Tag: Manhood

Tale 317 ~The Survivors Will Write History~

WillLeave a comment

A particular history teacher would quote: history is written by the victors. Napoleon flipped it, as I see White Supremacists do daily. If anything, I only try to survive my own. But writing it gets harder every day. The Survivors Will Write History.

Monday, May 13, 2024

Tale 317 ~The Survivors Will Write History~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Only because I prefer to be a victor. But for now, the rule stands: I’m a survivor.

What? Well? Why? Oh! And my name is Will. As I begin most of my days I remember this, Madam. I remember him. My firstborn son, my Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back. Did I Outwit, Outplay, Outlast him. No, I’m unlucky and unfortunate. I am not unalived as the youth say these days. “Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.” I wish I felt that strong. Or that I was that smart. But still, I survive.

And I come to you on Sunday, May 5, 2024. If I were one for prayer… Besides for B’s life. I would pray I don’t have to see this again. But for as STUPID as I am together, we cry…

I’m a survivor! I swear.

I spoke to you earlier today and asked the question… Why. And I’m not for gratitude, I’m sorry to say. And you could have it all. My empire of dirt. If I’d see Braxton again. Madam, I also want Virgil (2V) to be Safe and Sound… I swear I need to turn off the music.

Anyway, what have I survived? I already wrote the Six Impossible Things list today. But…

The worst thing that could happen. And that, again, was losing my son. Braxton passed. Behind that is the thirty-nine years I’ve been alive, each day becoming the worst. There’s the Day Job. I don’t wanna go to work. I don’t wanna work tomorrow. Gratitude, right, Dear Madam. To provide…

To survive. So, number four would be my Old Man. Don’t I sound ungrateful, Madam? Five would be The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And add to that The Cherry Collision. One of these days, I’ll tell you what that all is about. Such Humiliations Galore.

But isn’t that me breaking the rule? Since I won’t tell you how I survived. Or I could be like… THEM. And make my losses triumphs. I could “whitewash” history. But I’m not a liar. And I’m nowhere near as bad as Kristi Noem. Where’s B III again? How’s Virgil?

That leads me to number six. I write to you, the girls, B III, and the man in the mirror. It’s hard, but I survive. The Survivors Will Write History.

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

1198 Days Without B III, Day 639 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 313 ~Virgil, Spirits B Damned~

WillLeave a comment

“I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” The only thing I ever “willing” bowed to was a little brat on four legs covered in fur. And two well-formed lumps of fat gyrating in my general direction. To have such faiths. “Virgil, Spirits B Damned.”

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Tale 313 ~Virgil, Spirits B Damned~

1194 Days Without B III, Day 635 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day has only just begun. So… I want to go back to bed, B.

As if I ever left. I did take Virgil out early this morning. Are we growing any closer? Braxton, I can tell you that I don’t believe in reincarnation—or rather, yours. Virgil’s not you.

But if I were to go into all the bad things that I believe in… Well, like my love for you, I’d be here always and forever. The Power of Love? Is that the song we are starting with today? Assuming you see all I do from wherever you are, Braxton. (Adjust my pants) Ha!

I was thinking of a more royal aesthetic, my lost prince. That’s what I believe. No! I know you are, along with being a guide, ghost, and godsend. You’re gone from me, Braxton. That’s it.

But you are good. Despite everything, you are good. And that’s what you’ve been telling me for a while now. I need to believe in the good things. And how best to tell me, Braxton?

A Succubus? Comedy comes in threes, THEY say. I’ve read Eric Vall, A.J. Markam, and now Logan Jacobs. His book Backyard Dungeon 9 inspired me today, Braxton. Also, a little bit of Silent Hill. Dark Alessa… The things your Daddy believes, Braxton. To describe it…

Darkness, Madness! But I did say that I believe in love. And what’s left of you is in a box. But on “my” good days. The ones where I get out of bed and work at the table, like today.
When I See You Again…

I have faith that I will, but that never lasts. What time did I really wake up again this morning?

I Have Faith of the Heart that I will have all that I desire in this existence. One day, I may even start calling it a life. My life? If I wasn’t dead before, I died on a rainy afternoon at the vet’s as you were “put to sleep.” I died when I learned Acceptance was not for me, B.

But to live again? You’re telling God or a goddess… Higher powers must be women… (Snickers). You’ll tell them, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Am I right? Because I believe in monsters, in you my son, myself, even Virgil. Virgil, Spirits B Damned

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 312 ~Don’t B Callin’ Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“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 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

WillLeave a comment

I wish I had any of these things. There’s a reason I’m drawn to Hulu’s “The Mill” and Tubi’s “Share?” The Book of Clarence and Fifteen Million Merits, etc. These Black men lose all to gain or lose again. I’m a man… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts

Monday, May 6, 2024

Tale 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So, if you’ll allow me, I’ll share a confession with you today. Mentally, Spiritually, and Physically Unwell.

“I’m not crazy; I’m just a little Unwell.” That’s the Understatement of the century right there, Madam. That’s not my confession. I have my son on my mind. Today is Sunday, May 5, 2024. And tomorrow, when you see this. As unbearable as B’s passing has been, I wish that were all there was, and then again… There’s a reason I said, heart and soul. Uh, Brains? How about flesh?

I’m not the Scarecrow. “Just stop it! Everybody knows (I’m a bleeping monster)!” A zombie. I’m looking for a brain. I lost my guts a long time ago. The only red I see is on my hands, Madam. And who does it belong to? Hmm? Say his name! Braxton. And now Virgil is here, too. Virgil’s joy, love, and happiness?

Doesn’t the Bible say something about this? Specifically, Mathew 10:28. Life and soul. I keep V alive, as my father does for me. But as far as the spirit of Life goes, both Virgil and I go without it. We wake up asking why. Breaths are taken, and hearts are beating. But my Little Braxton.

He was my heart that I left in a vet’s office on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Or it got mixed in with his ashes. Picking up another one isn’t as easy as walking into Petsmart.

So again, Madam, what am I left with? Heart and Soul, Blood and Guts. I’m not a fan of The Wizard of Oz, and this place is far from Wonderland. Dorothy, Alice, Holli Wood, Jessica.

Are you confused about where my mind has gone? So am I, but allow me to explain for the critic and anyone else… (Hears Crickets Chirping.) Dear Madam, I’d rather hear Cricket barking, Kristi Noem.

Anyway, here is a quick rundown, Madam:
The Wizard of Oz ― Dorothy
Alice In Wonderland ― Alice
Cool World ― Holli Wood
Who Framed Roger Rabbit ― Jessica Rabbit

Okay, Madam. I’m trying to say this: I can no longer answer the question or obey the Heart, Soul, Blood, and Guts rule because I’m hollow—an open book without any lines—make-believe, a machine, a monster, a mutation. And my confession? My Apologies, Madam.

I have no need, time, or will to say anything. Or do I prefer emptiness within? Because when I try filling or feeling it, Madam… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts.

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

1191 Days Without B III, Day 632 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 306 ~For A B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

A “Cost Of Living” increase, a “Milestone.” How long have I had my Day Job again? I was Braxton’s Dad for 15 years. And that was more rewarding. What grade would he give me? My grades in school reflect what I am doing now. “For A B, Virgil”

Thursday, May 2, 2024

Tale 306 ~For A B, Virgil~

1187 Days Without B III, Day 628 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Today, I’m time-traveling. I’m speaking to you on Wednesday, May 1, 2024. Tomorrow will be…

That very idea, Braxton, tomorrow will be. People close their eyes in prayer to “God.” Braxton, I tell you all the time. I don’t talk to “God.”. If he, she, or it wanted my “love…” saving you. Talk about how, upon this rock, I shall build “my” church. A headstone?

I never bought you one. But I never bought you a lot of things. And now I have Virgil Vivi here. I’m not doing any better with him. I can’t even save him from the heat. But I did give him a fan. The greatest fan of his life, I am not. But I’m trying, Braxton. Turn on the air?

Yeah, and break something else. I’d rather burn. So, an F for fatherhood or failure.

That’s how I’ve felt this week, but this is a standard work week for everyone else. But to me… I took you to the vet on a Friday. Saturday, I prayed like never before. On a Sunday, I watched them take you from me. No! I gave you up when you would have kept fighting. Oh, look at me now crying! Didn’t I say it was hot? So what I need is water, amongst other things. And little Virgil? I don’t know what he needs. Indeed, a Grade A father.

But that requires money. And to think, I always looked down on my Old Man as that is all I need from him. Dollar, dollar bill, y’all. From a B to an F, my son.

Because at no time in this existence have I been “living” an A-plus life. Before you, Braxton, you don’t know how much I strived for a D in everything I did, but my EFFORTS always fell short. Just a passing grade. For MY mere survival.

And then there was B for breathing, building, becoming, my boy, my B. Uh, books?

Braxton, I’m deeply ashamed to admit that nothing makes me any smarter. I find solace in the works of Eric Vall, Michael Dalton, and Logan Jacobs. But I neglect the books on grief and mourning that could help me… “HEAL” If I’m not going to spend money on Virgil, I could invest in books that teach me something. That’ll help me grow. I need to be better for myself and Virgil Vivi. I need to learn, to understand, to evolve.

But I failed at being a student. And as your Daddy. Or someone that Virgil Vivi can count on? The weight of these decisions is crushing. Fatherhood equals Manhood. Decide? BE! For A B, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 305 ~Just B Happy, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“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

Tale 303 ~Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers~

WillLeave a comment

Trying to find love… I’d have finished “my” poetry books. A few of the dirty ones. I’d have made money. And I would have saved B. But I gave my heart more like I owe my soul to the company store. And women? Ha! “Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers.”

Monday, April 29, 2024

Tale 303 ~Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken or believed in, at the very least, belted out in all manner of things. I love you.

When was the last time I said those three little words? Have I told Braxton when I speak to him on Thursdays? Time and distance have been messed up. Welcome to Existence… Enjoy your stay…

Love, the essence of life, is a question that haunts me. Can one truly live without it? The answer is no, yet here I am, still breathing. And what about positivity? That’s a question I should be able to answer, but not today. Time Travel, it’s Monday, April 22, 2024.

So, a whole week. That’s an immense expanse, isn’t it? Further or Farther? Whatever, Sigh.

But where am I heading, really? It’s not towards anyone who cherishes me. Gazing at my reflection in the mirror feels like a journey to the hangman’s noose. But Madam…

Aren’t I in love with dying? Love Is A Long Road. And isn’t that the point of today’s rule, Madam? THEY say that if you’re going through Hell… keep going. But I’m a zombie at this point. Braxton’s a ghost. And Virgil is a werewolf. As in Where Wolf? Funny?

Madam, I’m so Far Away from the things I love. First is always my firstborn child, Braxton. Why don’t you tell me how long the Rainbow Bridge is? How high do I have to jump to get to Heaven? What is the acreage of the Elysian Fields? Anything dear Madam?

Approaching forty, I find myself in a peculiar situation. My parents, my Olds, still love me enough to shoulder most of my bills. It’s a daily walk of shame, Madam.

Do I love them enough to stop them? Do I love Braxton enough to let him go for a third time? Do I love Virgil enough to be the Dad I once was to his big brother? I’m not Alright.

So I don’t even imagine that there is some woman out there anymore, Madam. Thoughts?

You want to say, “She’s getting here as fast as she can.” But as I was working my dead-end Day Job—as I will be doing when you read this—I gave up. Not in the way I hoped because, again, I’m still breathing. But I’m walking through this Hell of unknown origin and distance. Only God Knows Why. Will some lover ever Find Me? Define Hell, Distance Between Lovers.

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

1184 Days Without B III, Day 625 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

What do you want to be when you grow up? Who says I want to grow up? Birthing babies is a promising career…. But instead, I look up how they’re made. But first, I had to be someone’s Dad. And now I’m someone’s benefactor. We’ll B Professional, Virgil

Thursday, April 25, 2024

Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

1180 Days Without B III, Day 621 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering we’re talking today, you can guess how this Thursday is going. What’s today’s song?

“Feeling super, super, super suicidal” ― Teen Idle by MARINA

But isn’t this me every day, Braxton? It’s as natural as the sound of your breath or footsteps down the hall. Virgil, though? Why am I so tired? Depression, Dejection, and that doggie in the window. Or rather, it was the gate I found Virgil behind at PetSmart. I’m struggling, Braxton, and I need your understanding. And Virgil’s a “dog.”

Braxton, you were anything but. Then, now, and always, you are my son. Together, we are a team. And how many times did I say I would get you one of those little red vests, Braxton? You would be my emotional support “dog.” With my money situation, you could serve as my therapist. A critic continues to tell me that I should seek professional help. Uh yeah, Sherlock. But your support means more to me than any professional help could.

That reminds me. I should find an animal communicator, too.

What? I don’t appreciate talking to you like this. I’m distracted, disturbed, and dehydrated too. I can only blame two of those things on Virgil. Why am I so mean?

Braxton, I am far from professional. I’m not a perfect person; I’ll concede to that. Parenting is not a profession… Well, I’m sure several homemakers will disagree. But when I became your Dad, it was because the Olds (my parents) misjudged my little sister. She thought it was a mistake that she was told to take care of you, B. Then there was me. Such is fate. But know this…

You’re my son, my miracle.

That is the reasoning of a God, and I’m not even that much of a man. But being a Dad, a Superman, It’s Not Easy.

Only that wasn’t your fault. And it’s not Virgil’s either. He’s here. There is a soft place for his head. And holy smokes, he’s mine. Have I miscalculated, misjudged, and got it wrong, Braxton? Why am I saying this all now? This week. It’s been A Hard Day’s Night, but…

It’s only Sunday, April 21, 2024, and sleep has been challenging. Virgil’s career is crying.

Braxton, what about me? I’d have a career in the ‘adult’ industry. Not doing it but finding it. And what about being an author? Or, if anything, anyone worthwhile. Hmm. I’m lost, Braxton, and I need your guidance as always.

Nope! If only failure was a profession. A box to check on some form. The box you rest in on the nightstand. An Ordinary Human. Good? We’ll B Professional, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 298 ~B Unlimited, Virgil, Woke~

WillLeave a comment

My grief, sure as Hell, seems to be unlimited. I’m still crying over B. And then there’s V. Three months was not enough time. And even today, he jumped when I picked him up. And what picks me up? Something, something, girls… B Unlimited, Virgil, Woke

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Tale 298 ~B Unlimited, Virgil, Woke~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I do so every day anyway. But for now, I’m looking for a reason. So Girls, Girls, Girls?

Unlimited tears over my lost boy tend to make me sleepy. That’s called Depression, right?

I’m still mourning, grieving, whatever about B III, and it’s been 1179 days and counting.

A few less, considering today is Thursday, April 18, 2024. And as I’ve been telling all of the ladies. And the spirit of my son. The week in which you’re reading this is going to suck. Much like Misha Cross… Anyway, Inspector, I wish I had other ways to distract myself. I could go and find Virgil. His fear of me seems to be unlimited. Ditto, Inspector. Living in FEAR.

I need to do better, but I have 99 Problems and a… well, never mind. My grief, grossness, and great waste of time are unlimited.

But Virgil is here. How does 620 days sound to you? Besides that 3 days/3 months pamphlet, I read. I should be finding a new book to read. It won’t be anything I can read to Virgil, but at least I could try reading it in the den instead of lying in bed another day.

I told myself I would go shopping today and catch that movie Civil War. Only Virgil was caving cowardly to some cruelty that I’ve invoked upon him. Virgil was cursed to his name if you’ve ever wondered where he got it. A burning Ring of Fire. Virgil, my little guide.

From the book Dante’s Inferno… There’s a reason the 9th Circle of Hell’s about tears.

Betrayal of my best friend.

What about my country and God himself? Braxton was an angel to everyone… Laughs out loud. Okay, he was an angel to my family and his dear aunt. Of course. B III, to me, though, was a God. Love, courage, a reason to breathe. Who else has given me such?

There is a reason I’m avoiding the politics on YouTube and such. And not only because it has been acting up lately. How many times have I watched the movie “Share?” Or is it me trying to bond with Virgil? Again, anything that gets me out of this bed, Inspector. Whatever to keep me awake and alive. Woke? My B III was my apocalypse partner.

Existence is not unlimited… Heaven? Hell? B Unlimited, Virgil, Woke

1179 Days Without B III, Day 620 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

WillLeave a comment

I don’t smoke… anything anymore. But now people are banning and/or burning books. There are plenty of hot bodies. And it’s been around 1177 days since my boy was burned. That was Thursday, February 4, 2021. Troubled? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

Monday, April 22, 2024

Tale 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

Three-Hundredth And Fortieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken, but how do I even see them? And no, I have not aligned with the book burners—never! But how do I even perceive these rules, these societal norms that seem to guide our every step? But…

Never say never, right? As far as I was concerned, Braxton, my beloved son, would live forever. And Virgil? I should pick up a book on dog training. I’ve said the same about a cookbook.

That brings me back to cooking. What did I consume that’s causing this unsettling feeling? If I still do, Justice. It’s Sunday, April 14, 2024, and as I converse with you today, you know your Monday is a source of dread for me. I anticipate this entire week will be much the same thing. Sigh.

I see the bad moon a-risin’. Is that another way of saying, I see smoke?

When it came to my son, I pretended not to. And again, there’s Virgil. There’s this house. My entire existence…

But let’s start with something smaller… something bigger. I am equal opportunity when it comes to the female form. I shouldn’t make jokes if I don’t want to be a comedian. Only, I’m not a fireman, either. When things get hot… For example, Sylvia Van Hossen and Saya Otonashi. What is it with me? A few weeks ago, my thing was older women in formal attire. Today, it’s girls with swords. It doesn’t take anything to get me hot and bothered. Heavenly Sword’s, Nariko. Ha-Ha.

Inevitable, like my thirst, terror, or tonight, tomorrow, and the next day wishing I was…

Anyway, I wish I knew what it was that gets me to, “fire away.” Is it the stress of seeing everything getting burned all around me? But again, I pretend.

Only I know I must light a fire under myself to get moving. The fact remains. I got this week’s schedule and know I’ll be burning with my humiliations galore, like the Fourth of July.

Only I know I can’t escape the fires that await me. If I do right by Virgil Vivi, will I have the chance to see my son again? Even before I knew my little Braxton, I was set to burn.

There is smoke everywhere, and I don’t know if I’m cold, cruel, or cowardly anymore. The one thing nobody says about me is, “Let him cook.” No, I’m not that special, my lady. I know.

But I am troubled. There’s smoke and darkness. Lighten up? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

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

1177 Days Without B III, Day 618 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will