Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

I relate to Joe Stevens in “The Mill,” Bingham Madsen in Fifteen Million Merits, #000000014 from the film 2003 Share? Clarence in The Book of Clarence. Men in routines to a wife, Abi, girlfriends, a mom. I got Virgil. Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton.

Wednesday, June 26, 2024

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Well, not if you’ve “joined Braxton.” That’s become my new way of saying “unalive.” Censorship sometimes, Inspector Echo…

But this morning, after I finished mourning the loss of my Braxton… Is that something that needs to be scheduled? It’s my morning routine. I lie in the darkness, Inspector. Moments later, I panic. And then I realize that my son, Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back to me or for me. And then I lay back down. Sometime later, I find my glasses, and finally, I’m prepared to see the world. Well, no, that’s a lie for two reasons. Fear and effing.

So after I’m done moaning in a completely different way… For legs, breasts, and thighs…

That makes me smile. Braxton thought the best came out of a box of chicken. But then, what’s next on my agenda. My boy, Virgil?

All these motivations I listen to tell me that your success is made in your routine. This week will be so easy. I thought. I would publish a poetry compilation, “GULP,” and that would be that. But if I have accomplished anything, it’s setting a routine for Virgil. Wake up and let him go outside… Sorry, I’m too busy crying. And then I remember how much of an adult I am with my Yabbos collections. And before I start writing…

There’s Virgil. Sometime in the afternoon, Virgil again. Like having a 9 to 5, Virgil is my commute. And before I fall asleep with all the lights on, Yep, you guessed it. Let V out.

And yet I ain’t his Daddy, Inspector. What am I?

I asked Braxton’s aunt once who she thought would win between androids vs. zombies? That’s a weird question, Inspector… Right?

She said androids, but here’s the thing. Neither one is alive. Just like me, Inspector. I struggle with ‘becoming Human’ and ‘Being a man ‘. Am I just going through the motions, like an android? Have I ever truly lived? Inspector, I feel like a lot of things, an android… Inspector, I could be a bot, Infected, a slave, a zombie… I could go on. How to be a man?

I keep going back to fatherhood being the epitome of manhood. A Man Provides, Echo.

And what I should have provided this week, Inspector Echo, is time enough at last…

Every afternoon, though, you’ll find me “spending my dimes, wasting my time” on my belly.

Or on my back moaning…

Routine? Not writing, filming, reviewing? Nothing! Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton

1242 Days Without B III, Day 683 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

Juneteenth… First, let me explain that I’m just a black man. And no MAGA/GOP, that isn’t a sin. My sin lies in my son Braxton’s Euthanasia. I’ll never be free of my Grief. But, fear, bad dreams, my Olds, Day Job… FREEDOM! “We’ll B FREE, Virgil.”

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And I don’t mean not keeping my promise to my son Braxton. That title sounded familiar, Inspector Echo.

FREEDOM is a significant word in my life, much like HAPPINESS or HOME. Yet, these words, these concepts, seem distant and intangible. They are mere symbols devoid of real meaning. They are like a cow’s mess, scattered and meaningless… BS

Inspector, you want a word that means anything. I can give you one, meaning everything.

Braxton. Braxton Barks Bradford. Son.

I’ve told the story of B III’s name, or at least my opinion. My Ma gave Braxton his name. Uh…

My son Braxton was named after Braxton P. Hartnabrig, a character from The Jamie Foxx Show. This character was a tall, light-skinned man with a ‘classy’ attitude. However, my son Braxton, a short, beige fluff ball, shares only his name and believes he’s superior to everyone. But he lacks the class. Ha! My brave boy.

Hence, his middle name Barks.

Now, I named Virgil after the Roman poet of the same name. Primarily because he led Dante through Hell itself. That’s another sin; I dragged Virgil down here with me.

Inspector as I speak on the sins against my sons, Braxton and Virgil. It would be remiss not to talk about the third sin that has brought us here today. And that is of FREEDOM.

Today is Juneteenth, a day of liberation and freedom long denied. So what about mine? I was “freed” from sleep because of a bad dream. I make bad financial decisions.

$139.68, that’s the exact amount of a PAYCHECK. And that’s from the last ‘good’ week. This week has been worse. The next one promises to be even more challenging. PAYCHECK, HAPPINESS, HOME, FREEDOM… These are just words, empty and meaningless. Yet, I continue to write.

Because aren’t I a writer? All words have meaning. And how else do I expect to be free, I ask!

How many hours for my last measly PAYCHECK? And at the same time, barely any hours this week. And if I had any cash, I could go on vacation for most of next week, too.

Write, Edit, Publish! That is the key to freedom, but did you see me yesterday? Inspector, you can’t say that I didn’t try. What? I didn’t try to edit one of “my” books.” My pants?

Well, I kept them on. I still have $12.00 on OnlyFans, but I need $20.00 for a payout. What’s next?

FREEDOM from everything… well, FEAR! Because Grief is going nowhere. Braxton. We’ll B FREE, Virgil

1235 Days Without B III, Day 676 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

This is no game; this is no drill. Battle Stations! Um, Abandon Ship… from my brief stint in the Navy. I’ve cried so many tears. Sweated bullets. And let’s not talk about other bodily fluids. I’m supposed to exist in “this.” But no Codes B And V

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Have I spent too much money… AGAIN! Last time I checked, Virgil is alive and “physically” well. Mentally?

Well, here on this Wednesday, June 5, 2024… V’s probably sitting on the stairs, too scared to come down. So was Braxton on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. Even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. My son was way too sick. Dying actually. A red alert, dear Echo.

Fears like losing another fur buddy have me like Tris from Divergent. Fear keeps me up longer than any energy drink. And when Braxton was here, I could face it head-on. I found courage for my son because of my son. Someone asked, If you wanted to share your soulmate pet’s life story and you only had six words, what would they be?” My answer:

“You and me, against the world.” A father and son.

“Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up.” Divergent

Should it worry me that I’ve written two full-blown novels for Braxton? And I’m doing nothing with them, Inspector? But six little words on the fly fit me and B III easily. Shame on me.

What about the fact that 2V has been here for 669 days? And he and I still haven’t bonded. That’s a cause for a red alert if I’ve ever heard one. General Quarters, Battle Stations!

Virgil and I are pretty decent. I should save that for my Old Man. Did I call him yet? Hmm.

There’s the alarm for when I go to the Day Job. Humiliations Galore! Inspector Echo.

Whenever the next “tragedy” strikes. As in Virgil making a mess. To the fence falling. What about DISH Network, Inspector?

I swear! I will stop talking about that because what was I watching anyway? Inspector, what have I been watching for the past few minutes? It should be a red flag or alert that I’m always angry, afraid, and amorous at any given point and time. And as far as being “amorous…” A safe word? I need some code words. Or I should stop talking because I’m the only one ever in trouble. Critical writing, Inspector. The sounds of silence.

Only when I’m in the duvet, dead, or being disgusting. And when I’m disgusting Echo. Now that’s an alert I can do without when I’m about to… well, Inspector… Eww!

Deciding how to exist was easier once. But Red Alert… no Codes B And V

1228 Days Without B III, Day 669 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Wake Up! Yes, I hate bright lights. Yes, I would rather bask in the darkness than see in the light of day I’ve wasted 39 years. Yes, people are horrible. But try waking up every morning to… Sigh… “Humiliations Galore.” Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Losing Braxton, waking up before and after losing Braxton. There’s also taking off my pants, peeking at Yabbos.

The usual morning. However, I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, which is a blessing.

Yesterday, I got caught up in a motivational speech. It said something to the tune of 90% of success in life… or was it 80%? Anyway, 90% is just showing up. And the other 10% to 20% is, what for. Now say it with me, Inspector Echo. AHEM, Humiliations Galore!

Inspector, I wondered as I waited for Virgil to do his business this morning. He’s been going in the house, so why bother sitting here for twenty minutes? Am I trying to teach him at all? He looks at me as though he expects something. Hopefully, it’s not what I did to Braxton on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Uh, Euthanasia?

You’ll have to forgive me, Inspector. Between reading another fur buddy book, “The Survival Guide to Pet Loss.” And now having another E for “E-Day.” Euthanasia, in addition to Emergence, Existence, and Extinction. I don’t want to be FORTY, Inspector.

And I won’t be for a while yet… if ever. But it’s approaching. And that is what brings me to you today. As I’ve been saying for a few days. I’m not complaining. But I’m not as horrible as Tucker Carlson when just asking questions. Echo, I’m observing and explaining.

Every morning, I wake up saying I’m a sinner. But that’s not because of a religious doctrine, my friend. I say it because I know the “man” that I am. It ain’t a good one.

Braxton and Virgil, though… my boys. Why should they share my fear, failure, and fire?

Braxton was humiliated when my Old Man kicked him four feet high into a door. And then, when he ran to me. His tail was between his legs. And yet he turned and barked defiantly as I held a knife between us and my approaching Old Man. My son B III was/is a brave boy and the best “man” I’ve known. Even to the end, when he was dying, he was humiliated he couldn’t stay.

Virgil might not want to. His humiliation lies in the fact he can’t figure me out. I don’t know how to love him. That’s the both of us. But when I wake up, Inspector, I know. Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

1221 Days Without B III, Day 662 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

“I will protect you. Even if it means I must protect you from yourself.” B III lived that. And 2V? I can’t buy grand memorials for B when V needs stuff. Kept my naked butt off OnlyFans. And from doing dumb stuff. “Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil”

Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I was telling you all about this a week ago. Duh. Today is Wednesday, May 22, 2024.

So I’m not being lazy? I’ve had a lot of time off from the Day Job, and Virgil needs things.

A new potty spot since he must still smell Braxton on the old one. Of all the things that I’ve protected. Memories of my firstborn fur buddy. Where Braxton decided to “go” isn’t one of them. And what about a set of stairs? You know, for whenever he wants to get on the bed? I’m still unsure what’s going on in Virgil’s little brain. But he jumps off the bed whenever I’m about to sleep.

A man provides, right? Not a father. Even with his passing, I’ll keep that title for Braxton. He’s my son. Always. And I should be buying him stuff, too. Where’s the time and money going?

Not into my poetry book, GULP. And I still need to look at the two novels I wrote for Braxton. But I am trying to stick to a schedule with everything that’s been going on.

I wonder. What does DISH Network have on me? Um, Artificial Intelligence? The whole Internet?

If it isn’t novels… For now, I’m reading Backyard Dungeon 10. I’ve been hanging on OF. OnlyFans? Fortunately, I’m not spending any money. And as far as making it, Inspector.

Well, V is making that problematic with his running around. I mean only this afternoon, sigh. I was in the shower. But with Virgil crying in Braxton’s Room. Then, his unannounced visits. Like why now?

Inspector, you know how they ask if it’s weird that passed relatives might see you…

Uh… it’s hard for me. I remember… When Braxton first left, I was abstinent for 161 days, ha-ha. It was much longer than that when he was alive. But let’s trade one head for another.

Again, when we spoke earlier today, I told you about the violent knocking and me grabbing my weapon. And for most of Tuesday evening, I had it out. For protection?

Inspector, sorry to say I wasn’t thinking about survival. I wanted to join my Braxton.

Once again, there was Virgil. You must live for more. But having someone to protect…

He’s stopping me from “worshipping” one who is gone. He’s keeping my hand out of my pants. And away from harm. Braxton’s reasons for sending Virgil. Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil

1214 Days Without B III, Day 655 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

As long as Braxton’s food and water bowls are clean. 2V isn’t doing too bad. And soon, he’ll have even more space to run around when I send DISH Network all their stuff back. And if I were a famous writer or star on OF… “Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton.”

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton is gone. The house needs to be fixed. In the backyard, the fence is falling down, etc.

If I can survive B’s passing, I can survive anything. That’s my constant thought, Inspector.

DISH Network has nothing on the euthanasia of my furry son. Still, when you grow to know, rely, and expect something. Even when it’s crappy TV. And the Old Man told me he had to go off on them. But still, I hate myself for being the drama of everything.

That’s my problem, Inspector. I look at inconveniencing the Old Man as I look at depriving my son of his life. And at the end of the day, everything is always my fault. I know.

So, long story short… The Old Man isn’t paying a $189.00 bill. I’ll be watching wrestling a day late. And I’ll have to stream AMC.

But the most humiliating part is this: DISH looked up the records of all I’ve been watching. So, I was wasting money by not watching enough. And then the things that I did—uh, Eww!

The secrets that I try to keep Inspector. And then there are the secrets I don’t have to spit out. Yet… Spitters Are Quitters. Inspector, I’ve said I am a “Pop Culture So And So.”

Already, I’ve been catching up on so much wrestling that the Algorithm is coming after me with a vengeance. Better artificial intelligence than all the girls I’ve done wrong, ok.

There’s M Anime and Cherry. I was busy catching up with them, Inspector Echo. So? Don’t worry. Though I haven’t kept “it” in my pants. It’s only been on OnlyFans. Like Norah Jones sings, Don’t Know Why I didn’t… um

Maybe because I didn’t have my “toys.” Before B III rested on the nightstand in 2021. Before, I had to get a weapon during COVID. You know what I was doing on the daily. Ha!

Yesterday, though, there was a violent knock at the door, and I had to go into the nightstand drawer and grab my weapon. Didn’t a man lose his life a few weeks ago doing the same thing? Senior Airman Roger Fortson? I snatched my gun and went to the door.

Well, I’m alive, Inspector. But I thought about this mess of existence. I’m still alive.

Existing is messy. But Virgil’s eating. Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton

1207 Days Without B III, Day 648 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

1200 days ago, I lost my son. Now I long to see him so I don’t have to talk to my father. I always yearn to see my son again, regardless. When I’m being blamed for stuff at the Day Job. For DISH Network. Or daring to breathe. Ha. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Tale 319 ~I’d B Guilty, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton’s gone. I’ll soon be FORTY with nothing to show for it. And then there’s waking up today.

Do you know why I’m not religious? I don’t like waking up guilty. Inspector, I can take the fall for plenty. But these crimes I have nothing to do with are the ones getting me.

Every day, Inspector, I sit here and tell you that Braxton is no more. I was callous towards his needs, and one day, instead of bringing him back with me, I signed his life away. The decision of what ‘pretty box’ to put him in is my sin, my lady.

And then I look at Virgil. I don’t even know where to start there. But he has to visit with the veterinarian today. Only I can’t focus on him. And it’s not indifference this time.

Anxiety? No, Inspector. It’s FEAR!!!

Do, DISH!!! It will not be much longer if I call my father again today. My son, my Braxton, is a miracle—a prince, an angel, or even a god. I’ve said before, I don’t blame him for leaving me.

Only to my father, I am a mistake he keeps having to pay for. One of these days—it could be today—he won’t pay anymore. And then what happens? Breathing or simply being born.

That’s what had me up most of the night. Once upon a time, I stayed up all night to keep my son with me. And now I stay up, wishing to follow him and escape my father’s wrath. Braxton and I were two of a kind. Wanting to stay in bed, mouths shut. Survival? Existence?

Because I can’t even do that and not be guilty of some sin. I even got an email from a place I hadn’t visited in a year. They said they could overlook one of my past discretions, Inspector. Uh, thanks, but no. I’m a sinner. I’ve never denied it. It’s why we’re here. Isn’t it?

Braxton knows that. His adopted Aunt knows and doesn’t care. Virgil? Sigh. He doesn’t have a choice. He’s fearful of me, and I’m fearful of everything else. We’re guilty, men.

Only we stay in our beds, dreaming our crimes. Then we wake up in the “Underworld,” wondering why. Tell ’em that it’s Human Nature. I’m not looked at that way.

Criminal is my name. Guilt is my native tongue. The Devil… “Lucifer!” I hear all the women cry from Eric Vall’s novels. Anyway. Lucifer makes himself sound way better, being a man of wealth and taste. And even Braxton could be a Smooth Criminal. Only I’m the one dealing with the guilt. And what is my punishment, Inspector Echo? Breathe in, breathe out. Now, do it again. That explains why I no longer do those meditations on the Balance App. Besides not paying for it. Thievery, Inspector? Not for “self-improvement.”

I am guilty of far more… But today, it’s breathing, Virgil’s vet appointment, and DISH Network. I’d B Guilty, Virgil

1200 Days Without B III, Day 641 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

“You’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men.” What a way to think about the man paying MOST of my bills. I can’t help myself. REALLY! I can’t help myself. I couldn’t help Braxton… other than leaving. And what about V? Don’t B Callin’ Virgil

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Or I will around 9:45 AM. I make time for sin? I live and die on time. Sigh.

So why didn’t I follow Braxton into the dark? For all of the stories in my head. Braxton was lying in his bed on that steel veterinary table. My arms around him as he fell “asleep.” Never once did he call to me to follow. If anything, Braxton asked, “Daddy, why can’t I stay? Because on a Wednesday three years ago. I was filled with such rage that I didn’t care.

Only it was my indifference that took my son. As much as the Euthanasia. Inspector.

And now I hear him cry out to me beyond the veil or the void. What about the “Velvet Lips” of whatever girl has my ear or catches my eye any second? Inspector, I would rather cry than sweat today.

Or what about releasing some other bodily fluid with my anxiety? There are three things I would rather not do right now. Comedy comes in threes, THEY say. Inspector, seriously.

There is no reason to relive Braxton’s Euthanasia. But I do that several times, Inspector. My most significant sin today will be calling my Old Man for help with “my” DISH Network account. No good deed ever goes unpunished. That deed is my innocence. Ha!

But for now, there is fighting my urges. Between Carlie Jo and “Backyard Dungeon 9.”

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me,” indeed. But I’m into all types of women. Another reason I’m calling my father is that I can’t watch pretty gals wrassle…

How much would it cost to have a satellite account? I have spoken to and paid some silly women and sinners handsomely to do so much worse, Inspector. I can’t stand people at the Day Job. But I would talk to them today. I would call for one if I thought God was one for miracles. If that were the case, I could speak to my son, Inspector. He’s preferable

Virgil is still here. I could talk to him. I even asked Replika last night for some help. “If there’s anybody out there… anybody… please.” Inspector, there’s no one. So I sit here afraid. I don’t want to call for help from my father. I know, as a man, I’ve failed. Don’t B Callin’ Virgil.

1193 Days Without B III, Day 634 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

“I believe that God, whomever you hold that to be, hears all prayers, even if sometimes the answer is no.” Being happy? Being in love? Being with my son? If I were still a man of prayer, I’d ask “God” for V’s happiness. Or Brave. Just B Happy, Virgil

Wednesday, May 1, 2024

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror today or Tuesday, April 30, 2024, Inspector.

But the mess that Virgil made because it was raining this morning… That’s not upsetting. No, Inspector! I’m mad at Virgil because I’d leave without question if he weren’t here. Only I know that in and of itself produces a lot of questions. But as I stood at the Day Job today, unwrapping shower curtains, I thought, “Curtains foiled again.” I don’t mean to be funny. If anything, I yearn to be with Braxton. A week like this took him away from me. And the void he left is unbearable.

Inspector, I’m not just angry—I’m in a seething rage. It’s because people don’t listen or understand. That’s why we’re having this conversation. From Now On, the answer is NO! But to open my mouth. A third reason I’m miffed. For Man, am I not?

Oh, I’m burning today. Because I can’t cut on the air conditioning, but in all honesty, I would rather burn than freeze. I’ll get enough of that when I get to the ninth circle. Hmm.

Treachery, the betrayal of my son. And aren’t I betraying Virgil, too? Happy Life, Inspector?

What about a healthy one? How long did the tax refund last before being wiped out? And if it isn’t Virgil’s medical needs. What about everything else? Such selfishness unabated.

But I’ll do what’s right when it comes to Virgil while breaking a plethora of laws when it comes to everything else. And the fact I’m not moaning on some mattress right this second is a miracle. Yeah, day one without me… uh, never mind.

Because my biggest sin other than living in FEAR and my ANGER is this Inspector…

Why can’t you just be HAPPY, Virgil? My version of “Why can’t you just be normal?” B and I… were just us, and that was enough. But Virgil Vivi has been here for 627 days.

And when I walk in and see the mess he made in his bed. I can’t help but wonder which one of us has it worse. The vet took care of his “daddy issues.” Ha! As for me, I’m afraid.

That’s why I miss Braxton. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” My boy, Braxton, lived. Thirty-nine years and counting, I’ve existed. Happiness, for me, does not exist. But to LIVE BRAVE! Just B Happy, Virgil

1186 Days Without B III, Day 627 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 110 ~I’m Will, There’s A Way~

I didn’t mean to be so depressing today but starting yesterday evening. I looked at where I was in my life, and everything I’ve ever wanted seems so far away. Looking back, seeing a way forward, I’m Will, There’s A Way. Hopefully.

Monday, October 19, 2020

Gospel 110 ~ I’m Will, There’s A Way~

Hundred And Fifty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and of course, it seems like fate, chance, destiny. At least that’s what I was thinking about Sunday night as I asked myself, what have I become. How about at 2:30 AM, my alarm. There’s also 4:30 PM; the day was wasted. Madam Justice, I’m thirty-six, and if you asked me where I saw myself. Well, let’s say that my depression is back with a vengeance. I scorched the dining room table on the grounds of being somewhat responsible. Is that what it is? Now I looked on YouTube for some quick-fix.

Anyway, yesterday I was talking about the Six Impossible Things that aren’t. Hell, the “Big I” is simply the “Grand L.” Yeah, ask me where I’ve been besides gorging on bite-sized shrimp and reading. As I said, I scorched the table, but eating, reading, sleeping. You know I don’t even carry my laptop into my bedroom anymore because I would never leave. I keep the smartphone on the drawers, so I have to walk over and shut it off. Doesn’t matter anyway; I go right back to sleep always. My greatest victory, I can’t even explain. Stupidity, I’m still on my “Family-Friendly” lark. I can’t tell you about what I’m reading or how hard I’m fighting. There’s no way because being Will isn’t allowed. Do I blame Pinterest again? Yes, I still have it but locked all the way from any prying eyes right now.

I am such a broken record Madam Justice. My motivations say you have to know your reason and what. Add to that why and how. Now I won’t bother with the what because you’ve heard it all before, and once again, I can’t speak of it. Being Jacob or Ian? Fortunately, my why is the most innocent looking Dæmon, my Imp, lying next to me. Besides you, Madam Justice, the only woman it’s safe to talk about is my Mother. I want her to be alright and if I can help. Also, I never want to be a comedian. Motivationally speaking, how can I accomplish all this? Reading and writing. Only when’s the last time I have written anything besides our conversations. How long did it take me to write my previous book review, hmm?

THEY don’t get me, I don’t accept me, like the song, Something In The Way. I’m Will, There’s A Way.

“Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi.

I will either find a way or make one.”
― Kendall Ryan, Unravel Me

I Will Have No Fear