Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Feels like the first time? It was love at first sight. Or should I go all “Like A Virgin?” To be honest, I’m more for die another day… It would be a first if I was ever successful with … anything. I raised a good son once. “They’ll B Firsts Virgil.”

Tuesday, January 2, 2024

Tale 185 ~They’ll B Firsts Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But when was the first time I felt it that it fell from my lips?

When was the first time I pulled an Akon? What I mean is (thank you, Miss Critic) is, when did the song I Wanna “F” you turn into, I Wanna Love You? I can walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. Ha-Ha! “This Is Us,” this is “Life Itself.” But there is B III.

Or not… Am I not falling into the doom and gloom on Day 2 of the new year? I’m trying.

But I’m still counting Day 1066. I can’t tell you about Day 1. The day I met my firstborn in 2005, sometime in April. Are you sick of my pop culture references? Ask the critic. Only today, or rather yesterday. I didn’t know how to feel. I still don’t know.

On Monday, all I felt was tired. A bit like now as I laid off the energy shot. There’s still time. There’s still first. But it’s incredible how you can remember some so vividly. The others… I can’t tell you about my first time making love… What was it I said about Akon. “My Love.” I was hot, horny, and in a hurry. It was more get your freak on, if anything. I know some things got better. Not the grief of losing Braxton. But being with a girl… um, you? What about the first time I fell in love? The first time I thought such a thing. Oh My Love. How about crushes? Tram-Anh Tran, AKA Tina Nguyen from Ghostwriter. Between her and Toonami, it was all about Asian culture. Then, either Elizabeth Hurley, Lynda Carter, or Carrie Fisher, it was all brunettes and/or dark hair. Mostly… But like Captain America probably told Peggy Carter, “I can do this all day” or night. Whatever

Uh, I didn’t write down what I felt after losing my son that first day. But I know the truth.

Grief, Sadness, as the song goes, Feeling super, super, super suicidal. But I stayed here—fate, destiny, who knows, my love. But I stayed because I would feel something else. Love! “I wanna be livin’ for the love of you.” I won’t lose that. It won’t be a first. Never.

But every day. With my first breath, I ask why, worry, and wonder. Our love first. They’ll B Firsts Virgil

1066 Days Without B III, Day 507 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Can I not be negative? If just for one day. With that rule, the list would be… a masterpiece. And how was today? Happy New Year. I was at the Day Job, and that took no love or skill. But being a writer or a Dad? Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

Monday, January 1, 2024

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But not this one. I don’t think… Anyway, Happy New Year! Though it’s still New Year’s Eve.

Time-Travel? Madam, you know how they ask if you had one superpower, what would you choose? Comedy comes and threes. Necromancy, Time-Travel, X-Ray Vision. Invisibility if I had a fourth. Madam, you know why I would want to become a necromancer. Yes, it is a new year, or it will be in about twelve hours. And yes, I’m trying to… (grumbles), “Put On A Happy Face.” But everything comes back to my son Braxton. Cheers to a chance to tell his story and keeeping Virgil Vivi Bradford breathing. Madam, this brings up the subject of time travel. How could I have done better with Braxton? Or what about V’s future? With writing, I can see it if I keep my eyes in my head. Uhh…

Again, X-Ray Vision and Invisibility. My dear Madam. At times, technology indeed goes too far. Madam, have I committed any crimes in the new year? Let’s say speeding… Day Job. Which means I should focus on a real superpower I have. Writing? So I ask myself the question. Do I have the love and skill for it? It’s one of the few resolutions I’ve kept. Madam, it doesn’t mean I have that love and skill. And a masterpiece? Another resolution. But how do I accomplish this? My second superpower would be this Madam… choice. Yesterday, well, today, I talked about making DOA my first song of the year. Only there’s Weapon Of Choice by Fatboy Slim. Okay, so if writing is “my” choice, Madam. Um…

Masterpiece. I should keep repeating that to myself. So, to create something, if anything, in memory of my son. Now, last year, I would say, um, money, mammaries, and manhood. Even now, I’m having trouble stopping my hands… No! Not because of that, dear Madam. I mean with writing. Yes, tomorrow will be hard… Stop It! And I have to stay up until midnight anyway, as it’s still the 31st. Does that mean I have a love for the craft? Madam, with some love, is there any left for me? I want to do less on Monday, today, or whatever—the Day Job. And I wouldn’t be working it if I followed the rules. Hmm? Happy New Year, Day One. Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

1065 Days Without B III, Day 506 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

This existence is filmed in front of a live studio audience. Though I’m not a Nikki Haley, I should be canceled. But somebody has to tell B III’s story. And Virgil’s not pretending to be him. And who the Hell am I supposed to be? V’s Story, B Actors.

Friday, December 29, 2023

Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Will I be playing the part of a writer? I can pretend to be a man…

I don’t know what I am now in the story, this existence, and/or the journey as I tell everyone. As if I’m still in school. Lady Sophia, I’m here. Present! I’m still breathing. And I’m trying not to burst into Sia’s “Alive.” Otherwise, how will I hear the workers in the house? It’s not mine, of course, but The Olds. Thirty-nine-years-old, playing the part. Sophia, I wish someone would give me a damn script so I could know what comes next for Virgil and me. And what about Braxton? Would I forget my little B III? No, not ever. Talk about how to play the part. Except he wasn’t. No, not at all. It gets me thinking about that Will Smith movie, Lady Sophia. Sigh…

“Collateral Beauty.” No, I won’t give a review of it today. But two things, for the record. I didn’t like it, but you will never hear me speak ill of Will. Seriously, Lady Sophia. Um, “Big Willie Style?” I was still in school. And talk about musical longevity. Pop Culture. This reminds me that I won’t finish the Kindle Challenge by the end of the year. You know, with my Christmas Erotica tradition. For some reason, I want to do a REAL review for “His Christmas Harem: The Complete Series” by Manus Dare. And I owe you one for “Wanna Scrooge” by L. Nicole. Ah! To pretend my voice on anything matters. Uh, B, V? They didn’t pretend to love me. As for myself. Critic…

“Wanna Scrooge” Rather Than Scrooged

The answer is yes. However, this was quick, even for a novella. But I can’t complain about that. What I will complain about is the whole… SPOILER ALERT: the would be farmhand is a rich man, “Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum.” Anyway, Drew and Holly were excellent. And it’s been a while since seeing something with a gigolo angle. Drew’s isn’t. It’s not my first dive into A Flirty Dirty Christmas series. But it’s a welcome addition. If you’re into cowboys and wealthy men and want to F the Law at Christmas time. Try this book.

I wish I could behave more positively in my existence. Fake it till you make it, right? The End? There’s V. V’s Story, B Actors

1062 Days Without B III, Day 503 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Every day, I get asked, by a computer, mind you, what my mood is like. I’m always worried about something. Being thirty-nine… something always hurts. And since comedy comes in threes. I don’t know. It’s the day after Christmas. So, To B Moody Virgil.

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

Tale 178 ~To B Moody Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If you didn’t believe me, you would have left already. Or is it the fans?

I’m sure I’ve sang to you before, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Can you even hear me over all of the fans? What about my boy? Every hair, tear, and speck of dust over what, 1059 Days? It’s all gone “Bye Bye Love,” life, and even a specific type of lunacy. B. But that’s not true at all. Even with this being the day after Christmas. Presents? December 25 was something to remember? Well, seeing as how I’m time-traveling here, my love. I can still call you that, right? I have your love, our family. Lives that do concern me. And I’m still writing, wailing, and waiting for my son. But I don’t blame Santa Claus.
This is all my doing, love.

What? Being in a mood? And I won’t treat you like the computer and say, Worried, Pained. And the third thing is always a toss-up. I need more than Discombobulated. Unfortunately, the only word I can think of that is better itself starts with a D. I would never include you or the children. Am I including V in that? Right now, no. So AHEM, “I am The Walking Dead.” And like any zombie, I am up and about without purpose other than to make the living miserable. My friends, enemies, everyone else… And this Christmas, I give you another; I’m sorry, and you give me forgiveness. Sucks! Now that is a mood. Just like tired, scared, horny, sad, lonely, stupid, mad, effed, insane, dead…

And the only gift in a box I wanted, I gave myself. And it doesn’t even have my name, love. Braxton. Do I want to make myself out to be Pandora? I’ve been looking at Braxton’s “grave” more and more because of what rests under the drawer beneath it. Hope? Peace? Christmas is the time for that, playing the STUPIDEST Stevie Wonder tunnage “Someday At Christmas.” But lover, this is the day after, meaning it’s time to return to normal. Tuesday, yeah, right! I can still hear the fans blowing. And even with them, I can hear how I’m letting down my family. “Give love on Christmas day. No greater gift is there than love.” To be in the mood, but… To B Moody Virgil.

1059 Days Without B III, Day 500 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

There are a lot of stories, but I don’t want to read any of mine. Hell! My Christmas story. Santa’s not a sorcerer… a necromancer? He’s still alive. But do I want a twist in “my” story like a Netflix or Hulu show? Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… “This is the story of how I died.” No, this isn’t the movie Tangled, but really….

Braxton, do you need a roommate? “Only God Knows Why,” I was asking that, Sophia. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been talking about it for the past week… I don’t even remember how long it’s been. 1055 Days? Of course, those are days without my son. I should still follow him. Why? The floor downstairs is a death trap. The flood, fellas, and my “father.” (Screams)! My boy’s still gone. That’s never going to change, Sophia. Does Santa know Necromancy? And let’s not forget all the “Humiliations Galore.” Um, the Day Job, PetSmart, the house.

Have I ever told you this isn’t my house? Not my HOME! But for my little boy, my B III.

There’s no lights, no Christmas tree, or holiday spirit? Virgil?

I’m sure he’s barking at something. But it couldn’t be to stop Santa from breaking into the house. Does he want to go Christmas shopping with Braxton and me? Simoleons? Don’t I still pay for streaming services and salacious books set during the holidays, dear S? I don’t have money or much time, and every day is spent trying to shuffle off the mortal coil. But I woke up. So, at least for one more day, I won’t give my Olds what they want most… Braxton sits in a box under a lamp. Me in a box beneath their tree. Sophia, I expect far too much of Santa. Hell! Son numero dos? And a sinner like me because there’s no book review today. Sorry Manus

His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare, to be specific. I’ve been getting into movies and TV shows being recapped on YouTube. Are they sent from Braxton to keep me here?

Anyway, I saw “The Mill” on Hulu a day or so ago. If that ain’t the story of this existence. Except for having a pregnant wife, I have two dogs. And with those dudes, the Day Job, and my Dad, even now I want to scream out Sophia, I QUIT!

But then what about black guys and cute brunettes… or girls with dark hair? “15,000,000 Merits” got my attention. No, it ain’t porn… Wraith Babes…

The Platform? I still have to watch it all, though.

Stay alive watching, reading… Not ruining Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

1055 Days Without B III, Day 496 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

When out of audiobooks, I should really make a playlist for the road. I did have a “happy…” um, a feel-good playlist. And how do I feel now, listening to the same stories, reading Christmas Lit? All V ever hears is Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I sing you a song? I’m sure Virgil Vivi is singing loud and proud.

Or pathetic? At this rate, I might have to claim him as a child. Not my child! Not my son! That title will always be B III. But who knows since it’s Sunday, December 10, 2023. Anyway, what song is Virgil singing, you ask? “When Will My Life Begin?” Talk about turning the page. Braxton’s still on that pedestal I placed him on by way of the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or wherever. Braxton must be as sick of me in death as he was in life. And while I can give every day we spent together some significance… the holidays talk about a war on Christmas. Hell! I have a war on Thursday, December 14, 2023, which it is now. And on tomorrow… today… whatever!

I swear! The last books I read on time travel were from the Theta Timeline series by Chris Dietzel. That’s what I’ve been thinking about today. Not the series but TIME. I don’t mean the magazine either. Or should I get all political today? U.S.A.’s in trouble…

There’s also por… I mean, men’s entertainment magazines? And as I told B III today. There was the Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 audiobook I should buy. That takes money, ha-ha. I also finished On the Boss’s Naughty List on Thursday. So, a book review is incoming, too. Only what about “my” stories? The things that come up while sitting in a parking lot. Looking back at the past, dare I say there’s more than Braxton? He saved me. Is there anything else? Review?

Boss’s Naughty List Is Nice

I should say more than nice, considering I gave another Ella Goode title, “Christmas Stalking,” four stars. But this one got five, and that’s saying a lot. I was never one for “billionaire” stories… just my preference. But this story was dirty, kinky, and (drools). Again, you never see the villain get theirs. Is that a spoiler? But who reads these holiday bedroom romps for that? And who said anything about a bedroom? It’s Con and Willow in the office. A wonderful Christmas time indeed. And a wicked Christmas read. A naughty bit of prose.

That’s something I couldn’t share with my son. But it’s as positive as I get these days, Sophia. A page-turner? Hmm? Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton

1048 Days Without B III, Day 489 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will