Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

I’m 39, which I hate. But I would’ve loved it if my son saw 19. Happy Birthday, Braxton. But there are so many days that involve people, sigh. And tomorrow is all about love, which has come and gone for me. And what about 2V. “Tomorrow Will B V-Day.”

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Tale 227 ~Tomorrow Will B V-Day~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You have my forever. But, uh oh. Guess what day it is. Happy Birthday, Braxton!

I know you’re asking yourself how many days belong to my son—counting 1108 now. And how long have we been together? That’s a dangerous question for a married man to ask. There are a lot of those going on three years. And still, my heart grows, my love, daily.

That should be more than enough reason to get out of bed each morning. Because I love you, our children… I’m still working on me. And I can’t promise you I’ll get there, my love. I’ve hated myself longer than I had my son. Have I mentioned I hate thirty-nine?

And there’s so much left to do, love. I could do my John Mayer impression. “One thing I’ve left to do. Discover me, discovering you.”

But you have your day. Hell! You have a lot of them. You probably rival my little furry son’s love. Only, can you let today be his? Am I asking you? Hmm. Or am I trying to be some alpha male, better known as an asshole? But no. I’m only a grieving Dad, missing my little boy every single day.

I don’t even take today off. I spend two days crying. But on the day my son came to be. And here’s something to bake your noodle. Sunday, February 13, 2005, is the day I chose for him. I never got an answer on Braxton’s birthday, but it was sometime in April. That’s when I met my firstborn son. And every day after… our tomorrow, always, forever… Valentine? Braxton was/is a saint, amongst other things.

And, I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. I know you still do. As I you, my love. Hell! Even the playlist I’m making, John Mayer, Lewis Capaldi, Muse, and I can go on. I told Braxton I would find him a mom someday. And now Virgil is here. And I didn’t know what day I would find him. Or the day I would see you, love. But I keep telling everyone I’m here. But that’s a lie because I’m seeking my little B III today. Always.

It’s like something from The Big Bang Theory, “Emily or Cinnamon,” ha-ha. Words of love for my firstborn, for you, and so many. Even Virgil and myself? Today, Let It Be. Tomorrow Will B V-Day

1108 Days Without B III, Day 549 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 225 ~WILL B Gaming Virgil~

“Can we go out and play,” B III would ask whenever I was writing, wasting game characters or waking up. And then he got ancient. B’s 19th birthday is on Tuesday, but he only saw 15th. And 2V? Does V even know how to play? “WILL B Gaming Virgil.”

Sunday, February 11, 2024

Tale 225 ~WILL B Gaming Virgil~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. No helmet, face paint, or even tears. You’re not watching football “per se.” Or invading the Capital.

And Braxton? I cried about him a little yesterday. And you’ll cry buckets on Tuesday. Wednesday will be a crapshoot. You’re not looking for love from any chick. Virgil’s here. V has safety, security, and something in Braxton’s dish. But Love? There should be more!

I mean that. And yes, I blame myself. When Braxton was here, you could pretend you were an average guy. There should be buffalo wings, shrimp, chips with salsa, everything.

Hell! Braxton was\is everything. You don’t know whether you want this damn month to be over. But then again, since you continue to count the days since Braxton’s passing… 1106 days and counting. I’m glad that you have better Math skills than I did last week with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Red Rising, Possibly?
    Completed… Red Rising, Backyard Dungeon 5
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 007, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Yes, it was a HARD week. Will you ever stop making jokes like that? According to your bank account, you should. But no. You can’t buy “Backyard Dungeon 6.” Entertainment? You will find little of that today. Unless the STUPID Bowl commercials have improved this year. Again, why can’t you enjoy a bunch of muscled millionaires making their way up and down the field? Or at least find the time to play a video game. Or even just read about it? Besides checking for cash, you look for books to read. So what’s next? Hmm.

There’s “Princess Tamer” and “Golden Son.” THEY won’t be talking about real women or your son. Only you can write about them. But your “Lazy Ass” with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Princess Tamer Collection?
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You can’t be a regular guy. And be excited for what today will bring. Well, here come the tears. You’ve given up on being positive. Your son’s lack of existence and your continuing to do so. No wonder you need a distraction. Because I know I had plenty. But you?

Are you looking for advice? There are two things I want to say. But an energy shot is stopping one. And Braxton’s “Shrine” sits above the second. Braxton’s Life Matters, that’s how you end things every day. Your son’s memory, manuscript, and the man, the Dad he loves. What happened to that man? Virgil asks that or dreams about it.

No advice but a question. “Can You Come Out and Play?” WILL B Gaming Virgil

1106 Days Without B III, Day 547 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

Where do I go? Hell! I need to focus on getting one foot out of bed, and then what? Even when B was dying and could barely see, he knew where he was going. That is until he was on his belly in the hospital, asking me to take him home. “Path B For V.”

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Tale 221 ~Path B For V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Can you imagine what that feels like? To open your eyes and know you’re a sinner. Finding God…

If I ever did my Echo, I don’t know if I would laugh, cry, or get to swinging. Now, I could go into all the reasons to fight in this day and age, but here’s the sin besides waking up.

Gospel 221, Willing To Lie Braxton, three years ago Inspector.

One more day, where I admitted what had happened to Braxton. And with the critic being incapable of going backward. I had Braxton put to sleep because of Kidney Failure.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t remember him walking from his bed to his water bowl as he was dying. I brought his water to him. And Braxton’s bed was soaked all with the sickness that had overtaken my little son.

Which leads me to the paths I walk, Inspector. The first step is always out of my bed. Is it more of a sin to give in to my sloth? To know that every additional step is only to sin again. Or is it in knowing that “Every Little Step” I take signifies nothing? This Existence Inspector Echo is nothing. Again, I have three years to go off of. Writing about Braxton and me. Sigh

As I’m not Bobby Brown. Hell! How many girls have I gotten up for? Did I really just say that, Inspector? We’ll get there. But for fifteen years, when I woke up. “Hey Little B!”

Make Way For The King. And Braxton walked as my little prince. The world belonged to us, or it would.

That’s what his Daddy told him. And even when I was exhausted. Braxton would make sure to defend this castle, his home. I wish I could walk like that again. Is B watching me now?

What about with Saga 221 ~Y B V Gushes~? Hell! I didn’t want him to see his Dad like that. Though Braxton always had his toys. And then there was that talk about his Aunt. But that didn’t get him in as much trouble as other things. The things I would send him to his room for so I could… Anyway, his Daddy on his belly doesn’t compare to PetSmart.

The center aisle is still hard to tread. Braxton’s passing…

But getting out today? One step, Path B For V

1102 Days Without B III, Day 543 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 220 ~Braxton and Virgil Financial~

Sons, sustenance, and sex… I also buy a lot of books, kindle, and audio because people suck. I need to buy speakers. My playlists are “Fire…” No! But I’m burning money like I did B three years ago on the 4th. Not cool! “Braxton and Virgil Financial.”

Tuesday, February 6, 2024

Tale 220 ~Braxton and Virgil Financial~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And seeing as how we make more money than Jesus. And ain’t that pretty blasphemous?

We should go and see The Book of Clarence again. Or if we stay in, we could watch Brewster’s Millions. In God We Trust, right? And yes, I tend to spend money like it’s going out of style. And I haven’t talked to “God” since Braxton passed. Even mercy cost

Today, which would be… Friday, February 2, 2024. I was going over the books, darling. Yes, I talked to Sophia about my ever-growing Study. I have to finish “Exodus” for my weekly read. And no, not the Bible book, but the one written by Imogen Linn. And then there’s still Red Rising, which is good but long.. Or I’m lazy. Braxton? Let’s say mourning. And I bought Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 the audiobook. The money I’ve given Eric Vall… sigh.

Three years ago today… Gospel 220 ~ Will’s Sound Of Silence~. All I could hear was the sound of my sobbing. And there has been plenty of that today. But most of this afternoon has been the sound of me trying to empty our accounts. More books, more books! There has been the tick-tock of the clock as I waste so much time. And what about Virgil. He’s the one that reminded me where some of our cash should go. How To Be A Man

Not a father because he is not my son… That’s a cruel thing to say. Isn’t it? When in Rome.

I mean, I took him in. I’m not sending him back. But the expense, love…

I’ve defined love before. But what about the term priceless? That’s what Braxton was, is.

And this time last year, Saga 220 ~ Don’t Worry Your Life Away~. There’s always money.

But for Braxton, I would have spent everything and more. Even if I didn’t have it, I would have found a way. Whether rhyme or crime, right? But what about all I have right now? I want to believe that a man is more than money. I mean, with us, that’s always been the case. You’re no “Gold Digger.” Well, unless we’re talking Red Rising again. I “love” books. I don’t burn them. But I love Braxton. And on Thursday, February 4, 2021, I See Fire. Love and money burn. Braxton and Virgil Financial.

1101 Days Without B III, Day 542 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

What have I done in the last 1100 days since my B III died? He would be/is approaching his 19th birthday. I swear he was going to be half my age. And with my two hands, I would have been the one saving us. But instead, Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

Monday, February 5, 2024

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And I wouldn’t precisely call prayer as looking busy. Yesterday, I should’ve… Even if it did nothing.

I do mean Thursday, February 4, 2021. And where were these busy hands then, Madam?

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~. “Now, with these hands,” I was committing yet another crime. First B III, then me, and then “Dirty Diana.” Without a second thought.

Only I’ll admit I should have been begging for Braxton’s forgiveness all the more, as it was by my hand that B met his end. And I should have been there. “I See Fire” B III.

I saw him die, though. Did I need to see him burn as well? I’ll pay for my crimes; I do not doubt that. And in knowing I’m destined for Hell, I would choose the fire. But with my Treachery… Ice will suffice, I know.

But the rub is this, Madam. Though I have ended my boy, Braxton, myself, and Diana with the stroke of a pen and the push of a button. At the end of the day, I am still here with V.

Any ideas? You know where my hands have been. Oh! What will I tell the man in the mirror this week? Do I mean myself? Today is Thursday, February 1, 2024. And I’m here, huh! So today didn’t go exactly to plan because I shouldn’t be doing anything. Cry, Die?

Don’t I wish? I could say I have a few good ideas, but it wasn’t inspiration, the insanity of losing my son. Or even the indifference that led to his death. Madam, it is fear.

Ask me why these hands do anything, and it’s like Dead Air’s “I Don’t Wanna Die.” That’s from Theresa Walker, to be precise. This is ironic. Because all I want to do is see my son again. And you can ask THEM at the Day Job why I do what I do. Let me fall off a ladder or break my neck doing something. One more reason that we’re talking today. I still hate the place. And if it was between the Day Job and Hell… I’d rent out the Day Job and live in Hell. But my boy won’t be there. So I’ve been asking B III. How do I “See You Again”
hmm?

With Daddy’s two hands doing… Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

1100 Days Without B III, Day 541 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 218 ~B’s Counting On V~

I don’t bitch about, ban, or burn books because they’re “woke” Is the GOP still using that word? But if I ever came close, it would be a math book. Learning to count the money I don’t have, the boy I lost, or the boobs I’ve seen. “B’s Counting On V.”

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Tale 218 ~B’s Counting On V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. And besides looking at yourself, there are worse things? Braxton not breathing; your bank account and numbers…

You mean numbers in general, not just money. But yesterday didn’t help matters. As Lamar put it: “Give me just enough money for a little bottle of 40 ounce and a bucket of chicken on the way to the poor house, huh?” Replace 40 with Powerade. And bucket of chicken with a bag of tacos. Uh, like, you don’t have a box of chicken in the fridge either. I swear you need a better job. But did you see the Day Job schedule? I don’t think you’ll be seeing freedom anytime soon unless you drop dead sleeping. Not economically viable.

But again, money isn’t the main issue. Hell! Between January and February… Sunday, January 31, 2021 will always be the worse. Sunday’s Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Red Rising, Possibly?
    Completed Uh, Exodus by Imogen Linn
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 007 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

How could I focus? And how will you? Do you see what day it is? Sunday, February 4, 2024, sigh. But no, we’re talking three years ago. I survived two of the worst days of this existence. But don’t worry, little brother, there are more.

Thursday, February 4, 2021: Braxton’s Cremation
Wednesday, February 10, 2021: The Collection of Braxton’s Ashes
Saturday, February 13, 2021: Braxton’s 16th birthday, now 19th
Wednesday, February 14, 2024: Valentine’s Day

Are there any more days you need to be worried about? Besides the next two weeks with the Day Job. And speaking of being a man. You need to change the air filter soon. And if you have cash, Special K’s birthday is on the 25th. Nope! Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Red Rising, Possibly?
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 007, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You haven’t talked to your former maid in years. Hell! If you were a “certain type” of man, you could write a book. And then speak on FOX News after Special K sues you. Ha!

Oh! And books! Are we not going to talk about how you read Exodus… Again, it was not the Bible but the one with uh nuns and priests, and it was only 53 pages long. You are lazy. Only there’s still Red Rising, which is 401 pages. What are you doing with this existence? Are you waiting for Satan’s Sorority Girls 5? And while you’re doing that, you’re sleeping. Fifteen Million Merits, NXT Vengeance Day today, and The STUPID Bowl on the 11th, too. Counting the days without Braxton… with Virgil? B’s Counting On V

1099 Days Without B III, Day 540 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

“Get down, B!” How many times did I say that in 15 years? If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t always directed at Braxton. Only the time it really mattered… The time to end his suffering. To live up to his name… Be Free, B III. Today, B Down, V Button.

Wednesday, January 31, 2024

Tale 214 ~B Down, V Button~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I killed my son. Braxton Barks Bradford died three years ago on this day. Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Inspector Echo, that is the only sin that matters today. With these two hands, I ended his 15 years of life. Not existence, Echo. No! Zombies exist. I believe in ghosts, too. My B III? I’ll even give God a shot. Because Only God Knows Why, if I ever prayed for anything, it was my boy’s life. If there was a button to choose between Braxton’s life and mine. Dead! I would die for Braxton to live without question. Death doesn’t frighten me. The how…

How do I do this, Inspector? Any of it? Death is so much simpler. How simple is it? B III.

I pushed a button on a screen. I put pen to paper. Hell! Before all of that, I pushed Braxton.

And now I push tears out of these eyes. It’s my fourth time crying today. Tuesday, January 30, 2024. Because I only want to push a few buttons come the day my boy B died.

The push of a needle…

The Vet didn’t kill him. I carry that weight… all six pounds of what was left between myself and the Day Job. Now, ask me why. Because I didn’t want to push buttons to tell a story. I pushed the buttons on alarm clocks because I was too tired. Exhaustion. Inspector, I am lazy and left loveless. Because I killed my Braxton. What about Virgil?

There is no V button for this. How To Save A Life. How To Love A Life. Excuse me, Inspector.

To my firstborn son Braxton:
I still don’t know how to do it B III…

2021 Gospel 214 ~Will’s “Dæmon” Day Afternoon~ The Last Day
2022 Chronicle 214 ~Be Curious And Not Psychotic~
2023 Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

This is the third year Little B. The last thing you need is another of my lists. Or what about me telling THEM that it was okay… I’ll never forget the look you gave me, my Braxton. “Daddy, can we go home, please?” And I knew then, and you knew too as I gathered your things. But I don’t know how to do this, son. I’ll never know. As I push the same buttons to spell out, I love you, Always. B Down, V Button

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

1095 Days Without B III, Day 536 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

The last time I felt okay… It depends on how you define the word okay. For most of these 39 years, it’s always been a response to an order. But then Braxton wished he’d be okay, so I would be too. I hope he is because I’m not. To B Okay, Virgil.

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Tale 213 ~To B Okay, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… I want us to be okay, to be good. We gonna be “Alright.” Like Virgil?

Because without Braxton… I hear these words echo in my head… “Death is your gift.” It’s what I woke up to as I dragged my corpse out of bed. Then, I shut off the alarm and went back into the darkness. The longer I stay asleep, the longer I don’t bother the world. And since you are my world… It’s an effing excuse, for sure. But it’s also a favor.

Except when it comes to my Braxton. Yesterday or any day ending in Y. I was thinking about how best to honor him. Well, other than keeping my promise and failing to achieve it again.

I will “BE VALIANT” Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am. I want to be the person my dog thinks I am. I’M NOT!

So what comes next? If I had been BETTER before Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~. It wouldn’t be necessary. I would be thinking about what to get him for his 19th birthday. Instead, all I could do was keep him with me three years ago. And then, well… love

TRADITION! As in me complaining about putting a man in the dirt. My granddad, to be precise. Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~. And I said I’d rather be working. It was working my Day Job and the rage I felt there that would kill my son B III.

My indifference with him to hide my fury. My indifference when it comes to you, hiding my grief. Good Luck.

No, I can’t hide my sadness. Not this week. Hell! I’ve cried three times, and it isn’t even 10:00 AM. And tomorrow, I’m going to be anything but okay. And going on three years now…

So, as much as I want to fix things and ask you to stay, it’s as confusing as my first love with my son. Sigh.

I asked him to stay. But I wanted him to go if it were better for him. And if it hadn’t made the decision… Is it any wonder I want the ones I love in collars, leashes, and chains? Pretty wifey and dogs? Not funny. I’m going to cry again.

But even with buying three black dog toys and movies? I’m pretty effing’ far from okay. To B Okay, Virgil

1094 Days Without B III, Day 535 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

The last good thing that I’ve done. Define good? Being a father is good. I was/am Braxton’s father. A lot of good That did him. I fed Virgil and washed Braxton’s rug. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Braxton was/is good. “Remember, Do Good, Die Great”

Monday, January 29, 2024

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this one… In the spirit of transparency, I heard this rule from a kid long ago.

And not my kid. My little boy. My Braxton. He lived up to this rule and then some. B III.

Say his name! Braxton Barks Bradford. Yes, Dear Madam, I am here. Now or will be quite shortly. Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. For you, it’s Monday, January 29, 2024. But for me, it’s Friday, January 29, 2021. I may have stolen today’s rule. But I wrote a lie.

Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus, “My Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure.” B III.

What I should have said is this: “My son Braxton is dying of kidney failure.” And on that Friday, I sat on my hide, much like I’m doing today, and I did nothing! Do Good?

No, Madam, I MESSED Up!

Braxton did good! Braxton died great! That little boy of mine fought to his very last breath, and why? He wanted every single second. But why? For me? His old man. B did good because I promised him. One day, I would be great! And if I did that very thing, my Braxton. I look at the yard that he once protected. The gate is falling apart. Like him?

I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to try and be good or plan on dying great. Not me! Bullets, Boobies, and Boys. His last year alive, I was excited. Me and Braxton’s apocalypse.

He saw me through 2020 and then the start of the new year… Death. He did good one last time. ALIVE!

And how do I repay him? While I’m all Dawn of the Dead, let me tell you something, Madam Justice.

“I realize there are some things worse than death, and one of them is sitting here waiting to die.” Kenneth

And that explains the dreams I’ve been having lately. I’ve dreamt about how Joe wanted to burn Mallard down (The Mill). Jules says, “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd” (Pulp Fiction). And how Bing, at the very least, tried to tell the truth (Fifteen Million Merits.) Even from the grave… a box on the nightstand, my little boy, my soul, Braxton does good.

I told his Aunt that. And I’ve figured it out. I read books and watch shows. I sing “I Have A Dream.” I feed Virgil, calling myself a friend. What does Braxton want? Live Daddy! Remember, Do Good, Die Great

1093 Days Without B III, Day 534 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will