Tag: Heart

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

Meditation 022 ~B It Yesterday, Virgil~

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What happened to the man she married? She hasn’t met him yet. Or should have met him way before this. Losing B? Depression? Age? I met B III “When We Were Young.” 2V had lost puppy status when we met. But we’re both children. “B It Yesterday, Virgil”

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Meditation 022 ~B It Yesterday, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And let’s get this out of the way. “Honey, why you calling me so late?

It’s 7:30 AM, so where have I been? Would you rather I say I was with a girl or communing with the spirit world? Definitely the latter. After everything yesterday, I fell asleep with all the lights on. Don’t we tell the kids we aren’t made of money? You don’t compare one kid to another, but they should be like Virgil. He was conked out until about 4:00 AM. That’s when I woke up, turned off the lights, and he went running off… Braxton, of course, appeared in my dreams. And that’s why I’m late. Father and son quality time. I miss my B. My beloved “pet” who passed away.

Always and forever. And I wouldn’t have to if I hadn’t failed B. I just read a book saying that’s not true, but still… Belief

Knowledge is stronger than belief. And here I go with my pop culture shtick. I’ve been watching, reading. And yes, writing about men doing whatever was necessary, sacrificing their comfort and desires, to provide for their families. That’s right.

All to provide, protect, and live their purpose. That’s when it comes to their family. A woman’s place is in the home… That’s yesterday’s thinking. I stand on the principle that a man provides for his family. If I’m somebody’s Pa, father, daddy, whatever. I do what must be done. And I don’t need God or an emperor telling me so. B would expect nothing less.

If only I could be who I was when he was here? Well, somehow, someway, I got you. And when anything good happens. That’s B.

Looking at the bad days, I constantly say I survived the worst. I lost my firstborn son, and I survived. It doesn’t make me stronger, and Virgil can tell you I’m not smarter. But I’m here. I am always here. And that’s not enough, forever. You deserve more, my love.

Inevitably, I open my eyes and see men that do such things with love. Sometimes they succeed, sometimes they fail. But all I know of myself, this father, friend, and fellow you married, is someone who forgets how to put one foot in front of the other. Like following Braxton. And I stopped doing that 1269 days ago. I need to lead our children. I need to walk beside you. Now? B It Yesterday, Virgil.

1269 Days Without B III, Day 710 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

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Phone, Wallet, Keys? But there is money in the wallet. There’s “my” glasses. I look in the mirror, and… that’s uglier than what I put in “my” story. I’d be pretty enough with a dog like Braxton and a good girl. But “Money Is A Man’s Makeup”

Monday, July 22, 2024

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Much like Donald Trump’s face. You’ll have to forgive me. One more week of Trump pics… Eww! But what if I could break the rules that confine me, like the societal norms that dictate my actions, Madam?

If only I could be that much of a grifter. Or if I had thought to use my son, Braxton. I don’t share his and Virgil’s faces to make a buck. I shared Braxton’s pictures because I miss my boy. When it comes to Virgil, it’s so everyone knows that he’s still alive. A miracle?

Madam Justice, all it takes is money, and I had so much of that today, Thursday, July 11, 2024. So if I’m telling you that, by the time you read this, I’m out trying to make a lot more, Madam. And today, between Maxxxine, Moments of “Pleasure” and a Manuscript.

Madam, we’ll get to that. But my son and my boy, Braxton and Virgil. They’re not just my “sons.” They’re the only things that showed that I’m a good person…

But when have I ever cared about that? As I was watching Maxxxine today… Maxine Minx is an adult actress who wants to go mainstream and gets hired for a horror flick. I went in the other direction. I figured I could do poetry. And again, it wasn’t for money. It was to break free from the societal expectations that bind me. Vis-a-vis love, no…

Madam, “What you won’t do, do for love.” I thought to erase my face behind pretty words. Where did that get me? The Dean, the DEA, I’m sure “Beelzebub has a Devil put aside for me.” What I’m trying to say is this. If I got in trouble for words I thought were sweet, why not write the horrors, harems, and horrible desires? I could become the monster everyone sees.

But I could hide, become, and dare I say it? LIVE if I had money! Money is the root of all evil. So, let it grow all around me. My garden of Eden to shield everyone from The Tree of Knowledge. That being what I am. I’m starting to sound like one of those people.

Madam, in the end, we’re all hiding who we are anyway. Anybody with money is only prettying themselves up. But then again, Braxton and Virgil never have a dime, Madam. My boys are handsome. Only yeah, I’m paying their way. With what eighteen bucks? Ha!

The world is so ugly at the moment. Like my new manuscript and the software I got. My Glow-Up? Hmm. Money Is A Man’s Makeup

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

1268 Days Without B III, Day 709 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 015 ~B’s Accidental Bedroom, Virgil~

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I just want to go to sleep. Waking up? Eww! And bedtime… whenever that is. It’s awesome. But everything in the middle sucks. Missing my boy. Messing up manuscripts. And checking out the mountains. When B wasn’t around. B’s Accidental Bedroom, Virgil.

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

Meditation 015 ~B’s Accidental Bedroom, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My love for you is deep and unwavering, my Dear. I hope you always feel that. But love, as they say, is a journey. And sometimes, I worry that I’m not moving fast enough on this road of love. Is that my roundabout way of saying why I’m late today?

Better me than you, right? I love all our children, my Dear. And I know you do, too. Virgil is still with us. And I don’t plan on giving him up… ever. But as far as looking for a dozen…

I am not. Now, fifteen is my favorite number… And there it goes. I find myself constantly drawn back to my firstborn son. My Little Braxton. When he left “me,” B III was fifteen, on the brink of his sweet sixteen. It’s a pain that never truly goes away. I miss him every single day, Baby Girl. Always and forever.

THEY say never go to bed angry. I come to bed hot, hard, and pretty hurriedly. The first two are for you. But I do love my sleep. And sometimes, I don’t dream about Braxton.

Braxton doesn’t belong here anymore…

What I mean is this? My son has a lot of comfy spots. A box on the nightstand. The Rainbow Bridge? There’s the place in my dreams. You know, the big fluffy mattress surrounded by food, with one open side so he can run out into the sunlight and play. The last? There’s the dream of him on the beach with us. You and me, we have three two-legged legged-kids and two four-legged-kids. Five kids total. But I keep looking at Virgil. And I think.

I should stop thinking in bed. This is a place of rest. But today, I was late because I was busy writing here. This got me thinking about everything I shouldn’t be doing in bed. Yet, here I am, love.

Crying? Once a man has a family, he shouldn’t cry in bed. I would save it for the car. But where exactly am I going this week? And what about crying in one of the chairs downstairs? Don’t cry to give up. Cry to keep going. That’s from Eric Thomas.

Motivations? It doesn’t help to listen to them while sitting in bed. I should go back to listening to Bikini Days from Audible. Oh! That’s another thing. I shouldn’t be spending money in bed. Not when I have you, Baby Doll, saying, Oh my God! Was that a joke? Anyway, I don’t kneel on the floor beside our bed either… praying? God didn’t save Braxton.

Depression? Dreams? Ding Dong. Lost to B’s Accidental Bedroom, Virgil.

1262 Days Without B III, Day 703 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 014 ~Just Kidding Is No Excuse~

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What are SOME of the worst sounds in the world? My son’s last breath. The silence when his heart stopped beating, and I came back alone. My breathing, realizing I’m alive. The alarm clock. Laughter! And then, “Just Kidding.” Just Kidding Is No Excuse

Monday, July 15 2024

Meditation 014 ~Just Kidding Is No Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… and jokes are meant to be funny. How I wish it were true; a comedian died today.

Better myself than my son. And people might think it’s funny to die for my son Braxton or to kill for him. I am/was his daddy. That’s my job, and I failed Madam. No doubt.

Braxton’s absence is a reality I wish I could turn into a joke. I wish I could jest that I’m the biggest bully and that his return is imminent. But it’s not a joke. Braxton is gone. And with him, the laughter and joy he brought. I would give anything for him to return and reclaim his place, even if it meant Virgil had to leave. Braxton might reconsider… It’s a cruel joke, this reality.

That’s what I called it when I heard Braxton’s voice tell me to save Virgil’s life. Virgil must think his life is a joke, and soon, he’ll have a better human rescue him. Poor Virgil.

When I’m not telling Virgil, No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’m asking him if he is kidding. I take him outside four times a day. We’re out there for twenty minutes. Only for him to decide to “go” in the house. And every time I lay down… I swear, Madam. Braxton would cuddle close to ensure I was safe and then take his post on the corner of the bed to protect me. I know Virgil is not Braxton reborn because Virgil jumps off the bed and leaves.

The demands of my Day Job are like a joke, forcing me to bend to its will. I look at my schedule for this week and the next, and I wonder, where’s my relief? That’s why I’m reaching out now.

Time may be on my side, but the reality is that I’m in a desperate financial situation. I’m left with no choice but to plead for more work hours. It’s not a joke, Madam. I need money if Virgil and I are to have a meal after today, Wednesday, July 10, 2024. And to earn it, I should write, which also requires some financial investment.

Well, if that website I found is any indication. I could even attend Camp NaNoWriMo.

Now, that’s the biggest joke of all. My existence. Every morning, I wake up Madam telling myself I’m going to Live Brave, Do Better, Be A Man. The Man in the Mirror is a bully!

And I’m just kidding when I fail, like today or Monday. But no, Dear Madam, Just Kidding Is No Excuse.

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

1261 Days Without B III, Day 702 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will