Tag: Knowledge

Meditation 305 ~Virgil And Braxton’s Study~

WillLeave a comment

I said I’d write 5000 words today. A dollar a word, please! All that’s left in the bank and I could be sitting on a goldmine possible. Two novels for Braxton, a series for Cherry. A duo for M Anime. But my life story is in Virgil And Braxton’s Study.

Friday, May 2, 2025

Meditation 305 ~Virgil And Braxton’s Study~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But if not. I could at least clear off my table/desk. Or make the room comfortable.

My boys, Braxton and Virgil, spend all their time with me anyway. Unless they are puking, being punished, or their Dad is pushing buttons that make women moan. Or me.

Though it’s been more like swiping as I read M Anime’s stories. We’ll get to that in a minute, Lady Sophia. Or however long it takes for us to have this talk. I’m wasting time.

I don’t mean with this conversation. It’s more like I have too much on my plate. Uh, aren’t I broke? I haven’t bought a new urn to keep Braxton in. And there’s Virgil’s vet visit. Honestly, I knew there was something I forgot to add as I was writing out a grocery list yesterday. Rotisserie chicken, pizza rolls, Virgil’s health.

And I don’t have any books on dogs that don’t involve them dying or their owners. And yes, even now, I long to join my Braxton. But Virgil’s here, so I must read up on how much money I’m losing and my latest humiliation on Facebook. And some four hundred words… I enjoy working on my and M Anime’s novel “Cries Come Women, Come Country.”

I keep saying that Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom is awe-inspiring. Gotta, stop calling her that!

“She Drives Me Crazy,” and I can’t help myself. I should read more about the Shadow Work she wants me to get into. She’s writing me all this free stuff, and I’m buying more books.

I wish. I need some books on starting a rebellion.

Rebellions, revolutions, or ravishing pretty girls. Ew! The things I think about in the dark.

When I’m the one who’s screwed or effed, whatever. Did you read my last paycheck?

Sophia, SIGH, it was $35.00. I had to take $300 from savings, and none of that went towards Virgil. But by rhyme or crime I’mma get mine. Or rather his. V is not dying today. What I mean is, I’m determined to take care of Virgil’s needs, no matter what.

And if I die, it will be in a purely Biblical or Shakespearean type of way. Did I mention that if I’m not reading about grieving my firstborn, most of my library consists of, um…?

Well, doing things that make parents. Not with $5,000. And that’s nothing compared to the time I’ve wasted. Reading, Writing, Earning. Virgil And Braxton’s Study.

1552 Days Without B III, Day 993 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 303 ~Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES~

WillLeave a comment

“Now, did you read the news today?” Sorry, but no. The Genesis of America is that things get worse. Modernized but worse. It leads to a friend’s bad dreams. But we compared ourselves to Winston and Julia. Classic reading. Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Meditation 303 ~Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Though I woke up this morning, uh, not feeling that way. Not good, not bad. Super, super (super!)

Listen to the song “Teen Idle,” and you’ll get it. But who knows? Maybe you won’t. It’s the same thing with my writing. And didn’t I tell myself I was going to be positive today?

What can I say? Old habits die hard. I have a thing for sisters in pigtails and bikinis. Uh, Ew! And then there are the rules. My rules. Do you remember, Dear Madam Justice, Echo?

Do you remember Rule Fifteen, I Take My Own Lumps? ONE of the things that rule means is that I take responsibility and accountability, and pay my own way. Big bill? Inspector, yes, it was a VERY big bill that I handled. If I take care of myself, Braxton, and Virgil, “we gon’ be alright.”

But Braxton isn’t alright. He lives in books now, Inspector. I’m trying to remain positive. And I also read that I went a week without any self-fulfillment. Sisters, Pigtails, Bikinis…

“I’m sorry, I just need one minute to make sure I look good. Do you think I look good, Mr. Armstrong?” ― The Cleveland Show

Yes, my dear Echo, that’s all it took to break me. But I did enjoy my streak while it lasted. And Virgil was already in Braxton’s room. I swear he’s communing with B III’s spirit.

Meanwhile, I’d usually be drooling over pictures of Cherry’s Yabbos or the confession she wrote once upon a time. And speaking of writing, Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom has been doing plenty of that lately. Again, I shouldn’t be calling M Anime the stepmom. But um…

Inspector, I swear M Anime is trying to send me a message through her writing.

So yeah, you are not Lady Sophia. I leave books and edits to her. But M Anime first wrote about a fictional first time in a brothel. That led to “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” She asked about Cherry’s sexual characterizations, and so I shared “The Eve of A Cherry.”

With that, she told me about another dream. Sex? Xu? “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” And most recently, she shared her “dream” of her and The Associate having sex. Wow!

So what does it mean when a woman is having “Sexxx Dreams” and compares her partners to you? Book boyfriend material? Anyway, as long as I ignore the news, I’m reading plenty of good things. Erotic books, bills paid, streak before… Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES

1550 Days Without B III, Day 991 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve sat in bed more times than I can count, wishing for the end. I tell myself the world will end in five minutes, and nothing else will matter. But B died, I go broke, and in my head are four book ideas. There’s no time. “There’ll B Time, Dad”

Monday, April 28, 2025

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “And it’s not too late. It’s Never Too Late.” To what, hear the truth. Neither of us wants that.

“Should I say it out loud?

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

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.

Say the thing you’re afraid to say. I can help you. Say it out loud, no matter what it is, no matter how bad. I promise, I will help”
― The Last of Us

We’re not Republicans. We’re not MAGA, my father. You’re not screaming, “I don’t want reality.” Dad, you’re brave enough to face reality, risk, and the real. And what is that?

Well, if you’re going to be stuck in the past. Listen to me, Dad. Why can’t we be stuck together in those car rides listening to ROCK music? However, I would prefer you weren’t listening to this particular song from Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late.” Seriously, Daddy, I was so young; one or two when that came out. I hated car rides, not music.

Speaking of which, I remember when you came back, not from the bad place but somewhere you would write without me. I want to see you like that again, Daddy.

Because there will always be time to be sad, scared, to sing of “The Cursed Earth.” But to remember my little brother Virgil. Not your other son, but your son. When you and he walked along the same path we once did, before I got old, fat, and sassy. How I miss those fried stick thingies you would buy. Those days, my grandma would bring a lot of food. Or when you’d say, “Well, it’s E-Day.” And you’d be sad, but lobster and steak, Daddy. Honestly, why do you think I love my favorite girl so much? Yes, she had big, soft yabbos she’d let me lie on, but she also shared plenty of good things. Like my Dad being…

Happy? Now, that wasn’t you.

But there’s time, Dad. And that’s what has been bothering you for months. There is no time to make money. The Day Job, writing, and anything else you could imagine.

Honestly, you’ve been reliving the moment you would never see me again. B free indeed. But isn’t it time to be free of all that frightens you, of the very concept of fear, the fiend?

Because that is not my father in the mirror, but the man before my eyes, who lives by three words when it comes to me, Whatever It Takes. You will see me again, Daddy. Believe.

Someday, I’ll be the book on the shelf, the blush on a lover’s cheeks. A two-legged baby, perhaps. Because there’s time. There’ll B Time, Dad

“Funny how you can live a whole life waiting and not know it.”
From ― Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“If you weep not now, when will you ever weep?
From ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1548 Days Without B III, Day 989 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 298 ~Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot~

WillLeave a comment

Will I ever write my autobiography? I wrote two books about my son. Um… I’m too busy complaining about the Day Job. I have all the time in the world to write, edit, and PUBLISH. But I have to live on; I have to survive. Because Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot.

Friday, April 25, 2025

Meditation 298 ~Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Hell! I’m surprised I was even able to read this morning. My eyes are so heavy.

Exhaustion, Addiction, or Allergies? At least I’m not crying over my “Lost Boy.” My B.

Oh no, that would make too much sense. Or no sense at all, seeing B’s been gone four long years. I need only invoke Sunday, January 31, 2021. And anything I’m going through becomes nothing. I watched my son, my Braxton, die, and… Well, the tears are trying to eke out. I need them because I have so much reading to do today. Try Happiness.

Honestly, my lady, you know that word does not exist here. However, I did consider telling you how Virgil arrived. That was Saturday, August 13, 2022. Joyful tears, Sophia? I’m sweating bullets, actually. But I thought I heard Braxton’s voice. “How To Save A Life?”

As this week draws to a close, I’m afraid all I know how to do is make better writers cash. The story of my life is nothing compared to the B-plots from the likes of Dirk Knight and Logan Jacobs. This is the last day for triple Kindle Points, so I NEED more books. SIGH

With what money? If I’m lucky, my B-Plot of a Day Job has me in once a week. I’m not. So, as for all my paid time off… The following two weeks will be hard. And the following two are wasted. So much for going to see Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. I have to stop calling M Anime that, as if she would even have me. Comparing me to Xu…

Oh, right, I’m supposed to be writing a novel about her nightmare with General Xu. Writing isn’t paying the bills. Sophia, if I finish the story, there’s… Too Much Sauce. However, analyzing the book I’m writing, called “Cries Come Women, Come Country,” isn’t helping either. It takes my mind off missing my son, my money, and any mistakes I make.

Like explaining this to M Anime. AHEM! In her nightmare/short story, I noticed the level of intimacy between her and General Xu. She was first taken in darkness, then held down, chained up, held softly, and then she clung to him. With acceptance, she climaxed.

I can worry about what she thinks instead of the main story. Braxton, Virgil, and I. Virgil Isn’t B’s Plot

1545 Days Without B III, Day 986 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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~

WillLeave a comment

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 294 ~To B At Peace~

WillLeave a comment

Peace be unto you. Unto you be peace. I miss sitting with my son and watching a movie. The Book of Clarence? Braxton’s favorite girl, and I watched that. But can I still afford streaming memberships? Such despair at being broke. “To B At Peace.”

Monday, April 21, 2025

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “Can you feel that? Ah, sh*t. Ooh, wah-ah-ah-ah!” I’ll leave the singing to you, my father. I still bark.

But not now. You used to say that my barking said more than most humans. And at least when I barked, I was helping you out. We agree that most humans make too much noise. There are exceptions to that. My favorite girl, the future stepmom I never met. Cherry.

And what about my little brother, Virgil? I wish you so many things, my father. Somehow, someway, someday, today, I want you to be at peace. I wish you peace. Peace be unto you, my father. I know I’m getting a bit preachy. A little biblical… Like father, like son. But neither of us would be found in a church. Yesterday was Easter. So, dinner…

You know me. Food always made me feel better. Until…

Um that’s not what I came to talk to you about now. My resting in peace and all. No dad.

How can I sleep when I can feel it all the way from here? The Rainbow Bridge? Elysium or whatever. That big bed in the middle of our sunny backyard with food on every side.

Your depression and the danger you wake up to when you head to that bad place. You said that’s how you got me those fried golden sticks. But now what you feel the most is DESPAIR. What’s one more human word? You would cuddle me and tell me so many.

But peace? Even if I don’t understand it, I have seen it, my father, last night as Virgil cuddled you.

And all those nights we would spend with my favorite girl watching the glowing box.

There were the days after you came from the bad place and fell asleep. And as you closed your eyes you’d watch me sitting at the corner of the bed. You’d come to no harm.

However, when it was your turn, I’d sleep on your heart as you read books. And there were all the times I would lay on my pillow at your feet, and you’d write your stories.

There were days you would breathe afterward as if the greatest task ever was done. Sometimes, you’d kick me out to do “whatever,” watching certain things. You’d be finished, clear. Always unto you be peace, Dad. To B At Peace

“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“Because your question searches for deep meaning,
I shall explain in simple words”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1541 Days Without B III, Day 982 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 291 ~Creating The B-Plot Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Well, if it’s any consolation, this horrible week will be over when I reread this. Didn’t I want more hours? It’s why I’m writing this on a Sunday and not a Friday. I’ve written of worse weeks. And even worse stories. Creating The B-Plot Virgil.

Friday, April 18, 2025

Meditation 291 ~Creating The B-Plot Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Because I won’t be giving you a book review today. Have I finished “Backyard Dungeon 15”

Considering today is Sunday, April 13, 2025. And speaking of stories, doesn’t The Last of Us Season 2 begin tonight? My son, Braxton, was so creative. When Sundays rolled around, and Daddy communed with the dead… The Walking Dead, that is. He would come up with ways to entertain himself. That is if he didn’t want to crawl beside me and be quiet for an hour or thereabouts. Hell! B was considerate enough to die in the off-season. That’s dark…

But by now, Lady Sophia, you know, that’s how I like my stories. Happy Endings… Whatever! Virgil would have something to say about that. This being his forever home. Ha!

I’m sure “The Art of Racing in the Rain” is better. I haven’t read it.

And what about my books? We’ll get to that. Because you don’t know how badly I wish I could say this week is “Unwritten.” However, regarding the Day Job, “Every Day Is Exactly the Same.” This wouldn’t be so bad if I were “just a regular everyday normal mothereffer.” But no. I’m sure this week has expanded on Humiliations Galore.

Excuses not to go in; they are coming up empty. I have lots to explain, well as the song goes:

“‘Cause I’m a loser
And sooner or later, you know I’ll be dead.”
3 Doors Down

Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?
Loser, Beck

Explanations for this. Not movies, music, or manuscripts. I don’t blame it on missing my Braxton. Or missing the spark that made me a great father… Seriously, I’m failing Virgil.

Editing my novels? It’s like a B-plot to a movie.

Mind you, Lady Sophia. A lousy movie, as sleep always comes first. Stealing dreaming time.

Bad dreams, as is the case with M Anime. Earlier, “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” What did you get when you take a lovely lady’s military nightmare and the anime series Kuroinu? “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” An African-American Writer. I wish.

Sophia, only days before, I was working on “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” Ch. 19. Honestly, I told M Anime I already had ideas for a sequel. As horrible as I am, I’m not Donald Trump. FDT! I have more than “concepts of a plan.” Ripping off Discipline: The Hentai Academy. “The Eve of a Cherry”? What happened with that book? Existence… Or I keep trying. Creating The B-Plot Virgil.

1538 Days Without B III, Day 979 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

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