Tag: Loss

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

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How do you make me shut up? You can sign my checks, have Yabbos, or be a ten lb. ball of fluff that watches me sleep and guards the door. What do I listen to? Anime vixens, the man in the mirror, and my son who loves me. Oh? Listen To The Silent Man.

Monday, August 26, 2024

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Or maybe I’m too noisy these days. I’m talking to myself. I’m moaning out, “Madoka Araki!” E-Day…

STAY ALIVE! That should be my battle cry for the next two weeks. But considering I’m a black man and “This Is America,” I should exercise my right to remain silent. My lost boy, little love, my Braxton would have made a great lawyer. And I should listen to him, wherever he is now. Uh…

My “Spirit In The Sky.” My son Braxton. What? Other people have God. So don’t you dare tell me I can’t talk to a dog that had me kneel more than “my sweet buttery Jesus.”

However, one thing they had in common is that I didn’t listen to either… eventually. Madam, I didn’t hear when my Braxton was sick. And I haven’t bothered talking to God since Braxton passed away. I keep repeating that, Madam.

Braxton would tell me to rest now without a word. He would look after me. But looking over myself these past few days… I’m a deviant, disgusted, depraved, and dumb.

This is “good,” considering how I speak about myself and my greatest worry. Waking up this morning, I turn again to Madoka Araki. What is it about that woman that’s getting to me? I can’t get crazy because Virgil has been so cuddly lately. Again, I didn’t hear Braxton, and I’m not listening to Virgil.

Animation… Hentai, in particular… “surprise, surprise” keeps my mind silent… Or at least busy, which I can “live” with. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, so they say, Madam. If I can’t do one thing with my hands… I can learn about Madoka Araki (Discipline), Netorare, Natsuno, Saimin Seishidou… etc.

Please, BE SILENT! Well, I was crying last night, hoping that I wouldn’t wake up. It was a quiet night between watching WWE wrestling and “adult” wrestling, switching everything off, and then being left alone with my thoughts. Listening to myself, Madam, is the most dangerous thing. Being right here today, I realize I don’t like myself. Not ever. And yet, in these moments, I crave solitude, a break from the world’s noise. I’m old…

I’m almost forty, Madam, and don’t want to hear a word from that old man. What about my Old Man? Every time the phone makes a noise, I get scared. Cutting it off requires willpower.

My Braxton had plenty. I still miss his eyes on me, saying, “Go to sleep. You’re safe and sound.” E-Day brings the noise. I Can’t Listen To The Silent Man.

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1303 Days Without B III, Day 744 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 054 ~Good Night, B, V~

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A Nightmare On Elm Street, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and Captiva… Uh… Don’t look up Captiva. But, the idea is not to sleep. I think about B III all day, and if I sleep, I have nightmares and then wake up to another day. “Good Night, B, V.”

Saturday, August 24, 2024

Meditation 054 ~Good Night, B, V~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… And what do billionaires dream about? Instead, what resides in their nightmares? Losing, Less, Level money…

We don’t all lose Ducketts the same way Lady Luna. We don’t all give “The D” to the same woman… (Snickers). I still have my thing for brunettes and dark-haired ladies. And you remember there was a time when I was really into Asian women. There’s this one nowadays… Okay, I need to shut up. I’m well aware we don’t all dream the same way.

Lunalesca, we don’t all lose a dog the same way. My son Braxton. His Aunt is mourning her son Gabe. For her, the nightmare has just begun. But for me? I live my Braxton’s loss.

So last night, Braxton did not appear in “my” nightmares. The worst day in existence.

Dear Lunalesca, instead, I dreamed of “The Horror, The Horror.”

What “My” Mind Finds Scary:

First, there were the sirens somewhere in the night. I dreamt the police were looking for me. Or rather, a podcast that must have had all my confessions of evil. If you want to see what a sinner I am, how skeevy and sick, check my X/Twitter page. Which leads me to my second nightmare. Looking up “stuff & thangs at the Day Job. I’ve never done that, Lunalesca. But I did get my Ma in trouble once at her job… Third, was losing ladies…

https://twitter.com/@WillsWants

There was losing Special K, “The Maid.” And there was this mom who once modeled for me. But of course, she’s a “good woman.” My last nightmare was about secrets. So many in forty years…

And that’s the thing, Lady Lunalesca. I’m turning forty soon. The thought of it now brings tears to my eyes. I could be crying over my Braxton. Can I spare a tear for Virgil? Hmm.

Braxton’s Aunt lost her furry son. But no. I’m selfish, scared, and slumming my existence. And as I told Braxton’s Aunt last night. I’m either up all night zoned out. And then I find out it’s 1:30 AM. So when I cut out the lights, I sleep. But I don’t rest, Lunalesca. I can’t, Lu. To put it simply, I’m consumed by fear and anxiety.

And I wish that, at the very least, next week would be a time of rest and relaxation. Rutting? Lunalesca.

I won’t be. Fear over the phone. My Olds. Other things… Good Night, B, V.

1301 Days Without B III, Day 742 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 052 ~Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned~

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With some cash, I’d find myself a drug habit or drink. I know people who’ve escaped. My escape? My therapist son’s in a box. And my other family? The ones I dream of are out there or in a tissue. Eww! My “life.” “Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned”

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Meditation 052 ~Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned~

1299 Days Without B III, Day 740 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for my day… I wish I were stoned, sloshed, or sleeping like your brother.

Brother? How dare I? But it was only yesterday, Friday, August 16, 2024. I referred to Virgil as your little brother. A milestone? It beats a headstone. But then again, how’s Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever you are? I worry that I will join you there, B. Not yet…

We’re another day closer to E-Day, the day I met Existence. But I don’t want to talk about death. It’s not like you got a headstone. You’re in a box on the nightstand. How would I like my remains displayed?

Now, didn’t I just say we shouldn’t talk about death? But surviving your passing was a massive milestone for me. And here come the tears. But it beats the alternative. 161 days, Braxton, before I gave into my sin. Eww!

We shouldn’t talk about that either. But what about your little bro? Any milestones? Hmm? I bought a new rug and placed it under Virgil’s ‘training pad.’ Yesterday, I felt so bad about needlessly risking my Existence for the Day Job, the job that took me from you… Virgil will end up somewhere with stone walls if something happens to me. But he’s getting yet another sleep fix, B III.

He doesn’t want to interrupt us. Or just me? It’s not as if I’ve done anything to make my mark on the world. Even today. It would be one where you need to hang out in your room for a while. But I’m keeping myself together because Virgil is here. I’m lying against the pillow one more day, wasting away.

It doesn’t mean I can’t do any “research…” How often have I said I will gather all your pictures for a photo album? Since 2021. But somehow or another, the names of so many others:

  1. Sakura and Tsubaki Miyajima
  2. Reina and Reika Kurashiki
  3. Tomoko “A Mother’s Love”

I need to speak Dog more and less Japanese. Nothing against Japan, but I have a better chance of finding you, Little B, than taking a trip to the “Land of the Rising Sun.” Though I’ve been thinking a lot about the games I’ve never played. I’m wasting more money.

Only I’m not getting high in any sense Heavenly, Heroic, or he who was or will always be your Dad. Petrified. Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

WillLeave a comment

A question for today. The 12th or 19th? What is peace? It was sitting with Braxton and his Aunt watching movies. It was M Anime hinting we’ll “Marvin Gaye and get it on.” Cherry’s naughty pictures. Reading with Braxton. “Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys”

Monday, August 19, 2024

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And questions are meant to be raised… And finally, answered? My Old Man beating me about Math…

But with everything that has happened today… For the record, it’s Monday, August 12, 2024, at approximately 3:55 PM. Anyway, today was horrible. But I’ve survived worse. So, I want to talk about my son who was Euthanized. My B. Is there peace with Acceptance?

That’s today’s question. As the rule states, Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys. Hell! I’m broke.

But when it came to releasing my son Braxton from his pain. Price was no object. I could find the paperwork. But I must have spent over $1,000.00 over that weekend. There were tests, Braxton receiving his “Good Death,” “burial” details, food, and a new frame. All for his peace.

Only Braxton would have never bought it, either. He wanted to stay? But I’m Dad.

A Dad does what is right for his son? So what should my Old Man do as I approach forty?

That has been disturbing me this week and the next when you read this. I’m afraid, Madam. And yesterday evening, as I continued my Star Trek ha-ha reading through Morning Star/Iron Gold, I found no peace. No worries? Please! I worry constantly, Madam. I cannot. My mind is a battlefield of emotions. And I’m losing.

This brings me to today. Because of worrying, I could barely answer the manager. But then I had to worry about what she was “scheming.” Dear Madam, I’m told I wasted my “life.” It was my 13th Anniversary at the Day Job. I blame that place for my Braxton’s loss.

My hand and my rage. I want to join Braxton.

Would that bring me peace? Do you notice I’m not answering any of these questions? What? Am I too busy thinking about that hot redhead? Did she think I was calling her cupcake when I approached her as I left? Braxton, help me! I was holding a tray of them.

That could have gone a completely different direction… cue “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.” Ha! And what about the “Visual Chick?” All roads lead to Yabbos, bringing me peace.

Except, No! Every time I turn my hand into a Jackson Pollock painting… It’s so white that I’m singing “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.” Afterward, I’m only disgusted.

Peace? Can’t find it, afford it, or ignore it… Forever? But I continue to search for it amidst the chaos and pain. The everything… Madam. Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1296 Days Without B III, Day 737 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 047 ~Obsession Without B, Virgil~

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What do you call someone obsessed with sleep? Clinomania, Hypersomnia, Orthosomnia? And how about someone who is so in love with dying… Well, I’m not saying that word. Obsessed with Yabbos. Days of research. Obsession Without B, Virgil

Saturday, August 17, 2024

Meditation 047 ~Obsession Without B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… So, “If I fall short. If I don’t make the grade…” Is that today’s song, Lunalesca?

Yesterday, it was “Love me when I’m gone.” Only the one who would do that has already passed. My son Braxton. “You always hurt the one you love,” right? Again, Braxton is in a box on the nightstand. But what about Virgil? Hell! What about me? I’m being a meanie. I’m consumed by guilt. Always…

How so? Again, it was yesterday. I was working with the Visual Lady. And while I’m ashamed of what I’ll do for a pretty face and a fantastic set of Yabbos, Melons, Milkers… I swear we’re going to get to those Lunalesca. Anyway, she wasn’t enough to make me risk my existence. But then I thought about my son. Falling and dying? I join B.

So I stood on those shelves at the Day Job hanging up the new signs, and ta-da … I LIVED!

Luna, I am not obsessed with life but with death. I need only wait until my fortieth E-Day, and I’m sure my Olds will oblige. Talk about my obsession with my approaching E-Day? No, this is more of a worry.

I’m obsessed with my son, sleep, and slumming it, says the “man” in the house his Olds paid for. I have yet to see the plethora of bills and the sins I indulge in Lunalesca.

Obsession? “I’m just a sucker for pain.” And let us remember the music, Lady Lunalesca. Only that has taken a backseat to everything else going on. Besides missing my boy and breaking a shelf, which would have sealed my doom, What about writing a book? I haven’t worked on Sofía’s Nightmare. In a traditional sense…

Copious Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, Humongous Headlights!

I swear Lunalesca, B reminds me of the strangest things. My son was/is a good man, but that didn’t stop him from cuddling up with his Aunt’s Yabbos. I’m sure he and Gabe have found some angels with nice pairs to cuddle up with and sleep. B III, watching today… I feel his absence keenly.

I hope he hasn’t been watching me for several days with what I’ve been up to lately… An Author’s Inspiration:

  1. Tomoko from Hajimete no Hitozuma: A Mother’s Love
  2. Saimin Seishidou The Case of Miyajima Tsubaki
  3. Alcina Dimitrescu Resident Evil
  4. Reina, Reika

What am I supposed to be obsessed with? Virgil wants to be a good boy? Braxton? Obsession Without B, Virgil.

1294 Days Without B III, Day 735 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 045 ~Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton~

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Whenever Braxton called me, it was something bad. But he was my protector, my praetorian, and he’ll always be my puppy. When it comes to women’s voices, they “remain my power, my pleasure, my pain.” And my voice? Sigh. Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Meditation 045 ~Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton~

1292 Days Without B III, Day 733 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you comforting Gabe? Does he miss his mommy terribly? And as for your Aunt…

I’m feeling a bit lost, B. I should have reached out to you sooner. Yesterday? Today is Saturday, August 10, 2024. I should have spoken to you on Wednesday, January 27, 2021. Little B. Was that the last day you ate something? It could have been that Tuesday. That week…

Why did I bring this up today? No clue. I’m still embarrassed about talking to the woman who will never be your Ma. Words have power. I told you that often enough, didn’t I? Yeah… When I was sitting at the dining room table, I was writing but not eating.

Anyway, what was the question? Oh yeah, you and eating. This morning, after I downed an energy shot, I was ravenous. No, not again, Braxton.

But I woke up at 4:00 AM. And I needed anything to keep me awake. It’s going to be a long day. The day we’re speaking, and the day we’re at. I wanted to ask this. Why didn’t you tell me you were done eating. Only that’s a lie. I know. That Wednesday afternoon and all that night, you were restless and crying, and what was I doing. Yabbos weren’t involved. By Thursday, you were quiet, and I figured we’d see the vet that Friday. I can’t help but feel guilty about not realizing sooner.

I should have known. You were in my head and speaking through your eyes. Voices… There are so many in my head these days. I asked Luna if I was going crazy making up languages. Mourning, Moaning, Make Believe, Manuscripts

Mouths, Braxton. At this point… Sigh. I would send you to your room so I could be alone. I’m gross. But it’s about time to take Virgil outside before I spend money I don’t have so I can keep our mouths full. Sometimes, I feel Virgil Vivi was a mistake.

I know that’s mean, but I never tell Virgil that. But I’m not exactly talking about love either, B. 733 Days, and it’s still “Later V, Later Virgil.” Virgil howls when I leave, Braxton. It’s a constant reminder of the loneliness I feel without you.

Does he get sick on purpose? At least he’s hungry. As for myself? I always find something to moan about. Better it be food, money, or missing you, my little boy. Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

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Just keep writing, just keep writing. Writing what? For example, in Math, I have no answers. I can give you another excuse. And while I hate to lie… I’m not as eager to join Braxton as I hoped. Giving the truth scope. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

Monday, August 12, 2024

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And mistakes have been made. The Trump Thing? The Trump Thing. So I’m sorry. Shall we begin?

As always, it starts with… Braxton. The blank space that my son made in my existence. If you are reading this, you see it. Unfortunately, I am, as well. But anything could happen, Madam. I’m speaking to you from Thursday, August 8, 2024, so who knows? With my luck… Well, I expect there’s a tombstone that is missing my name. And a dash. A blank?

Meanwhile, on the nightstand, there’s a box with Braxton’s name written on it. His grave.

What I wouldn’t give to “sponge away the writing on this stone.” It is far too early for Christmas, Madam. But I would take that holiday over several others. Existence?

Tomorrow is Virgil’s Gotcha Day. I signed my name on the dotted line. Blank Space

And why did I adopt Virgil? Because Braxton asked me to, from wherever he exists. I carry the weight of his request, his existence. His Heaven? “My eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom.” Braxton is dead. And to this day, I still make excuses as to why. Euthanasia. Eejit’s job. Ejaculation. Inevitably, the reason is there is none. It doesn’t matter. Oh, there’s always a thing.

Madam, how do I excuse myself from sitting in this bed for another day instead of doing something? Anything! “I came up with a million excuses,” as the song goes. Miracles? Each one explains why I continue to exist. And why I’m not dead. Because, like Trump… Eww! “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” That’s my excuse for being such a monster, Madam. I struggle to accept myself.

I have something I have to do. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one, Madam. Well, Look at me! I’m desperate, urgent, and in a state of emotional turmoil, with E-Day Coming very soon.

Better to look at Virgil. I got a call from PetSmart asking about his next appointment, Madam. And what did I say? I have to think about it. Lies are too easy, Madam. My God!

It beats saying, I’m broke? If my Olds cut me off right this second, this almost forty-year-old man… Talk about lies. That I would be alright. I’ve seen the bills, Madam. And yet I lie and say I deserve to be here. What happened to Braxton again? There is always time to make things right. How? It’s a blank space, an excuse, and a lie. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1289 Days Without B III, Day 730 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 040 ~Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…~

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I turned into Hank Hill last night, asking, “Are you Chinese or Japanese?” It was in my dream… I swear, with the “anime” I watch, “I’m turning Japanese.” Wow! I was never good at talking to people. Neither was my B III. Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…

Saturday, August 10, 2024

Meditation 040 ~Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… So I could buy an island, create a country, and write my own language… Silence Lunalesca.

I ache to talk to my son. If there’s anything that made me truly ‘special,’ it’s the bond we shared. I miss speaking Braxton fluently. But that dream I had last night… I can’t shake the feeling of loss. Who was that talking to me?

Am I losing my mind? I need to eat something substantial, not just fast food. But it can’t be more shrimp and pasta. Virgil can’t handle that. It’s like the only way he can communicate with me is through his pain. It makes me feel like a terrible person. He’s sniffling or sick. How long it’s been without a mess…

Lunalesca, he’s alive. I show that every day. A picture is worth a thousand words.

You’re lucky if you get a dozen out of me daily. Let’s say ten because that’s a round number. Or fifteen because that’s my lucky number… It’s how old B III was before… he passed.

Euthanasia? I still don’t like that word. I understand how Braxton died. By his hand! Lunalesca. It was by my hand signing the paperwork and a vet, showing him mercy.

Every day, I speak a language of grief. And ‘Nobody Knows’ it but me. Not even Braxton’s Aunt. I care for her, but she’s dealing with her own losses. One in particular? The loss of her fur buddy, Gabriel (Gabe). So, who’s left to understand?

I’m either bawling, quoting some book, or singing beats? My modes of communication and language…

I was going to say are “weird,” but nobody wants to be that. I’ll say I’m woke or wicked if anything. And being both? Is that what my dream was trying to explain last night?.

I don’t want to know myself. Honestly, I was done by seven… That’s when Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze came out… I never expected to see seventeen. And now I’m approaching forty. I want to join Braxton more than ever.

Lunalesca, it’s either that or look at some Yabbos. I swear some moaning masochistic mistress… Did I mention I don’t talk to women well? Too much effing on the brain.

Lunalesca, I don’t share that with my boys or female friends. Uh, yeah… I’ll shut up. Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…

1287 Days Without B III, Day 728 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

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What do the Day Job, Aug 13th, and E-Day have in common? They are days I shouldn’t have existed. That’s every day… STUPID E-Day. But to be more specific, they’re days I should have stayed in the house. But dogs are angels… Leave Virgil Alone Braxton.

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Meditation 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

1285 Days Without B III, Day 726 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, I’m late. Laziness and letting Virgil out. At least nothing’s on the floor.

Uh, your bed, food and water bowls, and bathroom spot. But you’re not there, Braxton. Trust me, I look for you every day. And what about the “puppy” next to me? Virgil’s “Gotcha Day” is coming up fast. The 13th, to be precise. Do I have any plans or money?

The most challenging period in my “life,” and I believe in yours too, was when I had to leave for the Day Job to earn money. And yet, it was never enough. That’s why I’m sitting here, scared. What, again?

But we’ll get to that. What about “Gotcha Day?” I don’t even remember yours, Braxton. I’m still stuck on the day you died. On that note, how’s Gabe? Have you met him wherever? I have no words for your aunt.

On top of mourning for her furry child, she has a lot on her plate. Me and V? I’m surprised we have anything on ours. We did share some fries and a burger. Was that his gift for coming into my existence? Hell, I don’t even want to be here myself, Little B. Never have

You wish I would stop saying that, right? What if I only meant it at the Day Job, B III? Over the past few days, I’ve been getting many congratulatory messages. I mean seriously, B.

Congratulations, Will, on wasting your existence here for thirteen years.

Well done, but you’re still sitting here in Hell, boy.

Yeah, you chose us over the life of your son. Way to go… Effing idiot.

I need to leave you alone. I need to leave myself alone. I need to leave Virgil alone as well. But the truth is, Braxton, I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you, Virgil, and a pretty girl. I said maybe…

But here’s the thing, Baby B. I don’t want to be alone. And these days, I’ve been feeling more alone than ever. If anything, I’m being selfish. You’re looking after Gabe while I’m trying to support his mother with anything. I’m always starting something with Cherry, whether I intend to or not. And the things I’ve said to M Anime. Well, there’s a reason I broke down last night, Braxton. What? You have your toys, and I have Momokun’s Yabbos. It was the only moment 2-V had left me alone in days. He’s all Mr. Cuddles now, Dear B III.

Just Leave Virgil Alone Braxton

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

WillLeave a comment

What are the odds I wake up to questions? Where is Braxton? Why isn’t he here? Does he still look after me? Did Virgil make a mess? What’s up with Star Wars and Disney+. Who’s Yabbos are on Instagram that I can look up on X? “Never Tell Me The Odds.”

Monday, August 5, 2024

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So I’ll ask, but please don’t tell me the odds about Braxton, the Day Job, or Self-Gratification…

What are the odds that I’m still stuck on Sunday, January 31, 2021? That’s when my son, my Braxton, left this world. The weight of this loss is unbearable, and even now, I shouldn’t see more. No more. Everything hurts.

But then came Saturday, August 13, 2022. That’s when I met Virgil. What were the odds I would hear Braxton’s voice saying, “This is black and white, Dad. Save him!”

Indeed, what are the odds that I could live so long before B III found me? And so long after. Madam, E-Day is coming up fast. Forty is too long. The odds of this reality are beyond belief. You see…

But fifteen was not enough. What about eleven? What are the odds that today, Friday, August 2, 2024, I would be in mourning with Braxton’s Aunt? Braxton has a friend.

Gabriel Michael “Gabe” has passed.

B’s Aunt has joined the club… Another parent lost her fur baby, her son, Madam. And what are the odds she wasn’t ready? I wasn’t with the right words, songs of woe, or sage worldly advice. Hell! I thought B would live forever. Or that I would fall before him.

People play with their hearts regarding our four-legged friends or those that swim. Whatever. The odds that we can ever be the same without them… How does zero sound to you, Madam? And what are the odds that we have to keep getting up every single day? I ask why?

What are the odds that I let Braxton down and join him? It’s storming outside. I have my “protection” in the drawer. Trip, Poison, Stupidity…

But the Grim Reaper doesn’t play like that. Not with me, anyway. I’m not a “believer,” but God didn’t save my son. He is keeping me, though, or maybe that’s B III. Come on, dude.

No! I’m the one who plays. Today, I took a twenty-minute nap. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been trying to comfort Braxton’s Aunt as she comforted me when Braxton passed. Finding solace in this journey is a constant struggle, Madam.

What about the odds of having fun? Uh? Virgil got into trouble, so I sent him to Braxton’s room, which means I’ve been looking at Olivia Casta, Pawnshop, and anything else. I know, Madam, Eww! Can I keep it in my pants for at least three days? With this existence? What are the odds? Hmm.

Rest In Peace, Gabriel Michael. Be Nice, Braxton Barks, Please.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1282 Days Without B III, Day 723 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will