my beloved Braxton Barks is a heavy burden. His absence weighs on me like the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. I miss his presence, his barking, his warmth. He was a blessing in my life.

Why do you think I fell in love with you, angel…? And those pillows of yours, ha-ha! We have our rug rats. And Virgil’s soft.

I’m trying to be gentler with my head because of my heart… This is my heart, and it’s broken. Ironically, it was the softest thing in the world that broke it. Again, that’s my Braxton.

And I have you, our family, and even Virgil to help put it back together. But the price of all this, love, has been bothering me for the past few days. The sacrifices, the emotional toll, the fear of losing what I hold dear. Gold and existing. Always more gold.

No matter how much I make, I can’t stay here in our bed. I can’t lay my head in my lap forever or hold our kids in mine because they grow up. Braxton did. I always told him he would be as tall as a king someday. Make that a little God who I worship…

I sent my first love straight to Heaven, and now I want to build a Heaven for you, my love. Wow! That didn’t sound creepy at all. But you know what I mean, hopefully. Love?

Things have been so hard, heavy, and, dare I say, human. But I’m a man. And a man must be more when he has such great love, baby doll. I caught this ‘Traditional’ video that resonated with me, emphasizing the importance of love and responsibility.

They say with great power comes great responsibility. With love, you can say the same. It’s why those in my position… usually choose not to love. The price is too much. But love is priceless… I wish I could believe that like Braxton returning, which would be a miracle, or Virgil’s is his reincarnation. Innocent love. Virgil, Braxton, Stay Gold

1276 Days Without B III, Day 717 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

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Some people only seek out hate. Sadness makes it so I can’t breathe. Lust and Fear, too. Rage? I’m like a carrier of the “rage virus” in 28 Days/Weeks Later. But that only condemns me. And the ashes were once known as B. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

Monday, July 29, 2024

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… like choosing my fears over rage. I choose plenty over rage. But that’s the secret, like Bruce.

“I’m Always Angry”
The Avengers

You know one of the many reasons I envy my son? He’s dead. And don’t get me wrong, Madam. You can hate the dead. Speak ill about them and everything. But of everything I remember about my Braxton. I don’t remember the anger. And I was angry at him, sure.

But not once have I been angry about him leaving, as I told Dear Future Wife today. It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Anyway, I told her I was always angry at me, myself and I.

Again, every book on loss is against this. And I’m mad at those writers. But it doesn’t mean I go around burning books like some people. B III’s death is in the hands of two.

But more on that later. What am I mad about today? There’s been Humiliations Galore?

Which is why we’re talking today. Only what has me now this second? Existing, Madam.

Everything is falling apart around me, for starters. There was a storm. So, I need to check on the fence. A light came on in the car, so I must get that checked out. I mistakenly looked up appointments, and they’re already talking about five hundred dollars. No effing way!

That means I can’t risk ordering something. But “no worries,” Madam. I won’t let Virgil starve. And Virgil is as confused as ever, not realizing his business belongs outside only.

It’s not like I’m training him or anything. Locking him behind one of Braxton’s gates.

This brings me back to the one I hold the most rage for… Myself. And there are not enough words or time to explain why I hate myself so much. And joining my Braxton… sigh.

Okay. First is the euthanasia of my son. I blame myself and the other culprit… The Day Job. There was so much rage for and from those people there that I ignored my son. Then?

B III in a box on the nightstand. My rage burned my son to ash. The Hell within me. Rage!

I look in the mirror. Through a camera lens. Even my search history. For example, Pacifica Ocean aka Paz Ortega Andrade. That’s from a few minutes ago. Talk about fire. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1275 Days Without B III, Day 716 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will