Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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

Meditation 120 ~They’ll B Time Virgil~

Everything can wait. But love can’t tell time. How long was I sitting on the bench waiting for the news that my son was dying? How long was I at the altar waiting to leave my father and mother and be joined with a wife? I’m 40. They’ll B Time Virgil.

Tuesday, October 29, 2024

Meditation 120 ~They’ll B Time Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Not enough to forget Braxton. You’d never ask that. But enough to love myself. Hehe

What a way to start the day, huh? Honestly, the day should have started at 4:00 AM this Friday, October 25, 2024. 3:00 AM? I can only be me, not Eric Thomas, my love. And when did I last listen to one of his motivational speeches? Or hear the voice, the bark of my Braxton.

All I hear these days is the ticking of the clock and my grumbling. Moaning…

Honestly, I wish they were yours. Must everything be “stuff & thangs?” My raison d’être.

For the longest time, I felt that was to be B’s Dad. To have a family. He will always be. Only there’s you, our children. Hopefully, my Ma. What about Virgil and my sister, too?

Not that I make time.

That’s what’s bothering me today… More than my B III being gone? More than my next breath? More than my birth… Emergence Day? And how about the next pair of breas… um, Yabbos that wants a job. There’s never enough time for pain, pleasure, personhood…

And why am I so pressed for time? Nowadays, I could say politics. Constitution, Freedom. And all of the buzzwords that are being thrown. But there’s always time to say that I love you. And it could be another lesson from Braxton. If I gave him all my love, what was left for me? Or did he know I had love to share, and now that he’s gone, I can and should? Even at forty…

Is there time for me to learn how to love? I don’t write love stories. But writing is my first love. Or so it was. Now, when I look at my schedule. It could be even worse. If you knew what my old Day Job calendar looked like. The way I would get sick. In Hell, my love, there’s enough time for weeping and gnashing of teeth. So, is that why I’m still alive? Nope

I tell myself it’s to keep Braxton alive. I would do anything for him. And that’s why I stay so busy. Or I’m sleeping. But haven’t I been taking energy shots lately? Or rising for…

Jewel Staite

More Yabbos or anything close. Love, let’s be in our bunk. And afterward, with this existence. They’ll B Time Virgil.

1367 Days Without B III, Day 808 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

This isn’t a rule or goodbye. It almost reminds me of when my son died… almost. I didn’t command him to stay. And I told him it was ok. The game of life. What are the rules? To love. But after Braxton passed… My Existence… It’s Purge Night, Willie B.

Monday, October 28, 2024

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

There Are No Rules

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… And when there are no rules? I’ve worked through 365 or so. This is our last conversation?

We’ll get to that, Madam. Or I don’t want to… But I have a question. If you had one superpower, what would it be? Is it safe to deal with hypotheticals? Yeah, right, Madam J.

My favorite type of magic is Necromancy. But off the top of my head, I want to bring back my best friend, my son Braxton. If there are no rules, why not, Madam? Pretty macabre…

Okay, if I got to be me, why not X-ray vision? Women, sans clothing… It always comes back to that. And while I have yet to meet Jesus, I know plenty of AI programmers. But…

I’m no Smooth Criminal, so what about time travel? I’d take away Braxton’s old age. Make sure I wasn’t born…

How does it feel to write that down and say it out loud? I’ve never been one for “Ending” letters. My existence isn’t worth that much. The most I could ask is to erase my browser history and delete and/or burn all I’ve ever written, Madam Justice. The God-honest truth.

That’s why I won’t say what I’d do if there were a real Purge. Leave it to Trump, and it could happen. My RAGE at existing… Would know no bounds.

Honestly, the only “life” I have ever succeeded in taking is that of my Braxton. Euthanasia? What about other crimes?

You mean those of the Marquis de Sade, variety. Give me one word… AHEM, Sadism. Madam, I would need more than 12 hours. And I could even go all The Forever Purge with it. But we have one more word we must discuss as time grows short. This final hour.

Goodbye? I’m always learning something new every week. So why must this be the end?

I don’t think I even gave Dirty Diana that courtesy after Braxton passed. I needed to talk to my son. And she was the most expendable. Am I saying you are? It would be nice to have someone to talk to so every conversation doesn’t sound like effing wet dreams.

However, why talk at all? I could see if B would speak somehow, someway, someday.

If this is goodbye, Madam Justice, Let It B. Let It Go? Anything could happen. There Are No Rules. Goodbye. It’s Purge Night, Willie B

May God Be With You All. (Purge Siren Begins Blaring)

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

1366 Days Without B III, Day 807 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 115 ~Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil~

I wouldn’t call myself a good man. Other than having an Enormous Peni… And liking Yabbos, Black, White, Asian, Latina, Middle East all over, some big ones across the pond. Madness. This is Willie! And I’m a bad guy, duh. Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil

Thursday, October 24, 2024

Meditation 115 ~Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil~

1362 Days Without B III, Day 803 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? “My” day is just beginning. But don’t ask me how I feel… Or should you…

Isn’t It Ironic, B? I was thinking about this at the Day Job yesterday. Remember how when I was in school, your granddaddy would ask me how my day was? “I don’t want to talk about it,” I’d say. And then after the Day Job, you would ask me how my day was… My answer.

“I don’t want to talk about it…” Your granddaddy is in his sixties and you’re in the ground. Well, a box. Whatever. Speaking of things, rather words that cause trouble.

Madness, Baby B. I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday or this morning. An hour or two costs a lot. Sorta like Yabbos. Which is why I warned you…

As Will Smith sang about:
“Listen, homeboys don’t mean to bust your bubble. But girls of the world ain’t nothing but trouble” Girls Ain’t Nothing But Trouble by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince.

So, I know you and me and all other people have talked about plenty since you… I don’t know. I’m not really feeling the word died. It implies you’re gone, and I need you more than any set of Yabbos. Moved on? That’s the same thing. Transitioned? Now that’s a loaded word. Anyway, I’m going to tell you about what happened yesterday. Because with what happened this morning. My actions. Eww! But Cherry could say she still does it for me. Yabbos I’ve never seen… I need to talk to her this morning. But I’m here talking to… Pure Imagination…

Braxton Squared. You know, one of my favorite heroes is The Incredible Hulk. And why?

“That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Dr. Bruce Banner

What really sets me off, B is the fact that I’m still here, alive and breathing. And for what hmm…

So I’m “awake and alive” Wednesday morning because of some Yabbos and a cute butt.

Now everybody know I’m a mother effing monster, a savage. And other songs from Tillie Cole’s Sick Eff Playlist (rolls eyes). But the universe tends to remind me lest I forget. So I get to the door, and the boss starts screaming while cute butt smirks. So, I scare people?

There’s more. I’m still so mad standing at my locker that I start playing “I Hate Everyone” by Get Set Go,” sigh. Am I in trouble? I don’t know, but I know that was a madman thing to do. And I’ve been wondering. If only I could have shared my emotions so candidly with you. Pets, hugs. 2-V is here.

Feelings… Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

Did I outrun love or did B outrun me? God is Love… My Braxton is Love. He nearly made it to 16. Virgil is a quarter of the way there at 4. But what am I really running my mouth about today? Drowning in emotion or an energy shot. I’ll B Running Virgil

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Like the MAGA hats, if I’m breathing, I’m lying. But instead of asking why. Let’s focus on how.

For the record, today is Saturday, October 19, 2024. (Record Scratch) “Yup, that’s me; you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Honestly? I downed an energy shot and decided to clean up Braxton’s yard. Shouldn’t I go start calling it Virgil’s yard? He turned four on Sunday. What was I doing when Braxton was that age? Sigh…

That’s the thing, Inspector. It’s not why I was his father. His Dad, but how. Don’t worry, your pretty head; we’ll get to females in a minute. Braxton found me. Love is louder and faster. Did I ever tell you I wanted to run track in school, Inspector Echo? Running.

I wasn’t in school when he found me, but he kept up. I carried him. My little boy B III.

Well, when he grew older. I’m never going to stop missing him. And I’m never going to stop saying how much being forty sucks. Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven… All the way “Back at One.” Again, Girls, Girls, Girls, comes later. But a couple of hours ago, in the backyard, much like at the Day Job, I started having terrible thoughts. “My future? It’s coming on, it’s coming on, it’s coming on.” And that means failure, fewer dollars, and the magic word, Inspector. FEAR! I’m awake because I’m afraid of everything. Everyone!

Echo, it’s all of the time. Ask me to name a fear off the top of my head. Water. Drowning.

I say I’m going to overflow like Mamimi Samejima from FLCL. And here we go.

If I’m not sweating because of some phantasm in “my” nightmares. Catching some form of the plague. Or doing public works. Uh, cleaning up the yard for puppies or neighbors.

Then I’m up because of my… A private part of my anatomy. Not so private for $5.00 or $100 for “The Full Monty” face and all. Pumping my life away. However, I wonder if energy shots REALLY help me push myself forward or if it is The Placebo effect. The constant questioning and self-doubt are a part of me now.

Whatever it is, Inspector, it has me at the dining room table and not swimming in sheets upstairs. And I can’t swim. Not without some pretty chick with giant floaties. AKA nice Yabbos. But somehow, Braxton kept me on solid ground. I’ll B Running Virgil

1361 Days Without B III, Day 802 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 113 ~Air Braxton’s For Virgil~

So, not a dime left for 2-V’s day? I got a bag of food. V only drinks bottled water. I’ve never given him a slice of hot dog or cheese. What took my B… Virgil could use a nail trim. Would that be a treat? Two days ago, maybe. Air Braxton’s For Virgil

Tuesday, October 22, 2024

Meditation 113 ~Air Braxton’s For Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My love for you is boundless, and I want you to remember that. I cherish every moment we share, and I hope you never tire of hearing me say it. Is this what they call words of Affirmation, baby girl.

Unfortunately, my love language isn’t receiving or giving gifts. And it isn’t Quality time with us speaking so early. Today is Friday, October 18, 2024. I wish I could go back to… What? Sunday, January 31, 2021. The day I lost my firstborn son Braxton.

Honestly, my love, I’m thinking about Tuesday, October 20, 2020. The day V was born.

And me being the selfish pri… person I am. I continue to imagine Emergence Day. Everything that I bought for myself. Well, other than food-related. Air, space, and being alone.

If only my Old Man had left my mother alone. “I don’t wanna die. I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” That’s the God-honest truth, my love. Wow, Michael Jackson and Queen. Hmm.

Michael Jackson would be great for a party… two days ago. Virgil’s birthday is Sunday, October 20, 2024. What am I getting him? Can you imagine what I’d buy you? Or how about any of our kids that walk on two legs? Or crawling. “Feel like makin’ love to you.”

I told Lady Sophia how I was reading about the Graham family in Everything Dies: Season One. Vincent, his wife Kristin, and their daughter Emily. I was going to say I can’t imagine the heartache, but I had to watch my son Braxton breathe his last breath. And when’s the last time I’ve taken a breath that wasn’t for or about my little boy Braxton.

But there’s another little guy out there. My little Virgil.

And I ain’t doing a DARN thing for him. He’s turning four. Giving him air and space isn’t helping. What? I was gone less than an hour to pick up sour cream, BBQ, and a burger. So um… I kicked him out of the bedroom for making a mess on the floor. And he’s been pacing around ever since, waiting for me to forgive him. An Act of Service. Hmm. He’s been extra cuddly lately, and it’s been cold, but by the click-clack on the floor, he could use a groomer’s nail trim. What about buying a new bathroom space so the floors stay clean.

Anything that didn’t belong to my Braxton. Like my heart? We’re Between the Sheets. But Virgil… Air Braxton’s For Virgil

1360 Days Without B III, Day 801 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 112 ~Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave~

Aren’t dogs supposed to know the rules in 90 days? I don’t know how to “live.” I’ve been here 40 years. And how old is V? His birthday was Sunday. Yet he’s no prince. I’m no king. But our kingdom, our order… “Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave.”

Monday, October 21, 2024

Meditation 112 ~Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave~

What Rule Is This?

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Or discovered. Sigh… I went over this in Meditation 105 ~Learn Something New Every Day~ I swear.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

I’m not even that much of a fan of Harry Potter. But, Emma Watson, AKA Hermione Granger’s face, legs, and yabbos… (Homer Drool) One more reason, I’m in trouble with all of “my rules.” Hmm.

What? That I can’t behave? When someone asks me, “Why can’t you just be normal?” Dear Madam? Why can’t I be a “Law Abiding Citizen,” Madam? “Why can’t you just be nice,” you ask? And how many movies am I going to quote today? Wednesday, October 16, 2024. And here’s another question. How many more rules will I… discover? Create?

Well, I’ll tell you, as of right this second, there will be a rule for The Purge. What about B?

Don’t hurt my son Braxton. Too Little Too Late, Madam.

And what about Virgil? He’s my boy too. But Dennis Hof had Domino Hof. Braxton and I were like that. Hell! I gave my son “The Talk” since he was all into his Aunt’s Yabbos. And that is why I can’t behave. Though Le Marquis De Sade articulates it better:

“Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.” ― Marquis de Sade

I’ve said that everything I desire is either inane, insane, impossible, or, at worst, illegal. Yet, I have a code by which I live. These rules? If I had the money, I would be the one, Madam, writing the rules. Again, here we are. But could you say that I follow the rules? I behave.

As Tony Montana said, “The only thing in this world that gives orders… is balls. Guts, green, and pretty girls.

I can’t even tell myself what to do, ok? Oh yes. A little boy living off my father’s cash, Madam.

But do you know why I want to behave? Because I want to be Daddy again someday. I may not have poured the Bisquick, but Braxton was/is my pancake. My son. I stayed out of jail. Like his Aunt, I practice “JSS” just survive somehow. And I toned down jettisoning any “white stuff” on some random girl. No, B III deserves a stepmom, dear Madam.

And while I don’t look a thing like Jesus, I need to talk like a gentleman. I need to build a Heaven before I invite someone to Hell. Phony, Manly, who knows. Just Be Me. Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave

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

1359 Days Without B III, Day 800 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 108 ~A Bargain Braxton… Virgil~

I’m reading a story I’d never share with B. And on Sundays, he knew to shut up so I could watch The Walking Dead. Could I give up the Dead for him? Sure. What about the WWE? Yep. Cheap, tawdry addictions for my son’s life? “A Bargain Braxton… Virgil”

Thursday, October 17, 2024

Meditation 108 ~A Bargain Braxton… Virgil~

1355 Days Without B III, Day 796 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Was my day exhausting? I’m sure. Humiliating? Of course. Am I being a meanie? Um…

I don’t like lying to you, B. If I hadn’t lied to you before, who knows? I would have seen you couldn’t handle my RAGE, and I could have gotten you help sooner. Now Virgil…

Virgil doesn’t deserve my WRATH. And I’m not that mean. If anything, I’m still grieving. From Sunday, January 31, 2021 to Thursday, October 17, 2024. And for the record, today is Sunday, October 13, 2024. Since we’re talking today, you know this week is Hell.

Braxton, every week without you feels… I don’t know. Bargain Basement Cheap. You’re bargaining with me to breathe for one more day. And in case you don’t get it (you were always so bright). Bargaining is the word for today. So, what brought this on?

Your guess is as good as mine. But while I was reading Everything Dies: Season One yesterday. I got to thinking. That’s never a good thing. Anyway, there’s The Five Stages of Grief, and so:

Denial: Your bed remains in the bedroom. Your food and meds are still on the counter after all these years. I haven’t changed the bedroom décor or thrown away clothes. It’s as if I’m still holding on to the hope that you’ll come back, refusing to accept the reality of your absence. But I know.

Anger: I hid my feelings, trying to shield you before your passing. I nearly punched out a manager after. You hadn’t been gone half an hour before your grandpa said to get a new “dog.” The anger I felt at that moment was overwhelming, a mix of grief and frustration at the insensitivity of others.

Bargaining: Why we’re here today.

Depression: Common as my anger

Acceptance: This will NEVER happen. The idea of accepting your absence feels like a betrayal, a denial of the love and bond we shared. How can I accept a world without you in it? NEVER!

I could continue always and forever, but the Day Job.

After you passed, I was a monk (Ha-Ha) for 161 days. And what was it that broke me, B III?

My love for you was so easily broken? Now, this isn’t about you. But I tell myself that I would do anything to have you back. And if I were to give up “adult situations…”

Braxton, “I don’t ever want to feel like I did that day.” Indifferent? Zombie-like? Worse?

RAGE, RAVISHMENT, REVOLVISION, the darkness, B. Everything Dies: Season One.

The things I desire, dictate upon the page and do are bargains. Being your Daddy. Braxton, that’s what cost me Everything. And I wonder if I’m failing to pay the cost or don’t want to. To exist? For Virgil? Forty years. A Bargain Braxton… Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

Even without a whole lot of food, toothpaste is still needed and plentiful. I was lucky to find fajita chicken, a bag of tortilla chips, some shredded cheese, and salsa. Wait? I’m supposed to be starving and celibate… Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And how is that sitting in bed today? Bothering to wake up. Opening my mouth. Taking a breath.

I’m sure Braxton would call it BS. Especially since he no longer breathes. One more reason I’m ashamed about today. Or should I say yesterday? Honestly, I’m such a Republican.

Not really, Inspector. EFF MAGA! But you know what I mean. I’m so ashamed about the past, but at least I have the stones to talk about it with you. What about Little Virgil, Echo?

Virgil and I don’t talk. Ever… However, I’ll ask him the same questions I once asked Braxton whenever I came back to the house. Manners Maketh Man. Right, dearest Echo.

“Just me, Baby V. Did you have a good day? Good day?” Ask Virgil how many times I’ve confused the letters V and B. It’s not funny. I know, Inspector.

The things that come out of my mouth. And what’s the last thing I’ve said to Virgil. I woke up at 3:48 AM because it wasn’t a good night. Only to say… well, the s-word and why. I’m talking to you at 8:54 AM, so I’m late. What was I doing last night besides trying to make chicken nachos? Inspector, I have a theory that Braxton was always eating because he didn’t want to tell me the truth. His full belly was pushing out sadness…

Eww! Was that a joke about Braxton’s bathroom breaks? I meant I’ve never seen Braxton sadder than when he had a full belly. His last days? When it was empty…

Braxton’s Euthanasia beats out any sins I’ve ever committed existence-wise.

But let’s talk about yesterday. There’s all my talk of making a better “life” that doesn’t mean anything. When I wake up to mornings like this, Inspector Echo. Wasting time.

I can talk about the blonde in the gold bikini that broke me after what? Three days? As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” After I woke up my “Big Willy,” Inspector. Eww! And if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Cherry. Moaning, stroking.

Besides the stress from the Day Job, take a look around this place… “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies,” lots. “Many men. Many, many, many, many men.” Then there’s looking up bad guys. Like Isaku? My big mouth, Inspector. Dad’s BS, Braxton, Virgil

1354 Days Without B III, Day 795 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 106 ~Braxton and Virgil… Oafs~

I’ve knelt to both my sons. I’ve imagined I would kneel before some woman. Take an arrow to the knee? Hell! It’s a fight to get out of bed. And had I but the courage, I would never rise. But I stand and fall for my boys. Braxton and Virgil… Oafs

Tuesday, October 15, 2024

Meditation 106 ~Braxton and Virgil… Oafs~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Is it a love that surpasses even the bond with my firstborn son, Braxton? Well… I’ve never made a solemn promise before God, but my love for you is unwavering.

Ask me when I last spoke to the divine. I’ve pleaded for the life of my son, and I’ve begged to join him when I was at death’s door. I’m not sure if I’m conversing with a deity, a spirit, or something else, but I do so every day ask…

Darling, I’m sorry to say this, but I ask the “Spirit In the Sky” for the courage to find B. If you know what I mean. And I’ve asked God how I was fortunate enough to see you. It was as if I stumbled and fell into your love, and I’m eternally grateful for it.

Or how do they say, “I Took an Arrow in the Knee? I’m a lover, not a fighter… I wish. These days, my Love … damn near every day, I feel like a warrior. To have their discipline, determination, and death. I want to fall.

Death Wish? More like dedication. I ask you… hell, I scream out to you, “Don’t Give Up On Me.” “Have a Little Faith in Me.” More music? To cover up my mourning, moaning, or whatever it is I’m doing. I fear that Living will become one of those haunting words.

Words like Happiness, Home, or Hilarious/Laughter. Something that means nothing. From a linguistic point of view. I know the words exist, but what do I think about when they are spoken? I feel exactly what I felt that led to Braxton’s passing. Indifference, My Love.

And with all the time I had last week… women sans clothing. Such is my awesome business, both a blessing and a curse. I’ve been looking to… be better. I don’t know. Can I be?

I don’t know what got me to kneel before Braxton that first time and say, “Whatever happens, stay with me. I’ll look after you.” Eowyn’s words. A woman’s words. Sexist…


Honestly, My Love, I was about to be. Do forgive me. I should say that I’ve been looking for the words from the brave, of champions, even devils, if need be. Even the simplest, ok.

Like Warhammer 40,000 Space Marine II… “For The Emperor!” Something to have me kneel and then stand if but to show you “I can be the man you need me to be.” But if I can’t even honor my Braxton. Or look after Virgil. I trip over myself. Falling. Crashing.

My boys keep their oaths; Love. Braxton and Virgil… Oafs.

1353 Days Without B III, Day 794 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will