Meditation 334 ~Braxton’s BASS Face Virgil~

I’m all about that bass, no treble. Escape correcting others of my pronouns. What am I? Full MAGA. Ew! At least I’m not telling people we’re all going to die. Well, more in a “Don’t Look Up” way. But Virgil needs to live. “Braxton’s BASS Face Virgil”

Saturday, May 31, 2025

Meditation 334 ~Braxton’s BASS Face Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… If that were the case, I’d be screaming my head off. Crying, complaining while crapping cash.

Ew! But having money is the shit because “Oh, somehow I know there’s more to life than this.” “Only God Knows Why.” Life and God; “Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?” My son, my Braxton. Am I not going to talk about him today? What about his little brother Virgil? Is it better to talk about the living, not the dead? Republicans…

“Well, we all are going to die.”
Senator Joni Ernst

Geez, Louise, Lady Lunalesca, I’m not that bad to say such a thing in a room full of constituents. And the Senator had some bass in her voice, too. So I want bass and billions.

Why? To keep Virgil from ending up like Braxton. One more problem off my plate or the exam table. Lunalesca, Virgil is alive and well.

Am I lying? Well, his look-at-me fee was $190.00. Do you remember when I was bragging about the car dealership waving that $189.00? I can’t do that anymore. With everything…

Virgil’s check-up, with six months of medication. The vet did say Virgil Vivi is heartworm-free. And speaking of free, they threw in a nail trim. So, with all of that and a late lunch, the damage comes out to around $270.00. So what’s the bad news. The TOOTH, dear Lu.

Virgil needs a teeth cleaning in the worst way. Like father, like son. Which is why I keep my mouth shut. All the dental work I need. And when I speak plainly, Dear Lady Lunalesca.

My voice has no bass, I’m afraid to say, Lunalesca.

Did I want a burger that badly yesterday? Or did I want to hear someone call me ‘Sir’ over ‘Ma’am’?

Another reason for Braxton and Virgil. With every bark, beat, and breath, all I hear is Dad, Daddy, or Father. I don’t think Virgil has ever been so grateful after the vets brought him back to me. He nearly didn’t make it to the appointment after the vet’s humiliating call. You know me, I’d do anything for my furry sons.

Don’t be such a drama KING. So, the receptionist called me ‘Ma’am’ over the phone.

Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom says she can fall in love with my maleness. I’m quite the guy until someone brings me back to reality, like what happened to Meghan Trainor? She’s happy… Me, Boys, Stepmom? Braxton’s BASS Face Virgil

1581 Days Without B III, Day 1022 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

I got so freaking sad. Walmart tends to do that before MAGA’s tariffs. As always, FDT! And I won’t get paid this week. Virgil has a vet visit, and I have a girl looking to be with me. I’m trying to ‘save’ myself… There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I’m not Jigsaw. Did I mean that to be funny? Like Stephen King, Eli Roth…

Oh yes, there will be blood. Only in movies and books. And why am I in such a creepy mood today? Monday, May 26, 2025. The past few weeks haven’t been so kind. I know.

But I could be crying over Braxton as I did this morning. There was the sweat from my “Anxiety” setting up Virgil’s next vet appointment. I must be as ‘annoying’ as Doechii’s song worrying about my first and second born. And can I mention I see myself sitting on that hard bench in Banfield back on Sunday, January 31, 2021, hearing my son was dying?

He wasn’t the first life I saw end, but the first I ended with my own hand. The stroke of a pen, whatever. A body.

And he was lucky. Braxton only had to die once… Twice, if I ever truly let him go. I don’t know if I ever can. But that’s the man you married. One who has died so many times up to this point in our lives. Our lives? But the day my B left is the one I dare to remember.

“On the day I was born.” What, was I “Bad to the Bone?” The day my father beat my ass for lying about my homework. I wrote down the problems but without any answers. Hell! I still feel a certain kind of way about drinking a bottle of IBC Root Beer. He smacked the bottle out of my hand before… Anyway, how many other lives.

“There I lay, wearing dead people as armor against death.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle

Again I’m being pretty effing creepy. But I slay, vanquish, delete, and unalive myself so many times in so many different ways. And no, not because of Braxton. Or that I feel I’m failing Virgil. What about taking care of you and our children? Baby Doll, Love? A Man Provides.

And ‘God forbid’ I use the dreaded K-word. Unless we’re talking about the film Pontypool, then “K*ll is kiss!” And I can’t start singing Teen Idle Feeling super, super (super!)… well, you know the rest. I surround myself with the living to keep back death.

I lie in bed with you. I pay Virgil’s bill. I tuck in our children. I read and write. Burying bodies in fiction without graves. But There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

“Be the body, not the shadow; hold space.”
From ― Amina, The Book of Clarence

1577 Days Without B III, Day 1018 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 327 ~Braxton Cashes In Virgil~

I’ve had two car accidents. One with two different cars. Today’s car drama started with me going to see my Olds on Mother’s Day. What shall I see today? Books in a waiting room. A bill. A boy, a son, I failed. B was lucky… “Braxton Cashes In Virgil.”

Saturday, May 24, 2025

Meditation 327 ~Braxton Cashes In Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Awnaw, hell naw! What a way to wake up, huh? Not with hope, happiness, mental health…

There was a time when Braxton was all there was. I’d collapse into bed, he would make sure I was tucked in, and then he’d go and “stand a post.” A Few Good Men, Lunalesca.

Today, I remember that scared kid I was. God, so long ago. The back of the car smashed into a tree on a dark morning. Terrified I was going to wake up my Old Man. But somehow, the car started again, and I drove to the Day Job. Afterward, with barely $600, I went to Express Oil Change and sat in the waiting room, fear gripping tight, thinking again I’d have to call my Old Man because I wouldn’t have enough to pay. Then what?

As Sia sings I’m “Alive,”

But my son is not. Braxton died so many years afterward. But to be “Two of the Lucky Ones.” I should have followed him. As I’ve said before, Lady Lunalesca. Whenever I’m afraid, I think of the worst day of my entire existence, and that was watching my son die.

Next would be the day I was born. So, I guess the day I wrecked the car and sat in an auto shop would be the third worst day ever. And that is why we’re talking at 5:20 AM, Luna.

I should be asleep, Luna, slithering on my belly or saying to myself, I’ll do better tomorrow. But for me and Apollo Creed, “There is no tomorrow!” Explains Friday evening.

I bought even more books.

Buying books like they’re going out of style. Which, according to MAGA, they are. And I know you’re not Lady Sophia. Still, I purchased everything from Richard Bachman/Stephen King’s “The Long Walk” to Richard Dresser’s “It Happened Here.” Effing MAGA. Another harem book from Logan Jacobs’ “Backyard Dungeon 17: A Reverse Portal Fantasy.” And finally, there is “The Aeneid” by Virgil. Did I forget my other son, named after the Roman poet? The man who led Dante through Hell. The dog waiting for his walk.

Should I survive today at the dealership and have any money left, there’s Virgil’s health. And what about his and Braxton’s stepmom? Is M Anime that for my boys. Possibility.

But I won’t bet on myself. Braxton Cashes In Virgil

1574 Days Without B III, Day 1015 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 323 ~L’s Between B, V~

“I want you to recognize the difference between what you feel and what’s real.” I feel courage, but I ain’t got the guts. I’m horny, but I’m lying here on my… man parts. I’m in love, but in how many ways has my heart broken. Loser. “L’s Between B, V”

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Meditation 323 ~L’s Between B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That’s why we must tell our children about the birds and the bees. That conversation.

“But, uh, has anyone talked to you about the birds and the bees?”
“Oh, you mean dicks and vaginas?”
― The Last of Us (2025)

Thank you, but I prefer it my way
Andre Baptiste Sr., Lord of War (2005)

The first time I gave something even remotely similar to that speech was with Braxton.

More to the point of Ain’t nobody “Humpin’ Around.” What can I say? Like father like son, my love. Braxton was supposed to be my breast… Excuse me. My Best Man. And he and I were both big fans of Yabbos. And he B III liked his aunt. A lot. I had to tell him.

What about Virgil? He won’t need that speech, I’m afraid. The ole snip, snip, treatment. Is it any wonder that my secondborn lost his balls? Braxton had some huge cojones.

Seriously, what’s with all this talk about my boys’ anatomy? Trying to be lighthearted, ha!

I’m so “Heavy In Your Arms.” So “Let’s Get Lost.”

The Twilight Soundtrack? That’s the lightest of it, my love. I want to lose my crown. I’ve never been a good man, but how dare I refuse to be king. I don’t have the heart for it. Mine was broken when I lost my firstborn son, little Braxton. Now yours, our kids, trying to mend Virgil’s. A jar of hearts. And no, not like Christina Perri, more like Marianne Engel.

Do you remember when we read Andrew Davidson’s The Gargoyle? That Marianne. Do you remember her man, the pornographer? Eff! How I want to get lost in you, baby doll.

“If you have any idea what I want to do to you right now. I can’t live like this.”
Will Traynor, Me Before You (2016)

Fingers, tongue, and, uh, penis. As the Isley brothers said, “Enough of this singin’, let’s make love.” But “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin'” I have.

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” And I can hear you now if I quote one more song…

But what would be left of me? I can’t tell you the critics. And the one who I could tell…

There’s SADNESS, FEAR, and LUST. So, as I have a week to lie here, I don’t have a week to lie here. So what do I do, my love? What do we do? I can’t do this. But husband, father…

What should I read some more? This morning, it was more about pet loss. When I close my eyes, there’s another ding that scares me. And looking at your beauty. And not being able to do anything Less, Loser, Lost, Me. L’s Between B, V.

1570 Days Without B III, Day 1011 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 320 ~Virgil’s Plan B Crisis~

I don’t want to be like my father. A provider, yes. Not one telling their son to man up, grow a pair, or mistake anger for courage. B III had huge cojones. 2-V has none. And mine? Well, between OF and my boys’ stepmom… Oh! Virgil’s Plan B Crisis

Saturday, May 17, 2025

Meditation 320 ~Virgil’s Plan B Crisis~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Or if I was, I’d have the balls to be a jerk. Braxton was for free.

Lady Lunalesca, I love my boy like pancakes. But I can call him a jerk. B III had balls, Lu. Virgil is annoying as all Hell. But his balls have nothing to do with me. He’d already been snipped before I met him. Does that thought make me cry. Nope! Virgil woke me up around three in the morning with that panicky run of his. It can be infuriating, Lunalesca.

But why am I talking about dog balls today? Why not focus on mine, if anything? And we will. I have more than enough crises, calamities, and criminality. Lunalesca? Boys?

Always and forever, my boys. I never had a plan for life without Braxton. And what will I do with Virgil? Keep waiting, wanting, walking.

And what about my boys’ stepmom? We went from texting every couple of weeks to trading writing every day. And then, on Thursday, May 15, 2025, as the song goes, I’m all “You Make My Dreams” come true. And I haven’t heard from her since. What am I to think? It’s only been a day, but when a girl shows you a little (something, something…)

Then I’m busy wanking to reciprocate. What? I didn’t do a video. Did I mention I have an OnlyFans? So I had to show off BIG WILLIE. Eww. And that’s all she wrote, my Lady. So, “What makes me a man? Any fool could see (that you’re) more than a woman to me.” That’s what I was trying to say…

But what are Angie Stone, Robin, and Maurice Gibb saying now? That’s pretty dark. Yeah.

You’ll have to excuse me, Lady Lunalesca. It was raining cats and dogs earlier. Too bad none of them were my Braxton. Okay, what is with my “dark humor?” Since it was storming. And Virgil again was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Stop It! Anyway. I couldn’t take Virgil outside. So I listened to DJ Cara “GTA”. Let’s agree that it didn’t do me any favors. Well, other than forgetting the real crises during existence.

First, there’s the Check Engine Light. Afterward, Virgil needs to get his shots. And if somehow I can pay for that. Mourning, Mammaries, and making money. Virgil’s Plan B Crisis.

1567 Days Without B III, Day 1008 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

The last time I had to send Virgil to Braxton’s Room was because of a storm. He’s not one to control his bladder. And he could lose his sh*t. Speaking of which, the things that I say. I miss Braxton. I love sex, I’m afraid. Virgil, I’ll B Saying

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? More than my boys? I plead the 5th. My love, I’m not that lying Trump.

I have my soft and hard limits, but may I never be as vulgar, vindictive, or vicious as those of MAGA. And yet one of my sons, Braxton, saw Trump’s end… Virgil sees Trump 2.0.

But no, I don’t want to talk about politics today, Monday, May 12, 2025. Or ever. But we have no choice in the matter. As I have no choice but to keep loving Braxton. Always.

And Virgil? I don’t love him as much as Braxton. Later V, Later Virgil as opposed to Love ya B, Love ya Braxton. And look at me crying again. It’s not only because of Braxton. Mother’s Day has been pretty HARD till now. And OH MY GOD, we’ll get to that. Only, I miss Braxton.

Would you rather listen to me cry over him love or sweat over you? Mourning or Moaning? Grieving or Grunting? Wiping my tears or Whipping my… Must I be gross?

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.”
The Last of Us

Love, if anything, as Roger sang, “I Want To Be Your Man.” I need “Sexual Healing,” as Marvin Gaye spectacularly put it. What’s better than making Love “Between The Sheets.”

My boy isn’t the only one that can put together a playlist. But we’d have to send Braxton, Virgil, and our two-legged rugrats to bed. Especially considering who I want to be with you. Annoying? I can be that too, but at least I’m not crying anymore, but you, darling.

Well, I want to effing “Tear You Apart.” Because “You get me closer to God.”

And that’s the truth, “I Wanna Eff You.” But not only because I love you more than anything. (Braxton looks down on me from Heaven). I don’t have alternative facts; I have ADDITIONAL facts. Effing MAGA! Anyway, my love, I’m afraid. Yes, I’m worried, but it’s FEAR, my love. And it has begun to overwhelm me. But I’m “Just A Man.” A man provides, protects, and pets puppies. But Braxton isn’t here anymore. And a man isn’t supposed to call on a woman for help, but who else is there. My Ma? Anyone at all?

Love, I don’t know what to do. WHATEVER IT TAKES! I sound like one of my motivations, or Captain America. So what’s next. I have Virgil. Virgil, I’ll B Saying.

1563 Days Without B III, Day 1004 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 313 ~Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots~

I have too many ideas. The dream I had about The Last of Us. The disgusting energy shot. No! It could be all the dames in the book “Vector.” Or my disturbing writing. War Story, Dark Erotica, Uh? Not V or B’s fault. Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots.

Saturday, May 10, 2025

Meditation 313 ~Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Well, if I were before Braxton died, I would have given my firstborn all the credit.

What about Virgil? I’ve spared him much of the madness I gave Braxton. A thought?

Dogs age so much quicker because humans can be taxing creatures. It would explain why Virgil usually sleeps between my silence, sloth, and gluttony. Gluttony?

Until next payday, I’m “Livin’ On A Prayer.” More like pizza rolls, a rotisserie chicken, and sacks of peanuts and jelly beans. A weird combination, I know, dear Lady Lunalesca.

But let me ignore my “empty” belly and speak more about my Overfilled head. “Vector.” Yesterday, I was talking about how I started Michael Dalton’s novel. A professor has a roll in the hay with college girls, colleagues, and other collected women, some harem fanfare. Then there’s his cat, Hemingway.

Am I writing a book report? No! But it’s Saturday, and I can do what I want. Can’t I? If that were the case, I’d do unspeakable things to Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. Stop calling M Anime that! But she said or instead wrote something.

I now call that something “Boss’s Bullet, Seed, and Sacrifice.” It made me lose it. Yesterday, I failed when I read about her and Boss. M Anime’s and Cherry’s Yabbos.

Lunalesca, why not focus on today? Again, my brain is stuffed. And my hairy sack. Seriously, gross; I know, my lady. Anyway, “Vector.” When the professor talks to his cat. WWE Backlash is today. I’ve got an outline waiting. I’m the “Last of My Kind.”

Did I mention I’m angry that I forgot to buy The Long Walk by Stephen King? I have been watching the movie trailer repeatedly. And while I should stop thinking about M Anime sharing my bed, I should stop believing that every time I leave it, I am preparing for The Long Walk or I’m in; I just don’t have the sense to stop walking.

But there are worse things. Like my stories? Didn’t I tell M Anime I would start on Chapter Nineteen of “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Only I plotted Chapter Four of “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” Today, I’m deciding between “sampling” the Kuroinu anime series or M Anime’s Associate and Boss. (Homer Drool). I can’t tell Virgil anything, Lunalesca. Seriously.

M Anime, Myself, My boys, anyone. Virgil’s Conspiracies and B-Plots

1560 Days Without B III, Day 1001 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

I tell B I love him every day. But I don’t know about the reception on the Rainbow Bridge. I tell V, “Later.” I tell him I’ll be back and that he’s staying. I rescued him. And they’re potential stepmom. What I said to her. Virgil’s B In Language

Tuesday, May 6, 2025

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But as Snow Patrol sings, “Those three words are said too much. They’re not enough.”

How do I know? Despite how much my Old Man paid my way, I hate him. My firstborn son, Braxton, died. And I could say it to my secondborn son, Virgil. But I hate lying.

Always and forever, there’s you, my love. There is the family we created together. And you know me, a beast with a beat. “Havin’ my baby. What a lovely way of sayin’ how much you love me.” That’s all you because I highly doubt Braxton would send me such a song. If he were here today, his four little legs would run circles around his two-legged siblings to keep them safe. Virgil would be quieter than them, easy. Long story.

Love can be quiet or loud. It’s a difficult language.

And since I’m reminiscing about people, places, and even pieces of myself I hate. LEARN.

I’m constantly having to relearn how to love myself. Love, I am The Walking Dead. However, I’m not saying that because today is Sunday, May 4, 2025. So we both know, um, Tuesday, May 6, 2025, is going to suck. Oh, we’ll get to the sucking. Uh, ew. Uh, lovers.

Watch my mouth? Again, we’ll get to that. I say the most horrible things, and we’re not a religious household. But love, Jesus had it easy. If we skip the torture, he just died, love.

My Ma would say he died to save us. And I live? Not because I particularly care to do so. That’s my love language. STAYING.

Again, from a biblical context, Jesus came back. God is love. Dog is love, and my B III, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” as The Killers put it. However, “My Goddess.”

Um. Did we put the kids to bed four-legged, two-legged, and all? Okay, dearest love.

Purely in a Shakespearean meets The Pretty Reckless type of way, “You make me wanna die.” Hear me out, my love. My grief brings me closer to my son, B. Not really, but that’s what I’m going with. Being with you brings me closer in a way to dying. Seriously? Neither of us is Rihanna, but “Sex with Me,” sex with you, I tell myself, “I guess I die another day.” Virgil’s B In Language.

“I think I’ll find another way
There’s so much more to know
I guess I’ll die another day
It’s not my time to go

For every sin, I’ll have to pay
I’ve come to work, I’ve come to play
I think I’ll find another way
It’s not my time to go.”
Die Another Day

1556 Days Without B III, Day 997 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 306 ~That’ll B Elysium, Virgil~

I’m sure Virgil was asking this morning, Where are we going, Dad? From one end of the street to the other and back again. And as far as writing… Did M Anime have another “nightmare?” Reading and writing in a warm bed. Lazy? That’ll B Elysium, Virgil.

Saturday, May 3, 2025

Meditation 306 ~That’ll B Elysium, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But the last time I checked, treadmills didn’t cost that much. Neither did grassy potty spots.

I’m surprised my boys don’t hate me. Braxton crossed the rainbow bridge. And rests in Elysium or someplace. And Virgil, at the moment, is content to be warm and dry. It’s what you get when you wake up on time and decide to take a walk in the rain. A$$hole?

Seriously, Lady Lunalesca, “It’s me, hi. I’m the problem, it’s me.” As I said, I woke up on time, but I’m still running somewhat late. What have I done, “living life like a bum” like I am, Luna? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 16” and started “Into The Wild Shadow Work Journal.” The sign of a good woman is that she makes you want to do better. B and V’s stepmom.

Lunalesca, that’s not M Anime.

And it definitely wasn’t how I thought about building a paradise with her yesterday. I talk a lot about wanting a family, and that would be my two boys. It would be Braxton’s favorite girl, who is like my sister… Uh, she’s better… And what about the two people paying the majority of my bills? My Olds. I’m a forty-year-old man. And I’d rather not think about it. Dear Lu.

I’m not crying. Let’s say that this is only leftover rain from when I took V outside, and I think for a moment, even he forgot about it. No people, no nothing. That’s bliss. Nothingness.

“I want everything, or nothing at all,” as Goodfellaz sang. Life or death, victory or defeat, Lunalesca. It’s the in-between…

It’s remembering how I was/am a good father to Braxton and trying to replicate that. Only there’s this little thing called mourning STANDING in the way. B III’s song choices.

“I wish I could say the right words
To lead you through this land
Wish I could play the father
And take you by the hand
Wish I could stay here
But now I understand
I am standing in the way.”
― Rupert Edmund Giles

There are those moments when I’m reading or fiddling with the phone when I forget everything. I can be Jacob, Eddie, or Cole in many different harems. The hero. Honestly, what game am I playing next? But then it ends, and I’m right back here. And I wonder what this place is. Like I said Friday, I was rewriting in the buff, M Anime’s Nightmare.

Cries Come Women, Come Country… Her “Hell” I want to make into a paradise. Luna?

No one can go there. There’s here and now. Poor Virgil. That’ll B Elysium, Virgil.

1553 Days Without B III, Day 994 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

To be a man and a Dad, one must “Make Room, Make Room!” I don’t know if B has only taken up more space since his death or if there is so little left of me. V needs space, too. And yet I step forward only to ask myself. Where to? Room After B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Every little step I take, you will be there. But I’m not Bobby Brown. I’m…

That’s the thing, my love. I want to say, “All Yours.” But I’m not one to shy away from the truth. And while I’m constantly asking myself where I am going, It’s where I am.

“Where you gonna go, where you gonna run, where you gonna hide? Nowhere… ’cause there’s no one like you left.” — Carol Malone, Body Snatchers (1993)

Darling, I have never left the last place I saw my boy on Sunday, January 31, 2021. There was Braxton, in his own bed on a vet’s table, looking at me to do something, save him, or spare him any more pain. My boy wanted to stay. And since he couldn’t, I have. That is the truth. It could be a new definition of love. At its most simplistic, love means you before me. By that logic, I do love Virgil, too. But the concept that one would only stay.

Baby Doll, I could give you a whole playlist on that “Stay With Me” “If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” “We were made to never fall away.” You can thank B for that last one. “You’re coming back for me.” Damn right!

However, this is the rub. How can I return to a place that I have never left? Where am I?

We are in a dream. I still see us on a beach somewhere. Our two-legged kids ran along in the sand and waves. Little Braxton pulled with all his might to keep them from the water. And you are pulling me and trying to get me to join you. Where?

Again, I don’t know. A man is supposed to lead, but I would rather follow my boy or have you, my love, follow my rules. One of those reasons is “chains and whips excite me,” ha-ha! You know how I’ve been feeling about money these days. Building our “Red Room.”

More like I wanted to “Paint It Black.” Like all the ink along the pages of the books I write. I read something last night and to see the dark lusts, depravity, and desires. Love? Honestly, it could go either way. Let’s say all the dark places in women that men yearn to go, my love. Because with you, at least, I’m moving forward in a Kama Sutra way, baby.

Love? Room After B, Virgil.

Even if you leave this room, you can never leave this room.
— from 1408 (2007)

1549 Days Without B III, Day 990 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will