Tag: Knowledge

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

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When I was a boy, I cried over everything. What am I now? Something, someone who is afraid all the time. My Braxton is still gone, but it wasn’t him or the book I was reading. Blasted allergies? Or what’s become of the U.S.A? It’ll B Written, Virgil.

Friday, June 13, 2025

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Friday the 13th. Happy Friday the 13th, though we do get a couple. So much blood.

“Yes, there will be blood.”

I’m more a fan of John Kramer, aka Jigsaw, than Jason Voorhees. Jigsaw could explain why I was crying today? Then Jason has the whole John Wick thing going for him. A man/monster of focus, commitment, and sheer will. This “Will” doesn’t have that. Guts!

But I still have my son’s blood on my hands. My poor Braxton, my firstborn. With the stroke of a pen, I ended his life on the “day of our lord” Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Seriously, Sophia, they talk about how long it takes for serial killers to get going. Saturday, August 13, 2022, with another pen, I “rescued” Braxton’s little brother Virgil. “How to Save a Life?” Give me sweat, blood, and tears and not ink. That comes later.

FEAR of sweat, blood, and tears? I’m not a hard worker, hard enough, considering what I’ve accomplished today. “Here and Now,” it’ll be written that I was crying while reading.

Can’t I save the love songs for Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom, M Anime. Or shall I call her Julia from “1984.” My Lenina from “Brave New World.” Is she Lorinda from “It Can’t Happen Here?” How about I-330 from “We?” Where am I going with all this other than ideas of dystopian sex? I feel like Winston. I’m weak like Bernard but want to be the Savage. I want to write like Doremus. And I’m a victim, liar, traitor like D-503. A man, ha! All these books, Sophia, they’re all I have to make sense of my identity now. To alliveate the fears of…

A well-read something or other lying with M Anime, someday.

My Julia, as she told me this morning that when we meet for the first time, she should wear some blue coveralls and the red sash of “The Junior Anti-Sex League.” We make plans all the time in texts. All of it is designed to look like ink. Kindle books, love letters, coding, etc. Yet I can’t write out an honest answer. Why was I crying over a book, hm?

Sophia, the book was Spring Break: A Slice of Life Contemporary Harem (Harem University Book 6) by Dirk Knight. No, I was not crying over that. Not even over Braxton.

FEAR grips me sometimes. Hell, like grief over my son always and forever. Writing life. Mine? What’s it saying? The End… It’ll B Written, Virgil

1594 Days Without B III, Day 1035 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 345 ~Don’t B Wasteful Virgil~

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Would I rather have… *Olivier Martinez Impression* 100 MILLION DOLLARS! Or my Braxton alive and well. Virgil’s happiness. And all the promises of their stepmom? How about Jane? What about all the time I’ve wasted in life back? Don’t B Wasteful Virgil

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

Meditation 345 ~Don’t B Wasteful Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Since the critic wants me to be clearer. In English… I ended Braxton, joined MAGA, and wasted time.

Well, not so much the joining MAGA bit. But we’ll get to that Inspector. It’s still effed up that every time I FEAR everything is breaking away, I have to ask, where is my son.

Braxton’s on the Rainbow Bridge, paradise, a box on the nightstand, and some of his ashes are in an urn pendant. I hope some of him is left in his bed. Have we discovered cloning?

No! Because I’m wasting time, and that leads me to MAGA. Do you remember when Elon Musk, the DOGE effers, and the MAGA asshats were asking for workers to share five accomplishments for the week? I’m not a government employee. Though I identify as a Sith. And, at times, share the Empire’s ideals. Dark Side.

But this isn’t Star Wars; this is real life. My life at forty, and what am I doing, my Inspector?

  1. Mourned my Braxton’s passing.
  2. Seen to Virgil’s needs
  3. Texted B, V’s Stepmom
  4. Blogged and “written” daily
  5. Read two harem novels

When you look at it, it doesn’t sound so bad. Side Note: “I fixed” the laptop’s audio, or so I hope. Anyway, what makes me a horrible human being is that none of the things on this list made me a dime. And that’s what I need more than anything. Not love, lust, a life.

“For The Love Of Money.” Excuse me, Inspector, I got a bit distracted by Jane from “See Jane Go TV. Talk about cannons, melons, yabbos…

And don’t I have my own woman for that? Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom, M Anime. See, that’s the other thing that makes me a “Bad Man.” Geez, Inspector, I’m not R. Kelly evil! And nowhere near Trump! And as always, “FDT.” What’s evil, Inspector?

Honestly, what’s done in the love of others is not a waste of time. It depends in a way, hm.

I love my furry boys. Virgil? Again, I consider him Braxton’s Bro. Virgil keeps breathing.

And M Anime? As The Spinners sang “Could It Be I’m Falling In Love.” No moment with her is ever wasted. You ask me, “Could You Be Loved.” By my boys, my Boricua (M Anime), and my books for some bucks. Don’t B Wasteful Virgil

1592 Days Without B III, Day 1033 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

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I’m not a minuteman. No disrespect to the founders. While I’m here, FDT, eff the Jan 6’ers, eff Buzz Windrip and his Minute Men. Eff Article 5’s Moral Militia, and eff the NFFA. I’m a “Sixty Minute Man” for love. And my boys. “B A Minute Virgil”

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I hope you do. Virgil doesn’t. I send him downstairs, but if I don’t follow.

Abandoned. Virgil feels as though I’ve abandoned him. Like father, like son. That’s 2-V, ha.

And he feels that at twenty-eight. Well, four. But in dog years, he’s in his twenties, so he’s, in fact, a man. And what, and I am forty? A man. Your man. Husband, a father.

Honestly, I want to be a Tru Rider… “A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider, that’s me.” Oh, you know I’ll go get a motorcycle and join up with the “Biker Boyz.” Hm.

And that’s what I feel like. A boy. I was thirty-six and bawling like a baby when I lost my firstborn son, Braxton. It’s been a minute. How many minutes have there been since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Math, baby…

That’s something I leave to you. I would be more than willing to live by Gus Fring’s word, “A Man Provides.” And I would work forever and a day to take care of our family.

There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. Being afraid. Every minute, every second. FEAR.

I don’t fear clocks or time. I fear I’m wrong that I’m to blame “The World Is Gonna End Tonight” or in the next five minutes. Do you remember when I told you that’s how I dealt with everything? In five minutes, nothing would matter, and I could let everything go.

“I ain’t got time, leave me alone
Ain’t that much time left
I’ve got to funk you now
Chronomentrophobia”
Chronomentrophobia

“Jeezu,” why can’t one of those things be FEAR? Our sons and daughters, sleep and sex, my love. Those moments, minutes, make me fearless.

And I lie here trying to believe tomorrow will be okay. Staind’s “Outside” is better. Beloved, music makes it better. Or at least I can’t hear everything that terrifies me.

Mornings spent here in our bed, love, reading on harems, humans, hellions, hot S&M sex.

Moaning along with you with every effing filthy, freaky fantasy that we can conjure up. Have I mentioned how much I love you? And that I’m happy you’re mine. Happiness…

Momentarily slip up. Me being happy. Ask me to “Be Not So Fearful.” Finding love.

“Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
You must forget them now; it’s done
And when you wake up, you will find that you can run
Be not so sorry for what you’ve done.”
― Be Not So Fearful

Memories of Braxton guarding me as I lie upon this old mattress. Awake and alive.

Making our children happy. Those are the moments that make me smile. That makes me…

Me. Be A Minute, Virgil.

1591 Days Without B III, Day 1032 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 343 ~Anatomy 101 By Braxton~

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Last night, as I held 2-V, I pointed to his little heart free of worms. V’s guts. I gave him his meds, and he spilled some of those on the bed. Balls? The docs took them before we met. Braxton had balls. B was badass. But me? “Anatomy 101 By Braxton”

Monday, June 9, 2025

Meditation 343 ~Anatomy 101 By Braxton~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… As obvious as “Head, Shoulders, Knees, And Toes.” Or as you were with Virgil HEART, Guts And… oh, right.

I was never anyone’s father. I’m your son always and forever, forever and always, Dad.

And Virgil is my little brother and your son. Remember? Now that you’re sure I haven’t reincarnated. Not as another four-legged ball of fluff, anyway. Which is why I’m here.

“Can you hear? Can you read? Are you receiving the signal? Do you copy me? No, Dad, I don’t sound like Theresa Walker. And I’m not Dead Air. Well, not quite. Kidney failure, and the whole Euthanasia thing. (Bristles). Yeah, I don’t like that word either. But I need you to hear me on this. I know you’re afraid. FEAR feels like it’s taken the very HEART of you, my father. Or it’s broken, there’s no room, it’s given away.

But my HEART didn’t take me, and do you know why? Because I gave it to you. I wasn’t afraid when death smiled at me. For the briefest of seconds, when I couldn’t see you.

“I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me”
The Return of the King

Daddy, I smiled right back at death. I bared my fangs, and I asked, “What took you so long?” Do you know the guts that took? This leads us to our subsequent realization, my father.

Do you have it? GUTS! You and Virgil both. Daddy, you are the bravest man I know. You and I together could face anything. We were not afraid. I’d offer mine, but the fire pretty much took care of that. Okay, that wasn’t funny. My death, MAGA, FDT, Republicans, etc.

At least you’re not crying.

Because you have balls? And Virgil won’t be regrowing his. But you can help him.

Purpose. It is not your purpose to be scared of the backyard fence, the bad place you would go for hours leaving me alone, the beeps and boobs of several glow boxes, those bad words you would say that I didn’t understand. MAGA, Norton, Money, there were so many things. But you would call my name, and everything vanished. Courage.

Honestly, Dad, it was far more than that. “FEAR is the HEART of love.” What I ask is, “Be Not So Fearful. For M Anime, me and Virgil’s potential stepmom, she’ll follow you. “I Will Follow You Into The Dark.” Family. Your woman, more siblings. Dad! Anatomy 101 By Braxton.

“A man trusts the counsel of his best friend.”
Vector

“Ah, merciless Love, is there any length to which you cannot force the human heart to go?”
― The Aeneid

1590 Days Without B III, Day 1031 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

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I don’t draw up architecture plans; I write books. Do I? How about reading stories? “The Long Walk” was good. But the end needed more steps… “The Aeneid.” I named my secondborn Virgil, so I understand why he sleeps. Braxton Barks Library Virgil.

Friday, June 6, 2025

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Hell! After reading “The Long Walk,” whose ending was somewhat, Meh. I’ve sampled “The Aeneid.” Snooze

Or am I lazy? Yesterday was a waste of a day. There is the exception of reading, M Anime.

You know, Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom. I swear I need to bind all of her stories together into one volume of work. And what of my stories? Braxton’s Life Matters.

So much so that I haven’t published either of my son’s two novels. I haven’t gotten around to building that magnificent temple in his memory that I told M Anime about. So that brings us to today. I was walking past my library/study/Braxton’s Bedroom/Virgil’s Bedroom. And what did I see? The Shawshank Redemption. The movie.

The Brooks Hatlen Memorial Library, to be precise. Is that sad? Braxton’s old room feels like a prison library, Sophia.

It was from time to time. Whenever Braxton would get into trouble. But I’ll never forget, on his final days, Braxton somehow found the strength to walk to his room.

Even when I brought him his water bowl, he insisted on going to his room to drink. He did it to spare me worry. I find myself in tears, wishing I had captured those moments. The Long Walk, Braxton Edition.

There’s one more thing I want for his temple, or museum, or mausoleum, or memorial. I was telling M Anime that I want to go all out. A fusion of Egyptian and Greek styles. I want to build something that truly honors Braxton’s Resting Place.

I want it to be built with Obsidian stone. Volcanic glass. There’ll be golden statues of my firstborn son. Paintings, Videos, and my books for him. Idolatry? You’re damn straight.

It’s not like I’m firing the 14th librarian of Congress because I’m a racist MAGA freak, Karoline Leavitt. Effing MAGA and FDT. However, let’s not discuss poor reading material. SIGH

The news? At least my stories are confined to fiction. B III’s existence is nonfiction.

But what about his and Virgil’s stepmom. Before writing a “love” story with her, hmm.

Sophia, I have a burning desire to see my books in bookstores, libraries, and bestseller lists. Just like Cherry boasts about. Am I joking? Whatever.

Then I can worry about the Red Room or, rather, the Black Room and everything I want to do with M Anime. The temple where my son may finally rest in peace. A bedroom where I don’t wake up exhausted each and every morning. Book it. Braxton Barks Library Virgil

1587 Days Without B III, Day 1028 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 338 ~Virgil’s Manifestations On B’s~

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I had the best son ever in B, and then… A heart murmur? Is he blind? He’s getting old. Have you thought about Euthanasia? I said he’d see 20. Nope. I have known a woman for decades, and she’s I’m “All Yours.” I wonder. Virgil’s Manifestations On B’s.

Wednesday, June 4, 2025

Meditation 338 ~Virgil’s Manifestations On B’s~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… I haven’t done anything to protect the bees. How long would humanity last without them? Are we screwed?

As per usual, I’m only thinking about one “B” in particular, my firstborn, my Braxton.

Well, that would be three B’s, Braxton Barks Bradford, a.k.a. B III. Even before his kidney failure diagnosis, I thought about what LIFE would be without him. And I was perfectly prepared to drag him to twenty and beyond. Sunday, January 31, 2021. He’d be twenty now, but he didn’t see his sixteenth birthday, which would have been February 13th.

Inspector, I was preparing for the worse way back then like some effing death curse.

Virgil? How do you think my second-born got his name? The one who guided Dante through Hell. I should have posted above the door after Virgil was rescued and adopted.

“Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here”
― Divine Comedy

What’s LIFE brought to him?

The Secret? Rhonda Byrne wrote about manifesting dreams or something. It’s been years since I read that book. And since I can manifest a nightmare, what about my dream lover.

“I’m staring at a goddess. She’s telling me she wants me. I’m not going to waste one more minute wondering how I’ve gotten this lucky. She smells like angels ought to smell, the perfect woman… the Goddess. Goldie. She says her name is Goldie.”
Marv

Or M Anime. Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom. A Boricua Queen. It took me forty years, Inspector, and what can I tell her? I’ve been “Waiting for a Girl Like You.” Every time I think I’ve driven her away, she comes back. The things she says. I swear to God!

And Inspector, I’ll never be a religious man. But I’m going right to Hell for my B III’s loss. And for the LIFE me and M Anime might have together. Those we could create, hmm.

But Braxton went to the “Rainbow Bridge.” M’s an angel.

So, if I can be blessed to have two such lives. A furry little boy I sent to Heaven. And a woman who is saying, “Fly Me To The Moon,” “Take my body to the moon, watch me glow up,” Take me “To the stars.” I must think very highly of her ha-ha. Black hair, brown eyes (I think), and an incredible body. “But I’m love-stoned, and I could swear that she knows, I think that she knows.” Seriously, Inspector, how many songs was that? The things the two of us send each other. Pictures sans clothing, (pumping) tunes, pornography…

“Make this night what it should be.
Please? Show me the stars.”
Our Mrs. Reynolds

“Perfect.” So why can’t I manifest such things for the rest of my LIFE? Short answer: I don’t remember how. What? Virgil’s Manifestations On B’s.

1585 Days Without B III, Day 1026 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

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A great man once said, “You know nothing about dying, and you know nothing about love!” Let’s start simpler. What do I know about sports? The richer you are, the smaller your balls. “Am I rich enough?” There’s still love around. “B The Ball, Virgil.”

Tuesday, June 3, 2025

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But I’m not a prince, a player, and how many puppies have I had love?

Love hasn’t always been a ball for me. A dance? A game? And to have the balls to do so. That last one is another thing entirely. But when it came to Braxton… An accident.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle (2008)

Honestly, that’s not something a parent is supposed to say about their child. But Braxton.

Love, ask me how I am on this Sunday, June 1, 2025. And you’re seeing this on the 3rd. Ha.

Love is like seeing a fly ball and “I Think I Can, I Think I Can,” get off The Pillows first to go to a ball game. But anyway, I see the ball, and I reach out, and I get beaned in the head. SIGH. Or I chase a ball into the street and… BAM!

But enough about my fur buddy Braxton. And Virgil? Six months of meds… He’ll live.

What about two furry balls that are a little bit closer to my person, if you know what I mean. When was the last time “You and Me” made ‘the bedsprings sing’ in this Lifehouse of ours? I don’t have little white balls, ha-ha. Still, my big, ole black ones feel like they are getting whacked around, and I need to find a hole someplace in you, my beautiful wife.

Wow! Was that crass? I could talk about my fantasies with you, my pretty “Cheerleader.” “Oh, I think that I found myself a cheerleader; she’s always right there when I need her,” right? Being here singing “I Like It Rough.”

Like football? I would actually prefer it if we wrestle. All WWE style. Seriously WWE.

They released Ron Killings, AKA R-Truth. Those bastards. But another time, my love. As for putting another black man down, I need only look at myself in the mirror. Sunday?

Every day, I have the balls to knock myself down like so many bowling pins. And it “Hurts Like Hell.” But much like embracing the pain of losing my firstborn son B. And the perverse pleasurable pain and torment that I inflict upon you. Like the Scorpion said to the frog as they sank to the bottom of the water. “It’s what I do” I’m “LoveStoned.” “Dead in the Water.” I play music, not with balls. B The Ball, Virgil.

1584 Days Without B III, Day 1025 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 336 ~B Where? An Heir~

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I got up because my son B willed it so. I got “UP” because a goddess of a woman, a potential queen, asked for her king. More like Julia getting a rise out of Winston (1984). Am I in a good mood? Blue Balls and communing with spirits. B Where? An Heir

Monday, June 2, 2025

Meditation 336 ~B Where? An Heir~

“Human beings in a mob. What’s a mob to a king? What’s a king to a god? What’s a god to a non-believer who don’t believe in anything?”
― No Church in the Wild (2011)

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… How I long to be a prince rather than a prayer. A soldier rather than a saint. Your son.

That is what I shall be, always and forever, my father. And long live the king. Who will take care of the new young prince? And all of the princes and princesses, my dear father.

We’ll get to that. You were busy with the potential queen… You know who I would have chosen. My favorite girl? Like father, like son. But you are a king, believe it or not, Dad. My pack leader, benevolent God, again a king. And always my Dad. But there’s Virgil.

“’You are a good man with a good heart, and it’s hard for a good man to be a king.”

So why not show Virgil that more? I was born to raise Hell but not bring down Heaven above. Though that is a thought. Did I mention other princes and siblings? My little brothers and sisters who Virgil will protect.

“All of my life, I have lived by a code, and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman, and defend your country.”
― Prince Hector, Eric Bana

That you will do, father. If everything works out. But you continue to look at me as if to say I’m an example of things not working out. If you had it your way, I would live forever, Dad. And since you and my potential stepmom/queen have been trading songs, here’s one for you: “Who Wants to Live Forever?” Again, like father, like son. Us.

Daddy, I do live, but maybe it’s all too heavy. What, Virgil, is only eleven pounds? However, you’re still wondering how you feel about that ha-ha. Seriously, a man alone.

No man is an island. Not even you, Dad. And you were meant to be a king. Dad, you rule.

Why did I put it like that? A teenage boy?

Maybe I was that young when you were still in your twenties. My Old Man, old man. Do you remember when we would watch “Reign: The Conqueror?” And you would tell me that the meaning of life was that song, “Worthy Of Your Soul.” Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul. And that’s what you are still meant to do. Reign over empires, Dad.

Your writing, your future woman, for in my dreams, I win. When you have a two-legged son. And will you give him my name? You did tell the potential queen. Someone an heir to your throne. And notice that you have not cried once since we began. I’m right, Dad.

B is where? With you, always. B Where? An Heir

For I have made you a father of many nations. I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you.
― Genesis

Forever worthy of my great father’s fame!
― The Aeneid

1583 Days Without B III, Day 1024 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 333 ~Zero To Braxton, Virgil~

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I’m reading Stephen King’s The Long Walk. Writing is like participating. I need to win. I’m not my Virgil’s hero; I “failed” my Braxton. But I’d rather have pet bills than euthanasia papers. Speaking of caring. There’s a girl. Zero To Braxton, Virgil

Friday, May 30, 2025

Meditation 333 ~Zero To Braxton, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… “Pontypool Changes Everything,” maybe? I’m afraid not. I won’t be buying any books this week. Paycheck?

Zero. That’s for last week. And this week, I didn’t fare much better. But I was at the Day Job, and if last night was any indication, I was exhausted. The week I worked won’t even pay for Virgil’s Vet Appointment today. I don’t look forward to reading Virgil’s bill.

Sophia, I didn’t want to read Braxton’s Euthanasia papers either. But they’ve rested on the coffee table for four long years. As long as Virgil’s been alive. Keeping Virgil alive.

“And even though you passed. Going on four long years. Still waking up late at night crying tears.”
I Wish

That’s the rub. And yes, nobody needs to be singing any R. Kelly. My son B III is a hero. Braxton is Love. Braxton is Cruel. Braxton was close to Happiness. Like “Kill is Kiss.”

More Pontypool? Because reading bills, bottles, and bureaucracy kinda sucks.

Like reading my works? I’d like to stay up long enough to write. Why’d I choose this way? I chose nothing for if I had well… “I’ll always love my Mama,” but mistakes were made.

“I chose nothing. I was born, and this is what I am.”
Achilles, Troy (2004)

Achilles wasn’t a hero. Hercules was. The animated one, not Kevin Sorbo’s edition. MAGA-loving douche. One more reason I prefer to keep my head in the pages. While this is a time for heroes, I think the American consensus seems to be, as Tina Turner sang, “We Don’t Need Another Hero.” And did I hear correctly that the Cheeto and Chief want a dome? SIGH.

Figuratively, I hope. But you never know. I don’t want to talk politics, but we could be living in Paradigm City from The Big O.

Speaking of anime and The Big O, there’s my boys’ potential stepmom, M Anime. “One More Night” was spent texting her. The Phil Collins version, not Maroon 5. But I keep thinking about how she said their “Sunday Morning” reminded her of me. My heart…

Anyway, last night, it wasn’t only “Sexxx Dreams.” What comes after? If everything goes according to plan, the “Possibility.” Hell, possibilities. After coming comes creation.

“The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation.”
Jonathan Larson

Creating children, can we have a home, “I can be the man you need me to be,” I want to tell her. But Sophia, the last promise I made to someone. I told my B III that he’d be ok.

With M Anime, I’d be both hero and villain. Like Braxton. Zero To Braxton, Virgil

1580 Days Without B III, Day 1021 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 331 ~That’ll B Rehab, Virgil~

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Now, why did I spend around $20.00 on 5-hour ENERGY when I’ve detoxed. It took a week. My legs had me on The Long Walk. Working but not getting paid. Heading towards Banfield with another furry son. And a ball and chain, hmm. That’ll B Rehab, Virgil.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

Meditation 331 ~That’ll B Rehab, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Because there is no finality, forgiveness, and no finish line when it comes to FEAR. If there was…

Well, I passed it and kept on walking. Braxton passed Sunday, January 31, 2021. And yes, I read another chapter of The Long Walk by Stephen King, also known as Richard Bachman. So there’s that.

This leads me to today. I noticed my legs had stopped hurting. Detox complete from 5-hour ENERGY, just in case you were wondering why it took me so long to get here today, Inspector. It took getting clean, B and V’s ‘potential’ stepmom M Anime, some sisters, and Cherry. And a Happy Birthday to Cherry, who turned 28 on the 28th. An author and a playwright with a great pair of melons I’ve never seen. Not about me, I’m afraid.

Dear Inspector Echo, I am consumed by FEAR every hour of every day. But as a great man once said…

“I’m too old for this shit.”
Roger Murtaugh, Lethal Weapon

Too old to not be happy, always horny, which again this morning’s shenanigans, and to be dreaming of seeing Heaven ‘by accident’ so I can see Braxton again. “Livin’ On A Prayer” is not working for me. As I walked Braxton’s little brother, Virgil, today. I had a funny thought. B’s walking with us since I do wear an urn pendant filled with his ashes.

Anyway, then I started thinking about a time when I wasn’t afraid. That’s easy enough. Inspector, it was when I would wake up from a nap and see my son, my protector, sitting at the corner of the bed, staring at the door. And I realize that nothingness before him.

Braxton was staring directly at FEAR, keeping it at bay.

And then I understood, in part, why Virgil’s panicked little run annoys me so much. Inspector, he’s running from FEAR. And he brought a few of his, too, which we’ll see on Friday at his vet appointment. Besides draining my bank account, I don’t know how to rid him of his FEAR because mine is right beside him. It’s like that scene from I Am Legend when Dr. Neville (Will Smith) was injured, and his dog Samantha held the line.

Sam protected him from the infected man and his dogs. Virgil and I… we’re screwed. And speaking of screwing… M Anime. She said Maroon 5’s “Sunday Morning” reminded her of me. Is this love “Hanging By A Moment” For my heart, That’ll B Rehab, Virgil.

1578 Days Without B III, Day 1019 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will