Meditation 054 ~Good Night, B, V~

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 051 ~When B Provides, Virgil~

Providing a peaceful sleep. A reason to be a Dad. Having two sons. A chance to not be skeevy. Not when Braxton was following me. And what did I provide, Braxton? A box… A room to stay in. Pretty girls. The one with his name. “When B Provides, Virgil”

Wednesday, August 21, 2024

Meditation 051 ~When B Provides, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Now… I am not a believer. I’ve traversed the spectrum of faith, from ‘professed’ Christian to agnostic, to atheist, and now, to a father. A daddy, my dear.

And ain’t nobody going to tell me that the soul of my son disappeared into the existence of nothingness. I may not talk to ‘God’ anymore since Braxton’s passing. But my boy is out there somewhere, and he’s not Virgil. I’m sorry. This is one more sin that I have been committing. I’m reading quotes from Pet Loss books. I’m reaching out to B’s Aunt.

Anyway, that means reviewing some titles on reincarnation and the like. I failed. Braxton? I survived fifteen years past my “due time,” proving my son never failed me. Braxton always provided for me. But that’s not the way of things.

Especially not now as I approach my fortieth E-Day. I should be ashamed. I AM.

But that shame comes in waves. However, it hit me harder yesterday evening, Dear Echo.

Was it looking at the last cupcakes I got from the Day Job? Free food is free food, Inspector Echo.

It could have been as I finished reading Bikini Dawn. I believe Ethan can finally say that he has a harem… Olivia, Lexie, and now Meredith. I thought Meredith would end up with Maddie, “Ethan’s Daughter.” There’s still 10% left Inspector Echo. Anything could happen.

How about when I was playing The Walking Dead: No Man’s Land. And I was looking at all my resources, which meant absolutely nothing. Not with me sitting here, Inspector.

Wasn’t it last year, the year before, I was telling Virgil I couldn’t save us…

Being a hero is one thing. But being a nearly forty-year-old man with nothing, Inspector. Being a provider is the bare minimum, and I can’t even do that. A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider… That’s me. Please! V has a comfy spot and a full bowl. I can cut up some rotisserie chicken and make a salad with a head of lettuce. More books. There’s always more.

What? I need another one about Yabbos. I’m writing one about Yabbos. Or at least looking up pictures, which is why I was looking up Mezzo Forte instead of writing something, Inspector. Braxton provided me inspiration to write about “better worlds.” Even if I sent him to his room Inspector.

Providing? That’s what men do. Myself? When B Provides, Virgil

1298 Days Without B III, Day 739 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 047 ~Obsession Without B, Virgil~

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 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

One more reason to feel shame about writing. When I write, and I don’t have to. Uh, isn’t that all of “my” novels? Book Reviews? Blogging daily? And the last thing I want to do after a grueling day at the Day Job is to write. Virgil, Go Cover Braxton

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Meditation 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Time Travel can be a pain. Recently? I had a conversation with Dear Future Wife on Gotcha Day.

That would be when I met Virgil. Two years ago yesterday, Saturday, August 13, 2022.

Only somehow did Virgil get lucky or unlucky, considering I didn’t have to go to the Day Job. Inspector, I spent a few hours writing to a girl I might never meet. And it was all about a fur buddy who isn’t my son Braxton. And yet, here I am saying I can read anything.

Echo, if I am to read anything, it should be this. Be nice to yourself and Virgil Vivi, too. I would rather read Braxton’s last bill for his euthanasia than that of Virgil’s adoption. Madness.

Braxton’s things cover the coffee table, nightstand, and desk. I’ll look for Virgil’s stuff. Inspector, I’d run to my covers.

That is if I wasn’t comfortable under the covers right now. And yes, pretty embarrassed.

More like tired. Because to this day, I continue to live in the day I lost my little B III. Inspector, today I live with this question. In two years, what have I done for Virgil? Right this second Friday, August 9, 2024. I did go out for Virgil’s food. Oh, I’m a good man…

Of course, I got myself a burger. I’m always finding ways to waste money, Inspector. Finding food for myself is wasting money? It’s not like I have a future. The fortieth E-Day is approaching, and how many “holidays” are there before that? As I said, I traveled to Gotcha Day when I didn’t have to. So what’s next for me?

Uh, yes, Yabbos. M Anime’s birthday is on the 18th. The day after, I should change the air filter like a responsible “homeowner?” This isn’t mine. My Olds are paying for a bum. Their son?

Inspector, they’re covering for a nearly forty-year-old bum. I need alcohol or a drug habit.

But my drug of choice… Yabbos. The story I’m not working on because of the Day Job schedule. It’s something that I can’t read. That’s what you do, Inspector half-asleep. “Throw The Covers” over me.

There’s also looking up “artwork” for the story I want to write. Again, I spent time writing to someone on my day off. Dear Future Wife? Please! I’ll have better luck being covered in dog hair than any woman’s lady parts. Virgil, Go Cover Braxton

1291 Days Without B III, Day 732 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

My friend B’s Aunt is hurt. I can’t go and help. I can’t send her cash. And her helper has joined B on the Rainbow Bridge. Good help is hard to find. And the worse… MAGA, GOP, and Conservatives could learn from dogs. Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness.

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will? As if that’s even a question. But today is Sunday, August 4, 2024. So sinning!

And never winning. But I’m missing my son Braxton. And what about Virgil? As long as he’s not making a mess on the floor, making me hop out of bed… That’ll be for my good.

If there is always something I admire about my son, it’s this. Every sound Braxton made was towards my benefit. Even if he was mad. My little boy said more than nearly anyone in my existence. Well, short of his Aunt and the pictures M Anime and Cherry once sent.

What was it I was saying about sin? Next to sending Braxton to his end and myself being born… E-Day draws ever closer. Admiring a nice pair of Yabbos is my kryptonite. Help yourself to my cash. Pretty, pretty girls.

But I’m still thinking about what happened to Braxton’s Aunt. And before that, her Gabe.
She got hurt, and Gabe died in his sleep. I had to watch Braxton’s euthanasia because there was nothing I could do to save him. Last year, I told 2-V I don’t know my friend.
We were burning up in this house, and I could not help us. Not to mention how much money I lost when his Old Man and his friend took me for a ride with fixing the AC, Inspector. But who am I to talk about money with everything he spends on me? Hmm. I’m ungrateful.

Pathetic, Useless, less than Helpful—my crime with existing. I can’t help anyone, but can I get out of everyone’s way, Inspector? How I try…

If Braxton and I had a theme, Woodkid’s Run Boy Run would be it. I’d tell Braxton I wanted to find a place where we wouldn’t ever be in someone’s way. That would be my way of helping the world. To be far away from it. But because Braxton was alive, I needed to stand.

That’s what a man does, Inspector. He provides, protects, procreates, ha-ha. He stands because the world needs good people. Helpful people. Braxton was a helper. A great man once said look for the helpers. Braxton saved me. He was a godsend, a savior, a dog…

Braxton was a helper, and Virgil could learn plenty. And me? I have no cash or courage, so I can’t help… Braxton and Virgil’s Helpfulness.

1284 Days Without B III, Day 725 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

Everything happens for a reason. NOT? Like me reading about the Howlers and one of Darrow’s best friends dying. Uh, spoiler alert… My best friend is gone, and now my second best friend is mourning her fur baby “Gabe.” Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs

Saturday, August 3, 2024

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But that doesn’t make me miss my boy, my son, Braxton, any less. If cryogenically frozen…

But I’ve been lost in fiction for this week, Lady Lunalesca. The cosmos’s coldness? Yes, I’m still reading “Morning Star.” We’ll get to that. There’s “my” unnamed title, “Sofía’s Nightmare.” Sofía, in a bunny costume from The Blackmail II: The Animation, is with the CEO. He’s saying, “Let’s Get It On”. There’s a random book I bought, too. Burning cash. It’s my way of finding comfort in these trying times.

Lunalesca, what am I forgetting? Got To Be Real, right? Braxton’s on a seventies kick. Wherever he is? Again, he’s not cryogenically frozen. B died. And now he has company.

Yesterday, right after speaking with Lady Sophia, I got the word from Braxton’s Aunt. Her fur baby, Gabriel Michael, joined Braxton with the “Spirit In The Sky.” August 2, 2024

Braxton’s Aunt’s son passed away.

If I didn’t make that clear, Lady Lunalesca, may his little soul rest in peace. She has to make decisions as I did when Braxton met his end. But Gabe tried to spare his mom. He died on his own and can say I did it “My Way.” That’s Frank Sinatra in 1969. Sixties and seventies music? I wonder. How will Gabriel talk to his mom? I’m trying as well.

Lunalesca, I’m at a loss. I have a record of what I did when Braxton fell, but I don’t know what to tell his Aunt. Who have I ever buried before… That I loved? Really, Luna. Two-legged family… I swear.

Braxton is in a box on the nightstand and a pendant I wear. Burial details are something new to me.

But I know she’s getting Gabe back as well. Braxton was cremated on February 4th, and he was “home” on February 10th. As for a ceremony? That I lacked Lunalesca.

This leads me back to reading. I showed Braxton’s Aunt as many books on grieving as I could—and there are even more. But how did I spend the rest of my night as she grieved?

I’m burying myself deeper with M Anime and her troubles as well. She’s the “Girl All The Bad Guys Want.” Why she deals with me, I’ll never know. Grieving, Groaning. I feel like I’m drowning in it all. Depression, Depravity.

Lunalesca, I’m doing one or the other. Or reading Cherry’s writing. There’s the Day Job humiliations. But Thursday pales in comparison to Friday’s news. Poor Gabe. Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs

1280 Days Without B III, Day 721 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Roleplay, Cosplay, and will I even make it to Halloween. With texts from my father and the things I have to do at the Day Job… If I can be real. I wish I were… uh, with Braxton. Which explains Virgil being all cuddly. “Virgil, Don’t B Bad.”

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Meditation 030 ~Virgil, Don’t B Bad~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. No, not Virgil. He’s been a GD angel from last night to now. How long will he last?

I always expect the worst of people, including my Old Man’s dogs… But that’s a good story for another time. The question is, why am I so late talking to you today? It’s 7:30 a.m.

Humiliations Galore? Sure. But as always, let me remember my biggest sin of all. Echo,

my son is dead. It started on a Wednesday afternoon three years ago. Braxton Barks. Conversely, Virgil pulled a move from Braxton’s playbook, which explains where I am right now. Surprise, surprise, still in bed. And I have time before outside shenanigans. How about breakfast? Both Virgil and I skipped dinner last night as well, Inspector. Why? Braxton dying, me being born, not accepting what I’ve become. Monster, Savage, Coward?

Braxton’s father was my calling.

But yesterday, what was I? Don’t I always say the Day Job makes me into a villain in one way or another? There’s acting, and then there’s whatever I did at the meeting on Tuesday. Inspector, I owe the entire Harlem Nights cast an apology. Especially Della Reese as Vera.

“Are you saying I’m stealing?” Vera from Harlem Nights 1998.

Roleplay Inspector… There’s plenty I can do with that. I scare myself sometimes, and according to my coworkers, I scare them too. But aren’t I roleplaying every day anyway to get by? My Old Man texted me the other day, and I had to pretend to be okay. Echo, it’s exhausting. And the truth is…

I am not okay. I haven’t been since Braxton. It’s hard to keep pretending. They say fake it till you make it, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever make it. Only the real me…

Dead. That’s what “bad” people deserve. But to live as a monster or to die as a good man? You know that’s from the movie Shutter Island. I need to watch that. And the Olympics?

What happened to my patriotism? I’ve had a few POR… Passions. Saddens me to say. I’m starting on Day One again. But I blame the novel I’m writing. I blame Camp NaNoWriMo. But you know what, Inspector? I’m not giving up. I won’t get close to 50,000 words, but 15,000?

But why bother? What “reasonable” person imagines a girl with several gentlemen callers, I ask?

Or think to borrow… well, steal the hotel scene from Himawari wa Yoru ni Saku?

Inspector to spend the day cuddling with my boys. That’s What Makes A Good Man. Maybe. Virgil, Don’t B Bad.

1277 Days Without B III, Day 718 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 026 ~The V Games Braxton~

Have they begun complaining about The Olympics yet? I called myself patriotic, taking the day off to watch the Opening Ceremony twice. It gave me time to catch up on mobile games and anime. What about writing? The V Games Braxton.

Saturday, July 27, 2024

Meditation 026 ~The V Games Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… But it isn’t from writing—not yet, at least. And that’s not why I started writing.

At this point of the story, my son Braxton would raise his head. I told him that I was going to give him the life he deserved… WE deserved when I finished, Lunalesca. With editing…

I was writing long before I started singing “Welcome to My World” or “Welcome to the World.” Sigh… Today’s songs are brought to you by Wang Chung and Kevin Rudolf. Lunalesca, remind me to make a playlist of the songs Braxton sends me. Did that.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, my writing. Well, my lack thereof with yesterday. The Olympics have begun. Here are a few reasons why opening my eyes today hurts:

  1. Braxton isn’t here anymore
  2. I look at myself
  3. Losing myself to Yabbos
  4. The Matrix has me…
  5. I see the successful
  6. Look what I’m writing

I’m determined to get back on track, Lady Lunalesca, but…

There’s Too Much Sauce. I woke up late again, ok. And I should be grateful for the hours next week for my Day Job. But look at my typical routine, and It’s A Beautiful Morning:

So I’m sitting here, and as I said, Braxton’s Playlist has included again: Wang Chung, Kevin Rudolf, Drake, DJ ESCO, and The Rascals. B loved music, movies, and big mammaries. Then I was thinking about how I barely got any writing done. The Opening Ceremony. But what I did made me question where the novel is moving towards, Lunalesca. Once I read that a good artist creates, a great artist steals. Uh, that’s rude, maybe…

But sitting here, I was thinking about Thursday. Uh Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi no Etude~. Me and Japanese, Lunalesca. Let’s just say Casual Romance Club. I’m trying to pin down the novel type. And there’s Casual Romance Club meets The Blackmail II: The Animation, plus Rei Ayanami all wrapped up in “Sofía’s Nightmare,” Lunalesca. However, as you can see, I began looking at The V Games books by Ker Dukey while searching for something to read. And as always, there are Yabbos. In this case, Elsa’s from Frozen… Uh, gross…

And then I wonder why my business is nowhere. I’m broke. And Braxton is gone. Where’d You Go? Lunalesca, I swear! The V Games Braxton.

1273 Days Without B III, Day 714 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will