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Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

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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

Meditation 299 ~That’s The B-word Virgil~

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I’m not singing “Bye Bye Love” because of my sons. My B’s memory and his little brother V’s life. But how can we afford to keep our bellies full, keep breathing, and be at all? Life’s a B, or I’m busy jerking to one. Ew! “That’s The B-word, Virgil.”

Saturday, April 26, 2025

Meditation 299 ~That’s The B-word Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… I wish! At this rate, I would settle for a few hundred bucks. Or B III.

Suppose my firstborn son were here. My Braxton. I want to say I’d do anything for him. As Bryan Adams sang, I would tell Braxton, “I would fight for you. I lie for you. Walk the wire for you. Yeah, I’d die for you.” If he were here, he would only ask me to be “The BEST Man I Can Be.” His father? I have his little brother Virgil lying right here. My little Virgil. My love for “them” is beyond words, Dear Lady Lunalesca.

Without the big bucks, how am I going to save us? How the mighty have fallen! Who am I kidding, Lady Lunalesca? I have never been mighty. But I’ve gone from thinking, if I had enough money, I could have found a way to save Braxton to keeping Virgil cool.

Bums lack that type of power. Well, this BUM, anyway. I’ve seen plenty of people who love their fur buddies. And here I am trying to keep myself and Virgil from living under a bridge, my lady. And if Virgil wasn’t here, I would find a bridge and I’d… Follow my B III on his.

Braxton sent Virgil to be a bridge to this life. A barrier to keep me from following him in death. And a beacon to the man I once was. A father. In case you ever wonder how Virgil got his name. But I’m not Dante. He only went to Hell. But I’m alive. And my biggest fear (for the moment) is being a BUM or “a creep. I’m a weirdo.” I trust you enough to share these fears with you.

OMG, am I right? Better I should drool over Rei Ayanami or Kallen Stadtfeld, Lunalesca. What? Is writing about Cherry’s Yabbos or M Anime’s bedtime terrors still not paying the bills? Based on the Day Job schedule I got last night, I had better do something. I got zero hours for one week. Didn’t I say I’ve been wasting valuable paid sick leave for what?

Not to be “Balls Deep In Love” with Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. First, Ew. Second, do I love her? Uh… We met through writing but never IRL, so… Third, I have to stop calling M Anime that. And focus on writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country” or any book. Erotica? Because I Never Can Say Goodbye. That’s The B-word, Virgil.

1546 Days Without B III, Day 987 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

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I didn’t plan on being a Dad. And I can’t count on being a husband. Last I saw, I was $3,000 in the hole. Showing a bunch of anime holes or writing about lady parts equals a whole lot of nothing. My boys need to eat. “Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But no, I haven’t knocked up Braxton and Virgil’s future stepmom. I should stop calling “M Anime” that.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson from The Gargoyle

I didn’t plan on having a son. I didn’t plan on my Braxton. I didn’t plan on being a Dad. But one night, my father walks in with this little ball of fluff. And though I had begged for a dog for years… There’s this tiny thing being flopped into my sister’s hands. My Neo.

That’s what I called him anyway. My Ma quickly changed it to Braxton. But to me, he would always be “The ONE.” And because my sister knew how to make a life. And “I am an equal opportunity misanthrope.” “Here I Am”: Father, Friend, and Fiend. Because I never planned on killing him. But I survived. I learned. And I’ve never forgiven myself, either. I dream, plan, and do nothing.

So that’s why I’m here Monday, April 21, 2025, financially effed. I should have followed.

Who, Braxton? “Too Little Too Late,” as the Barenaked Ladies sing. We’ll get to that. Today, there’s Virgil. 984 days ago, he wasn’t here. Hell! Braxton was very much alive on Tuesday, October 20, 2020, when Virgil was born. Three months later, my Braxton passed.

How much did it cost for tests and trying to keep him alive? “It Doesn’t Matter.” But when was the last check I got over one hundred dollars? And now Virgil’s vet visit, security, and the fact we need to eat… I didn’t plan on seeing forty or on trying to be Virgil’s hero. SIGH

He needs a father. I need to be a man.

Please! I don’t know the first thing about being a man. I’ve got man parts. And what was I doing with that hardware before coming here and talking to you, E? Trying not to come.

Talk about blasphemy because I was the same way on Easter Sunday. Whether it was M Anime’s nightmare that I’m writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” There are thoughts of Cherry’s huge vanilla Yabbos. Then such and such posted Megumi and Ayami from “Ecchi na Onee-Chan ni Shiboraretai,” so I had to cut up their episodes. But this led me to two more sisters I was moaning about in the bathroom. Filming OnlyFans? Nope. “Don’t know why I didn’t come.” “Mama told me not to come.” Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.

1543 Days Without B III, Day 984 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

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Manners! Language! You talk too much! Should I say more about my furry kid? Four years gone. Or what about the walk with his little brother on a rainy morning? Money woes. Manuscripts that will never be published. Manhood. My Evils. “No B In Sharing”

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to SHARE my life with you. Or give it. Oh, to be so noble.

Missing my Braxton, I could be a modern-day samurai. Committing Seppuku? No. That would only dishonor my firstborn son, you, my love, and our family. What? You didn’t think I only studied Japanese Adult Anime. Would you instead have me share more about B III?

Money has also become a concern. I was talking to my Ma the other day and wanted to share with her that I am afraid. A man provides for his family. Husband and father. “What Kind of Man Would I Be,” to admit that I’m afraid I can’t give you and our kids everything you want and need. But I wouldn’t be a good one. “What Makes a Good Man?”

Manuscripts full of bad ones. I was reading “My Writing.”

Yesterday, I kept getting the same response from “the critics.” I share far too much.

Truthful, yes, but too much. There’s “No Hope Left.” Apparently, I can’t say such things. I didn’t tell Braxton that as I watched him die. I don’t tell Virgil that when we walk every day. He needs to believe in a better world. A better me. What about myself, love?

Looking at myself in the mirror, I inevitably say, “I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend.” But what’s the truth? I want to tell the worst things, my Dirty Little Secret.

Braxton was euthanized Sunday, January 31, 2021, because I failed him. I don’t know how to reach Virgil. And I wish I was never born.

Because I am afraid. “It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” So why not share my sins with you? The things I have never done. Is it effed up that I think about this, like sharing food with my boys? Braxton eating hot dogs, and Virgil has pizza bites. You love?

I get off on the idea of watching you with someone being “ravished.” Cuckoldry vs Netorare (NTR). There’s a book in the closet, “Ravishment: The Dark Side of Erotic Fantasy” by Desmond Ravenstone. I’ve been excited by nonfiction violation stories. Exhibitionism is something I’d explore with you. My Sadism. Fear brings out my depravity. I share this with you because telling myself, my boys, I’ve failed. No B In Sharing.

1542 Days Without B III, Day 983 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

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Sitting in “my car” stuck in traffic, hoping I could get a $5 Meal Deal. Fear was riding shotgun. Grief was massaging my shoulders… Where Braxton once sat. And Rage asked, “Are we there yet?” Bereaved, Butt Hurt, but to be Brave? The B’s Hurt Virgil.

Saturday, April 19, 2025

Meditation 292 ~The B’s Hurt Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Eff me! I wish that were a true story this very second. But life’s a bully.

Bereaved, it isn’t a b*tch. Amongst other things, such as the death of my son, Braxton. I think this is the first time I’ve shed a tear for him this week. Or is it the fact my eyes need the lubrication? I’ve taken Virgil for walks on the path behind the house four times, Lu.

It reminds me of good times, but the Rainbow Bridge it’s not. Lady Lunalesca, am I in such a hurry to see Braxton again? In a word… YES! As much as I fantasize about Cherry and her Mum, I beg to see M Anime’s Yabbos and start salivating over a specific model. I mentioned last week that she went private. It’s not good for her image. So, as RuPaul put it, “Supermodel, You Better Work.”

Butt hurt? Angry? Not at her, but at life in general. My God, Lady Lunalesca, this week was one for the books. Now, that’s something I’m angry about. Why the eff am I not writing books and editing. By this point, I should have had so many publications on shelves.

I could use the money. At this point, Lady Lunalesca, it’s what is scaring me the most these days: I’m broke… That, and the idea that I would wreck the car all for McDonald’s food.

“Calm down, Doctor! Now is not the time for fear. That comes later.”
— Bane (2012)

So what has brought on my fear and wrath? Honestly dear Lady Lunalesca, I could write a whole book on that. But if anything, everything that has to do with the Day Job. I can’t survive with or without it.

Be brave… Thou art courageous… Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Oh, my dear Lu. I am terrified by the end of the month or a few weeks into May. I won’t have anything.

I’m afraid that’s about as much positivity as you’ll get from me, my dear Lunalesca.

Wanting to take Ellie and Dina to bed. Revealing secrets. No! What scares me is failing to take care of my boys. And as much as I hate myself, I stay alive to look after them. I am the keeper of Braxton’s memory. And a provider for Virgil. And as I sat there yesterday afternoon with my Grief, Rage, and Fear, my bullies… And I imagined when the money runs out. The B’s Hurt Virgil

1539 Days Without B III, Day 980 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

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I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

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I’m sure I’ll turn to look at the love of my life in bed and then down at my feet and mutter, “Son of a B.” Not in an Eddie Murphy/Marcus Graham sort of way from Boomerang. It’s because B isn’t resting there. V’s trying his best. “Love’s A B, Virgil”

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Something you and Braxton have in common. The reason I’ve been playing the song “Jumper.”

“I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand.”
Third Eye Blind

Must I always jump to memories of my firstborn son, Braxton, who died long ago, long ago, long ago. Four long years, and still, I linger on that first minute. I love it and him.

Only I’m quick to jump onto some mattress with you. Or anywhere, for that matter. Love and lust. Dare I say I might actually like not feeling so sad all the time? I’ll take love over war. As I’ll take Sadism over Masochism. Are those dirty words? If you have read what I have been typing lately in novels. Again, if I sound like anything from Jumper, then be worried.

But Virgil’s here, along with our other children, so you and I, my love, won’t be jumping or bouncing soon.

Son of a B! Am I mad, grieving, horny as the Devil himself. I’m confused and depraved, and even when I wake up, the first thing I think of is that I’ve had enough. Hence, Jumper playing. If only love…

You know what stops me? My son B, B III, Little B, Braxton. I was once… Dad of a B. However, to love like that again, there are no words because there aren’t any answers.

How many words are in the English language again? And I was working with a writer the other day on one of many stories; “The Eve of a Cherry,” “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” The third is an Erotic Horror War Thriller. And thinking of all the horrible things I put in that synopsis. Honestly, is that what love is to me? Is it making someone feel horrible? Like me 24/7. You’re still here.

“In my trials
And my tribulations
Through our doubts
And frustrations
In my violence
In my turbulence
Through my fear
And my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow.”
Will You Be There

My Braxton is not here. But he loved me when I had no earthly or divine idea of how to love myself. And I could honor him by loving myself the way he loved me. The way he chose to love me when he should have been a furball locked away in my sister’s purse.

And that’s why I hear his voice, his bark now. The words “I love you” should mean something. But there are other words… Braxton says, “Don’t be afraid.” You tell me, “Whatever you want.” Virgil and the other kids call me “Daddy.” Myself? “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Love’s A B, Virgil

1535 Days Without B III, Day 976 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 285 ~Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil~

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Things I can say about my “girlfriend” but not my dog. “And I’ll tell myself I’m over you. ‘Cause I’m the king of wishful thinking.” Hell! No more yabbos and posing to dirty tunes. Hello, writing and depraved novelizations. Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil

Saturday, April 12, 2025

Meditation 285 ~Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Would it be evil if it were true? Evil prevails no matter what. But with money…

Braxton might have lived. I would be buried in Yabbos. And I would have all the time in the world to work on my book. M Anime’s book…? We’ll get to that. But you know, I’m just feeling so drained these days. Such is existing.

How is that? I’m only now getting up in more ways than one. Eww! But as usual, it was memories of my son and remembering when I was able to breathe. I’m still struggling with the loss, and it’s a daily battle. I’ve mentioned plenty that while “my” allergies are driving me crazy, there is one benefit. I don’t know if I’m crying over Braxton or if it’s all the pollen and the wacky weather. And speaking of the outside world, will I be able to cut the grass today? Braxton’s yard. Anything and everything for Braxton. Uh, Virgil’s here.

One more hi, yes, hello….

What about Good Morning, Virgil? I took him outside at sunrise. And I learned yesterday that the path where I walked Braxton has now been cleared, so it’s Virgil’s turn.

I need to get off my belly, though. It gets easier when the girl you’re simping for goes private. That explains pulls out list “Dark Shell,” XXX Pawn,” “Kuroinu ~Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru~,” “Voyeur’s Digest,” “Maxine,” and the covers of “Satan’s Sorority Girls.” And I’m also reading Backyard Dungeon 15. When a pair of Yabbos is that important. Something to look forward to. Honestly, they didn’t break me.

Again, we’ll get to that. It’s one Hell of a morning. And the fact that I needed to wake up.

Next week’s going to suck.

So why don’t I get out of this bed and say good morning to the Dining Room Table, Lady Lunalesca? I have six minutes to debate that. It beats saying hello to people any day.

Speaking of beating… off. Thanks to M Anime, I’ve still been working on a couple of novels. I never knew she could be so kinky, or I’m a bad influence on her. Like I am on you, Lady Lunalesca, as I list off every passion project I can think of. But I have climbed out of bed on this Saturday. I could be the forty-year-old man watching cartoons in bed.

But instead, I’ll say hello or hail to you, Braxton, Virgil, and my novels. Being productive… Hail Mary, Braxton, Virgil.

1532 Days Without B III, Day 973 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

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For once, I’m not crying, complaining, or considering I’m not the best father for my boys B and V. My sons are better men and good dogs. As for me? I claimed slothfulness earlier. And now I’m writing. Is that what I call it? Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And while you are my judge, jury, and executioner. What you are not is a librarian or editor.

You are an investigator, my Inspector Echo. And I am a writer. Laughs hysterically, Ha! Can’t I see what day it is? Wednesday, April 2, 2025? But as I told you earlier this morning, the Day Job called. And Braxton and Virgil wouldn’t care to hear about it. Or books…

The Eve of a Cherry is one of the books I want to talk about today. Why? Do you want to hear me grieve more about Braxton or say something unkind about little Virgil Vivi?

Thought so! But The Eve of a Cherry is criminality, wanting to be flattery. And I need a refresher, considering M Anime asked for it. Her nightmare inspired “Nightmare at the Meat Market.” Cherry inspired “The Eve of a Cherry.”

Cherry Roslyn Fae is a murderess, offing the lovers of a man, Cade Xavier Cosgrove. He runs to America, and Cherry’s mother, Anna Cecilia Fae, hoping to avoid the law, flees with Cherry to the States. Both Mum and daughter fall into the hands of Father Bridgeman and The Moondust organization and Bridgman’s pseudo-son, the Boy. Forced into several (adult situations) to cover their crimes, both Cherry and Anna attempt to avoid ending up dead and further deviance and depravity. Only in the end… Uh, The Eve of a Cherry.

Does that pique your interest, Inspector? I sent the whole thing to Cherry, and… crickets.

She’s talking to me again; this was years ago. But of course, I still have my Day Job. My writing…

And now, M Anime is becoming quite the writer herself. Remember Triond? But Inspector… Words!

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” stars Sofía Ana Acosta, a retail employee stalked by a man named Antonio Mateo Correa. In an effort to get away, she takes a night shift from her employer, which turns into working at a brothel. She’s an adult film star in illegal cinema. Cherry Fae Kensington is Mr. Thornfield’s personal assistant who owns Max-Mart (Names). She manipulates Sofía for the CEO with William Atlas Beckford. Though they all seek to escape, control, or destroy the organization. Antonio? Cuck, NTR? Nightmare At The Meat Market.

Do I feel ashamed writing such things? If it fed my boys. Tell them better stories. Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

1529 Days Without B III, Day 970 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

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Have I ever been 100% honest with a woman? I wasn’t 100% honest with B. And I love him like pancakes. V and I? 969 days, we’re feeling each other out. But sending a woman pictures of Sawa sans clothing. Should I lie? Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And love doesn’t have to be synonymous with happiness. I’m never happy. It’s like Pontypool.

You know your husband is a movie buff. And just this morning, I got a sample edition of the book Pontypool Changes Everything. I’ve seen the 2008 movie. Reading books?

Today… Not with our boys or their other siblings around. Virgil is lying here. And my Braxton is somewhere on the Rainbow Bridge checking in. Always and forever, my son.

Anyway, there are the things I don’t want them to know. Like I’m never happy. But I want you. I want… well, the less-than-innocent stuff I’ve been reading about, for us. I finished the “Comfort After Pet Loss Guide” yesterday. I know it always comes back to my boys, love.

But even with Braxton and Virgil, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since… Damn…

Language! Or, as Effie Trinket would say, “Manners!” I’m not one for swearing with my everyday vernacular. But in the throes of passion and rage. My language’s quite Colorful. Heh-heh!

Only can quiet be a love language? I couldn’t teach my boys to be happy. And our family, my love. “I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.” I talk about wanting quiet, and here I go, singing a song by Fleetwood Mac.” That’s rich.

It’s like I have some secret. Or rather, we have some secret. Like how sad I am all the time. Yet, it’s the “Time Of The Season.” Where I can disguise all these tears as allergies. All this damn pollen!

I’ll say that out loud. But Braxton and Virgil can’t read. Uh, Braxton? Let me try to stay on the subject of you and me. And not spill secrets to my sons Braxton and Virgil.

Honestly, I want to write out my darkest fantasies with you, my love. Or read about them, as M Anime has been doing an excellent job writing them. Again, I find inspiration in such dreams. And that’s what I’m looking for. Never happiness. But horniness, inspiration, love, a thought of copious cleavage, titanic tatas, supersized slobber knockers, majestic mammaries. Anything to lessen the pain of… How much time do you have? Always and forever, my love. I’ll have to tell you everything. But not my boys. Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

1528 Days Without B III, Day 969 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will