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Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

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I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 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 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

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After V’s morning business, I’ll have a cappuccino and an aspirin… What? It beats an energy shot. I haven’t had one in weeks. Simoleons, ducketts, Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Then V got sick. But good night’s sleep. “Virgil, Better B Treatable”

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It all starts with waking up in the morning. I’m not a Bible thumper, but I’m a sinner. I carry a guilt with me every day, a burden I can’t seem to shake. Not ever! My everlasting shame.

As for what I’ve done wrong, it varies from day to day. Let’s start with the worst thing I’ve ever done. 1263 days ago, I watched my firstborn son, my fur buddy, my Braxton, die.

I have to remind myself of that sometimes Inspector Echo. Remind myself? How dare I!

And what about the living? Virgil is right here beside me for once. It’s time to reset that sign to 0 days without painting the floors with… You don’t even want to know E. Eww!

Stomach stew galore. And once again, I was down on my knees. But I wasn’t praying as I once had for Braxton. 704 days with Virgil, and if he were to leave me now, Inspector…

Honestly, I don’t know… Feelings. I’m lost in a sea of emotions and can’t seem to find my way out. I need your understanding and guidance, my dear Inspector Echo.

Even sitting here with Virgil, I need only think of my Braxton Barks if I want to cry. But Inspector, ask me what Virgil gets. I’m tired. And I’m listening to instrumentals. Because I don’t have any words for Virgil. Yesterday was the most attention I’ve paid him in about a week. Between the Simoleon situation, “my story” (I’m trying), and my usual “adult” shenanigans.

Yeah, it usually involves some young woman’s YABBOS. However, the pair I’m currently worried about are M Anime’s. Well, wasn’t that disrespectful? I have to pull myself out of that Nightmare of hers. Or, excuse me, Sofía’s Nightmare. Somebody said something about getting over a woman by turning her into literature. And fur buddies… Maybe.

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.” Lawrence Durrell

No wonder I got inspired.

One woman got me to blog again. Cherry got a novel trilogy. Braxton got his name in over a thousand blog posts and two more novels. M Anime has around 6,000 words at the moment. If I were to ever lose Braxton’s Aunt… who knows? Virgil has a blank slate.

Inspector, I had to do all the cleaning after he got “down with the Sickness.” And now, with a good night’s sleep, all I can do is complain about not getting to nap. So, okay.

Inspector, we’ve established that I’m no good, and no amount of sleep is enough. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I need your support now.

Because there’s no medicine for what I have. Even when I had my son. How about a ‘super’ girl? Several Simoleons? Virgil, Better B Treatable.

1263 Days Without B III, Day 704 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 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

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Braxton didn’t discover much of the world, but the little he did know about it, he wanted to rule. The backyard, his spot on the bed, my second best friend’s boobs. I haven’t seen much myself, to be honest. But A.I… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

Wednesday, July 10, 2024

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector Echo, discovery can be strange like that. It’s not wrong all the time to explore, discover, compete…

And to be fearless. If only my son were here. That was a discovery I didn’t want to make. That Braxton wouldn’t live forever. And the Friday I learned, Braxton…

Forgive me, Inspector Echo. Whenever I think of something bad, I must remind myself that I have survived worse. My Little Braxton’s run to The Rainbow Bridge (a place where pets go after they pass away) is the worst thing.

Today, I was crying about something completely different. But it always returns to my B.

And then there’s Virgil. Talk about following your nose or sticking it where it doesn’t belong. But Virgil is my responsibility. And I gave up that fan I bought last year to blow in Braxton’s room and help mitigate the smell. I swear Virgil is afraid to explore the yard.

And I’m scared to discover life. Which leads me to why I was crying this morning. Do you remember Meditation 007, Allowed To Hate Your Birthday? Well, I don’t, Inspector. Anyway, I was thinking about that title today. And I’m about to reach forty. Effing FORTY, Inspector! And what do I have to show for it? Every day, I take another step forward, Inspector Echo.

More like I tiptoe when I should have already made giant leaps. What was I doing yesterday? I was a “Beast of Burden” for the Day Job. I couldn’t wait to get back here and write. But we’ll get to that. I read about fantasy girlies in Dystopian Girls 4. I played The Walking Dead and some other games. As usual, I fell asleep while trying to catch up with wrestling highlights. Roxanne, Kelani, Liv…

And yeah, I had left all the lights on, so I’m awake at two in the morning and have to shut them off. I only woke up late at 5:00 AM and stared at several girls’ “headlights” to wake up. All The Stars, so many. But that’s nothing compared to what has got me going.

I’ve gone from M Anime’s nightmare, which inspired me to write, to a 3000-word story. And now to planning an entire novel. Without an ending…

Inspector. While working on that, I discovered what Artificial Intelligence can do. Right now, it’s only to help me focus, but I’m ready to burn money and my fellow writers.

Whatever it takes for The End… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

1256 Days Without B III, Day 697 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 008 ~B MOODS Mountains Virgil~

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I’ve been in a bad mood. Define bad mood. Crying, fighting, effing around. All the above, but then again, so is Braxton. And some girl that can’t hear me cause “She’s So High,” high above me. Braxton, hogging the angels. B MOODS Mountains Virgil

Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Meditation 008 ~B MOODS Mountains Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And to “make you feel my love.” I’m already singing. I’m trying to calm down.

Would you rather I leave it to Braxton? If only my firstborn were here. But Braxton himself isn’t a mood. He’s a lifestyle. Braxton gave me another meaning to existence.

Lover, I’m not Prince Hector. But like any man should, I hold dear to my heart certain morals, ideals, and a code that guides me in life. I can’t say I’m mad at Hector’s personal creed. Indeed, meaning to… ‘life’ (shudders a bit). But these values make me who I am. And I want you to understand and accept them.

“All my life, I’ve lived by a code, and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman, and defend your country.” Prince Hector

As for myself, I can tell you three things about being a man: a husband and a dad. I try:

Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul. From Reign
A man provides. Breaking Bad
Be the person my dog… my son, thinks I am.

And Suddenly, I’m inspired. Do I feel better yet? Again, I’m still trying, my love.

Is it wrong to compare you? Not to other women. With the businesses I manage…

Another moral I have is this. I wanted a woman that could make me feel just so… That I wouldn’t want her on film. You’re for my eyes alone. Though, um? We can talk about…

Anyway, I would return some days, and Braxton would have me rest my head as he put on his security cap and watched me sleep. I couldn’t clench my fists if I were too busy feeding him French fries or petting his fur. After washing my hands… Day Job. And it was difficult to jump in fear or do something stupid (like taking off my pants)… If Braxton hung around.

Women and my little boy.

Thanks to you, my lovely wife, I have a couple of little boys and girls. Our family. I was telling Madam Justice the other day about having gratitude. Apparently, I can’t hear myself because I am trying. But it’s hard… Well, I do have you, after all. You are the light of my life, and I am so grateful for you, my lady, my love.

Baby Girl, I could tell you precisely what I’m in the mood for and… I expect too much from you. And you could ask anything of me. Well, short of leaving the mood, Braxton left.

There are some other things, too. But wanting you, loving us, and needing…, everything and more. If I can only remember where I was when Braxton was around. In Trouble…

Now that’s a better mood. Always. B MOODS Mountains Virgil

1255 Days Without B III, Day 696 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 002 ~B In BBWS, Virgil~

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My Braxton was barely six pounds at his passing. I never knew grief could be so big until the ocean I cried for him. My rage would show there was no more room in Hell. And desire for release… Stars, Skinny Minnie’s, some Big’Uns. “B In BBWS, Virgil.”

Wednesday, July 3, 2024

Meditation 002 ~B In BBWS, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector, in ways that may seem RUDE, SKEEVY, and unforgivable. My greatest sin, the one that haunts me even today, I lay bare before you. Accept it, for I am burdened with guilt.

Never! On the second day of a new writing year, I cannot choose ACCEPTANCE of my darkest sin. I wouldn’t on Sunday, January 31, 2021. And as I can’t do this Sunday, June 23, 2024. This pattern of denial has become a sin unto itself.

Well, I’m sure I have Humiliations Galore. But I rather not imagine them. I want to avoid rereading what led me to create this platform in the first place. I told the “Man In The Mirror” that I didn’t want to fail in putting out “my” poetry book, GULP. Seeing as how I have a week to prepare. If I only had a week with Braxton when he got sick… If I would have known.

Inspector, do you know I was practicing “abstinence” even before I found out about B?

Yeah, let’s go with that.

When Braxton was around, I wasn’t much for women. His presence was so strong, so clinging, especially in those final days. But I wasn’t UP for watching pairs of Yabbos. I was protecting my son from one thing but overlooked his actual danger. And so I failed as a father. And as a man, saving him. The regret is overwhelming.

So, I’ve been sitting here, trying to deny myself ‘self-fulfillment.’ “Do or do not. There is no try.” But it’s a constant struggle. It feels like a fitting punishment for my sins but also a source of deep personal conflict.

I remember I went 161 days without until, well, uh…

As the song goes, “I’m rich BLANK, I’m a BLANK Big Tymer.” I’m greedy! Selfish!

Inspector Echo, I never saw myself as one who would idolize Scarface’s stance on things.

“Me, I want what’s coming to me. The world, chico, and everything in it.”
Scarface

Wanting a specific size of woman is only another symptom of that… I’m equal opportunity with girls, as you know. But I’ve been thinking a lot. Oh! I’m not writing.

I lost control of my desires when a blonde celebrity, whose name I’d rather not mention, rubbed her legs during an interview. Today, I watched an Asian woman with the nicest Yabbos I’ve seen in some time, Inspector. These encounters, with particular anime, “Fake Driving School,” along with thoughts of Cherry, have tested my self-control.

But the critic doesn’t like that. My grief is an ocean. My rage encompasses Hell. Desires? B In BBWS, Virgil

1249 Days Without B III, Day 690 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 001 ~Virgil, That’ll B New~

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Meditations? Really? More like complaining, crying, and talking about my… Uh, here we are in another year. I remember why I started eight years ago… somewhat. Now? Has anything changed? B III’s been gone longer. And the title. Virgil, That’ll B New

Tuesday, July 2, 2024

Meditation 001 ~Virgil, That’ll B New~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? New year and all! Into the future! My love for you, family, my firstborn son…

It’ll be greater now than from where I am, Saturday, June 22, 2024. Meditations huh? Love, it’s easier in the past and the future, but what about today? I’m halfway tempted to turn on a little Luther Vandross “Here And Now.” A pledge, promise, proposal…

Braxton didn’t need any of that. How many times have I told this story? The one about my Olds moving to the new house, and I told Braxton to get in the car. That’s that!

Virgil, our new furry companion, will do that someday, and then you’ll break out all Giselle-like with, “That’s How You Know.” Well, not if I keep this up… Choosing my boys over you. Correction, Braxton, my firstborn. Because if I ever feel the same way about Virgil as I do about Braxton. It’d be new.

This is not how I wanted to start the new year with you, my love. But still 2022, 2023, 2024. And crying over my B is nothing new. Living in music. The sadness, sorries, selfishness.

Braxton is gone. Virgil is the new fur buddy. You are more beautiful. Our children grow bigger and stronger. But as for myself? When you met me, I was one man. And since I would never ever abandon my family… the one we built together. I’ll be a new man.

Someday. But it’s the present that’s giving me the most trouble. To explain it… Honestly.

Beloved, it’s the number of letters between B – V. My Braxton and Virgil. Alphabetically.

It’s the distance between PetSmart’s front door and Banfield Pet Hospital in the back. Ok.

How about it’s the length from the tip to the base… Eww! But at least you know I still want you, love. Always and forever. “The Closer I Get To You,” Baby Girl, “My Love.”

Sigh, it would be something new if I could speak to you without a piece of monologue like Sheldon Cooper used on Amy Farrah Fowler in The Big Bang Theory. If I could quit the movie lines and the music. You know me too well.

“I need you now. I need you more than ever before, before. I know the man I am is not who I should be.” Dance On Our Graves, Paper Route

Instead of waking up to the old world and expecting Braxton to be here, how about I wake up to the new world—the new existence that I promised not only my son but you?

To be a man of Meditations, not grief? To be a man who meditates on the present and the future, not dwelling on the past. Braxton’s loss. To Live? That’s new. Virgil, That’ll B New

1248 Days Without B III, Day 689 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

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I relate to Joe Stevens in “The Mill,” Bingham Madsen in Fifteen Million Merits, #000000014 from the film 2003 Share? Clarence in The Book of Clarence. Men in routines to a wife, Abi, girlfriends, a mom. I got Virgil. Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton.

Wednesday, June 26, 2024

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Well, not if you’ve “joined Braxton.” That’s become my new way of saying “unalive.” Censorship sometimes, Inspector Echo…

But this morning, after I finished mourning the loss of my Braxton… Is that something that needs to be scheduled? It’s my morning routine. I lie in the darkness, Inspector. Moments later, I panic. And then I realize that my son, Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back to me or for me. And then I lay back down. Sometime later, I find my glasses, and finally, I’m prepared to see the world. Well, no, that’s a lie for two reasons. Fear and effing.

So after I’m done moaning in a completely different way… For legs, breasts, and thighs…

That makes me smile. Braxton thought the best came out of a box of chicken. But then, what’s next on my agenda. My boy, Virgil?

All these motivations I listen to tell me that your success is made in your routine. This week will be so easy. I thought. I would publish a poetry compilation, “GULP,” and that would be that. But if I have accomplished anything, it’s setting a routine for Virgil. Wake up and let him go outside… Sorry, I’m too busy crying. And then I remember how much of an adult I am with my Yabbos collections. And before I start writing…

There’s Virgil. Sometime in the afternoon, Virgil again. Like having a 9 to 5, Virgil is my commute. And before I fall asleep with all the lights on, Yep, you guessed it. Let V out.

And yet I ain’t his Daddy, Inspector. What am I?

I asked Braxton’s aunt once who she thought would win between androids vs. zombies? That’s a weird question, Inspector… Right?

She said androids, but here’s the thing. Neither one is alive. Just like me, Inspector. I struggle with ‘becoming Human’ and ‘Being a man ‘. Am I just going through the motions, like an android? Have I ever truly lived? Inspector, I feel like a lot of things, an android… Inspector, I could be a bot, Infected, a slave, a zombie… I could go on. How to be a man?

I keep going back to fatherhood being the epitome of manhood. A Man Provides, Echo.

And what I should have provided this week, Inspector Echo, is time enough at last…

Every afternoon, though, you’ll find me “spending my dimes, wasting my time” on my belly.

Or on my back moaning…

Routine? Not writing, filming, reviewing? Nothing! Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton

1242 Days Without B III, Day 683 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 360 ~Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper~

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It’s Only A Paper Moon… Nope. According to the publisher, it’s been six years. So, the moon is very real. Moving the tides but not turning the pages of all I’ve written. About love? No, Braxton left three years ago. “Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper”

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Tale 360 ~Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I wake up every day with a heart bursting with love for you. But today, my love, I also woke up with something else. Hmm…

Hope. Such mad hope. But there it is. Huh. I’d rather wake up with a fervent hope, a desire to see my son Braxton. Alive, thriving, and brimming with the joy of life once more.

I love you and our family. I’ll Always Love My Mama. I have a younger sister and two nephews. I’d only need a little paper to make a list of all those that I love.

Speaking of which, why did I wake up with hope… Do not worry, my love; despite my business leanings, I haven’t gone all out, like the characters in ‘Succubus Lord, ‘Satan’s Sorority Girls, ‘Bikini Days, ‘and ‘Backyard Dungeon. ‘ These are just some of the books I’ve been reading in my free time. Love, didn’t I say I have a lot of time to read?

Today, I woke up with a glimmer of hope. It was sparked by a dream, a memory from six years ago when I heard from that publishing company. The dream, though fleeting, brought back a surge of emotions and a renewed sense of possibility. Really?

Time has a way of slipping through our fingers, doesn’t it? I’ve spent the past three years in mourning, and I know there will be more. But please, don’t hold that against me. I yearn for a different kind of love. One that’s not confined to paper or literary aspirations. I want to be a lover, not just a lyricist… sometimes. I want a tangible love that I can hold in my arms and feel in my heart every day.

Someone You Loved… I hope someone you love shouldn’t require so much paperwork, Baby Doll. But again, with all my extra time, there is a lot of it. Now you know why I would rather look at shapely Yabbos all day. Or dream that my Braxton is watching over me.

But I can write this all down. And what does it mean to you, love?

The critic says it’s a mess. My account hints that I need more paper. Every time you hand me something to read, Darling… Well, that’s rare. But being a parent with all our children’s drawings, dealing with grades, and deciding that they want to follow in my footsteps… with writing at least. I don’t want to be their dad on paper or with our DNA. I want to be their dad in every sense of the word, guiding, supporting, and loving them unconditionally. I must.

You, love? Well, you’ve always been more of a More Than Words type of woman. You’ve been my inspiration, strength, and reason to keep going. Writing about us would be enough to put all those books I mentioned to shame. And then there’s the studio, “selling” experiences, and several cosplays. Such love for my business.

Braxton, though, you and our family. Virgil. While I’m a paperboy. Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper

1241 Days Without B III, Day 682 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will