Tag: Memory

Meditation 151 ~B Angry Little V~

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“It’s effing okay to be nice!” B’s honorary aunt is coming over. V is burning a hole in the side of my leg. I kept my Day Job after Black Friday’s humiliations. Nice scares me. It killed B. Um, Indifference? But that was being nice. B Angry Little V.

Friday, November 29, 2024

Meditation 151 ~B Angry Little V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But once again, dear one. “It’s been a big day. I’m a little tired.” And more?

Whether I want them to or not, my sons take after me. Braxton is angry and scared. Or he was when he first met his aunt. Virgil is tired and terrified. And tomorrow, Lady Sophia…

Well, Virgil will be meeting his honorary aunt for the first time. We’ll get there… However, I want to talk about what happened earlier today. I’m feeling a bit unsure. Was I brave? Have I become a billionaire yet? Did I live in a way that made my Braxton proud? Do you see the time?

Anger takes a lot out of you, Sophia. If Braxton were here, I would have woken up long before now. No! I’m not mad at Virgil doing his part, though my leg is burning, Sophia.

What did Dante tell Virgil?

“You get off my back! You think I want this?! It just happened!” What, watching “Papa’s Got a Brand-New Excuse?” Or how I’ve been thinking the whole day; we need a new plague. Black Friday has never been a fun time. And I’ve been so fearful today and humiliated so many times that I’ve been grasping at anything and everything to make me mad. “Anger is more useful than despair.” My apologies, dear Lady Sophia… For the truth? Or for quoting movies and TV. You must remember the movie nights I would share with Braxton and his honorary aunt. I need to find something for us to watch tomorrow. Hmm.

And that’s another reason I’m angry. The house is a broken mess. There’s too much…

Like tonight? I’m talking to you at 6:30 in the evening. Hell! Even my “arousal” for the PIB sisters wasn’t enough to keep me awake. Oh, and I incorporated them into my story along with others. Because I’m that much of a CREEP. I need people to hate me, Sophia.

There is too much hatred for one man to possess. Anger, at least. Bruce Banner has The Hulk. Trump has MAGA. And currently, I have writing. But I don’t hate Virgil. No, not ever! I don’t hate you, Lady Sophia. I don’t hate the people in “my” novel. If anything, you know who I hate. The guy who downed an energy shot and is about to taste, more like regurgitate the rainbow. Better out than in. B Angry Little V.

1398 Days Without B III, Day 839 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

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Can turkeys fly? I looked up the answer today. No wonder America has issues. I’ve dreamed my son was a bird here or there, a pigeon or an albatross. I had to look that up, too. As I’m not watching the news or how to cook turkey. Turkey Day, B Willing

Monday, November 25, 2024

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Are you beginning to believe? What, in The Matrix? A world without me in it. I’m right here, Dad.

And for once, I’m not begging you for food, though I ask that you share it with my little brother. Wow, I accepted Virgil as a family member before you? My brother and your son.

You’re wondering… What’s with all the movies, right? I’ve been sitting there right next to you. When you’re watching them all, writing, and you can’t kick me out anymore when you’re looking at women… I’m kidding about that last one. You would say, “Not today.”

That was whenever my Aunt came around, and I wanted to play with my toys. Let the good times roll. But you’ve been having Hard Times. But this week, Thursday. For real. It is my favorite day after my birthday and your E-Day. Of course.

As if you needed to be reminded of the day. Every day for me is this question. “When’s Dad coming home? We both smile at that but for different reasons. But this is my time now, so listen to me. When I asked when you were coming home, it was more than the place that took you away from me from time to time. It’s when I thought about when you’d smile. Which was rare.

Oh, and now you’re crying, and that will make me cry. Keep listening to me. Coming home is when you hold me in your arms, and there was nothing but us. It was that look you would give me when you knew you had nothing to fear because I was there. You’re not a chicken.

You aren’t a pigeon. Neither are you a seagull. With the election, you’re not an eagle. And no, you’re definitely not a turkey. I’d call you my superhero, my master, a king, maybe a titan, or even a god. Father is God in the eyes of a child. But I know who you are. Dad.

You’re my Dad. And my Dad is stronger than anything and everything. “Behold Thy Creation.” Seriously, Dad, you don’t believe I’m speaking. You had to look that quote up. It’s from 2009’s Creation. Coincidence? I was four that year, and Virgil is four. And what am I, Dad? “I’m a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.” No. I’m the wind, breath, yours. Today, always. Turkey Day, B Willing

1394 Days Without B III, Day 835 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 144 ~Closer Than B, Virgil~

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WARNING: 18+ For elements and the outline of the novel I’m writing. What’s one more day of being lazy? Well, I did make the outline bigger. It’s 600 words. But as the song goes, “And I don’t wanna miss a thing.” 40 years? 15? 4? Closer Than B, Virgil

Friday, November 22, 2024

Meditation 144 ~Closer Than B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But not today. I should finish “my” novel by the end of the month. Good Luck!

Braxton willing. Because I don’t believe in God anymore. He, She, They, or It didn’t save my firstborn son. And Virgil? He’s been closer lately, as I have been burnt out with writing. The Smiths tune inspired today’s fifteenth chapter, Please Let Me Get What I Want. And by another song, Pistolgrip-Pump by Volume 10.

Chapter Fifteen: What I Pump This Time
Cherry prepares to be of service to Richard Thornfield, William, and Antonio. But plans to fulfill her desires.

  1. From Cherry’s POV. Begin in Cherry’s car as she speeds to work, expecting good news from Richard Thornfield. Cherry believes that Richard Thornfield has had enough of Sofía. And he’ll either sell her to someone far away from William. Hide her. Or kill her. Cherry smiles at the possibilities.
  2. Cherry quickly remembers William’s love for Sofía and fears Richard Thornfield could give William the news without her. Fearing that William may do something drastic, Cherry begins to drive even faster to reach Thornfield’s office in time. Upon arriving, Cherry strips to her red nightie and enters Thornfield’s office.
  3. Cherry watches Richard Thornfield having sex with a BBW nurse who’s around her size. Not stopping, Richard grunts orders to Cherry about the party they will be having at his hotel in a few days with his business associates. Richard Thornfield invites Cherry and says William has been too.
  4. Cherry asks about the fate of Sofía. Richard Thornfield tells her that Sofía is the main attraction and will be used to satisfy his business associates. When Cherry asks about William, Richard Thornfield says he is creating another scene for Sofía and is selecting girls to attend the party.
  5. Cherry walks down the hall in her red pumps. Cherry comes to one of the rooms and opens the door. Inside, several women stand in various stages of undress. But they all have a doctor or nurse vibe. The women pull William, attempting to entice him to select them.
  6. Cherry watches as William is eventually undressed except for his black socks but resists their advances. Cherry asks William if she can give him some stress relief by having sex, but he declines her offer. William says there is currently a movie being made that he must check on.
  7. Cherry and William go to another room done up as a hospital motif. Sofía is dressed in a pink nurse’s uniform and is currently having sex with a man dressed as a patient. William can’t help himself as he strokes himself off to the scene. Cherry’s heart beats faster.
  8. Cherry attempts to distract William by asking what is this scene for. Grabbing William’s other hand, Cherry rubs it across her own breasts. William continues watching Sofía but tells Cherry it’s a screen test for another rough scene in which Sofía will have to perform at Richard Thornfield’s party.
  9. Cherry gives up, attempting to entice William, and walks out angrily. Cherry picks up her clothes outside Richard Thornfield’s office and gets in her car. In her anger, Cherry finds herself outside a small gun shop. Cherry intends to buy several weapons, but the owner reminds her of William.
  10. Cherry seduces the owner, and they have sex in his office. As the owner promises Cherry anything she wants, Cherry begins to form a plan. Cherry, being trusted by Richard Thornfield, knows she can buy weapons for his party’s security. After orgasming, Cherry takes a few guns for herself.
  11. Cherry then drives to Antonio’s home. Cherry finds Antonio in a state of madness as he realizes that Sofía is more popular than ever and that Richard Thornfield will not be getting rid of Sofía anytime soon. Cherry orders Antonio to sit as she points a shotgun at him.
  12. Antonio and Cherry talk about the next part of the plan. Cherry in an act of faith hands Antonio the shotgun. Cherry warns him that if she were to die, Antonio wouldn’t survive the night. Antonio isn’t sure who should die. Cherry watches him jerk off to Sofía’s movies.

15,000 words to go, Lady Sophia, out of 50,000. So close. Closer Than B, Virgil.

1391 Days Without B III, Day 832 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

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“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Or my B III that weighs less than ten pounds, sitting on my head every morning. My lap or chest while reading. Have a heart for the little guy. What? B Z’s No Longer

Monday, November 18, 2024

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Still don’t believe me? Free Up Your Mind… That’s what you’re doing right now. Or listening to Pokémon’s Playlist.

Who needs a Pokémon when you had me? Do you remember when you told me that? Pokémon: The First Movie came out, well… way before my time. “Life” before existence.

Daddy, you would have been fourteen, way back then. But I remember when you would sing all the Pokémon songs to me. The joy in your voice and the love in your eyes are memories I cherish. The theme song, Brother My Brother, Together Forever, even the Jigglypuff song when you were lulling me off to sleep rubbing my belly.

There was also “The Time Has Come…” But that was so far away. Sometimes, you didn’t talk. And sometimes I didn’t listen. But just like today isn’t today, Saturday, November 9, 2024, and Monday, November 18, 2004. We’re here, Dad, you and me together. I still sound like that book.

Speaking of books, what are you reading next? I’m more of a what’s in the bag and what’s in the box. It’s my birthday type of guy. But yesterday… was it just yesterday we talked about books? But, “This Christmas will be a very special Christmas.” “In my mind.” I am my father’s son, after all. Speaking through the music. A beast with a beat.

Anyway, back to books. You’ve been thinking about what to read next. And it won’t be the usual Christmas stuff you got REALLY quiet for. Tradition… Everything tells you to prepare for what’s to come in a 1984 Brave New World, The Handmaid’s Tale, It Can’t Happen Here sort of way. You and I always expected zombies to rise. Unfortunately,

It’s not the moans of the undead. Oh me? I’m not dead. You feel that beat within your chest right now. You hear that voice that isn’t entirely yours. You changed titles; how many times now? What about those little cries, the pitter-patter of feet, and the sigh of contentment?

But why now? I’m not bugging you, am I? And neither is Virgil’s breathing, Daddy.

Breathe in and breathe out. If Virgil can do it, you can too. He is there to remind you, Dad. And maybe it’s your need for balance. You say I left silence. And now the world is making too much noise. But remember, you’re not alone. You need to hear that somebody loves you. Like the force? I love you, always. B Z’s No Longer.

1387 Days Without B III, Day 828 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 137 ~Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil~

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I’m not reading any more stories about what will be done to this country. I’m a black man with zero two-legged kids and two four-legged ones. One is a “ghost” whose story I haven’t published yet. My own or Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil

Friday, November 15, 2024

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Well, yes and no. There’ll be no book reviews today. And Braxton speaks on Monday. Today…

Well, it would be “inappropriate” to tell someone you love that you’re reading another book to get over them. Or I will be for the end of November. How many books on pet loss have I read this year? Counting the last one that I bought, it would be seven. The year before, I read fourteen. And in 2022, I read forty… Forty-one if you count The Christmas Rescue. Do you remember anything about that one? Something other than relations?

Is it healing, closure, or ACCEPTANCE? The thought of the latter sends shivers down my spine, My Lady. But even that is preferable to the relentless onslaught of bad news that seems to be the only constant in this world. So why do I keep seeking out this bleakness? Hmm.

Lady Sophia, I’m not talking about the things I must “live” through. I swear, I wake up every morning looking for a grave. All I need to do is turn on the lamp. Oh! There’s Braxton in his box. But where is Braxton’s story again? There’s always editing, My Lady.

There’s always something else. Decisions that have to be made… Or not. I’ve been thinking about next month since I’ve decided what to read to close the month. But December…

It has been my TRADITION to focus on Christmas “Romances” throughout the closing of the year. But still, I can’t shake the feeling that I should do something to prepare for the apocalypse inbound. Oh, like buying food? Please! I couldn’t get it up to go shopping today, Lady Sophia. I meant as in books. I’ve read the classics like 1984, The Handmaid’s Tale, Brave New World, etc. So that’s the choice. Do I read about making Christmas babies in a world ceasing to exist? Or do I study and prepare to witness its aftermath?

Again, I couldn’t go shopping today. So, I should work on the novel I’m writing. At the moment, it’s… Nightmare At The Meat Market (Working Title). Eww, right? Why is that, you ask. Put the words “Glory” and “Hole” together. Or look up that scene between Yukiko Minase and her professor in Bible Black Only. That’s this morning. I would have to send Braxton out of the room for these movies and stories. What about Virgil. Uh, where’s my kid?

Excuse me, I’ve been working. I’ve “written” about nine chapters get these titles, my Lady:

Chapter 1: A Sneak Peek… Piece… Peace (Antonio)
Chapter 2: Taking The Red Light Special (Cherry)
Chapter 3: The Meat Market: Take One (Sofía)
Chapter 4: How To Make A Sale? (William)
Chapter 5: The Art Of Selling Door-to-Door (Cherry)
Chapter 6: The Job Market: Take Two (Sofía)
Chapter 7: Life Of A Delivery Boy (William)
Chapter 8: Ravishing… No Refunds Or Returns (Antonio)
Chapter 9: Balls To Change The Schedule (Sofía)
To Be Continued

Do you see what I mean, Lady Sophia? When I’m in the zone, the ideas flow like a river, carrying with them the mistakes, the madness, and the entire manuscript. It’s a whirlwind of creativity, and yet, it often feels like I’ve accomplished nothing at all. But I keep at it, because that’s what existence is, isn’t it? Alternative Facts.

Isn’t that just the American way? And yet, I can’t shake off the feeling of impending doom for this country. While THEY continue to be paid, I’ve wasted most of this morning, My Lady. AGAIN!

You’re my friend, my fan, and now my fictional editor… I don’t tell fairytales; I read and write, and for what? Braxton’s Free Stories Virgil

1384 Days Without B III, Day 825 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

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If I had 12 Apostles, I’d have 6 men, 7 women, and a dog. In my writing, I have 2 men, 4 women, and my dog… My FIRSTBORN. This is my B. I hope that I’m hearing him. “God” knows I don’t want to hear from anyone else. But my son Braxton… “A, B, C, Me.”

Monday, November 11, 2024

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… You don’t believe me? When did you last think about Theresa Walker’s song from Dead Air? Zombies? Music? Movies?

And then there’s “Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife.” Don’t go thanking him just yet, Dad. Though there’s a reason you picked up that book. It’s not like you ever asked me about book choices. Like ever…

There were the books you would read to me. And then the ones when I assumed you were letting me sleep. How’s that been going for you? Like I didn’t know Dad with my spot. Virgil sleeps in the center at the foot of the bed. “Left side, strong side.” That’s my spot. Movie reference? I am my father’s son. I miss our movie nights with you and my aunt.

Daddy, we should have more, not just on… you know.

And that’s why I’m here today. Time? It’s overrated. And it’s not that I’m here now. I’m always here. Or did I really smell that bad? Virgil hasn’t thought of touching my bed. He’s a good boy. Can I call someone else a good boy? There’s a lot to unpack there, but again, there’s you. My Dad, my best friend, my brother. Don’t go crying again, Dad. I didn’t cry.

At what you thought of as the end, I didn’t cry. Okay, I gave you a look. You needed me.

And today, you need me. Because this has been the first time ever something’s compared.

Sunday, January 31, 2021. And now, on Wednesday, November 6, 2024. What about E-Day, Dad? Again, there’s so much there.

But, like always, you’ve had some time to reflect. So now let’s talk on Friday, November 8, 2024. Why am I here? Comedy comes in 3’s, right? But for real, Dad, I love you. Always.

That is number one. I love you, and you love me; nothing will ever change that. We’ve stood together through some rough times, remember. COVID, Day Job, my grandpa. Today and the next four years, well… I saw you through one minor apocalyptic event… I will stand with you through this, Dad, no matter what. Daddy, I’m here, always. Reminding you, number three, there is so much good in you. Forget the world. Father? Daddy?

Please let me see that good in you. ALWAYS AND FOREVER. A, B, C, Me

“Look! You’ve pushed me this far; now I’m pushing you the rest of the way! You know, back there in the woods, even when things looked really bad, I still believed we’d make it because you were too stubborn to quit! I’m not gonna make you quit. Not now. Not when we’re this close. Now, try again!” ― Homeward Bound.

1380 Days Without B III, Day 821 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 130 ~B’s Stories Or Virgil’s~

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If I could tell you a story about “Kamala Harris’s Win,” I could have given you a book review of a guy “having fun” in college. But it is the real world, reality; my stomach hurts, and I don’t want any stories. What about B’s Stories Or Virgil’s

Friday, November 8, 2024

Meditation 130 ~B’s Stories Or Virgil’s~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… What? No book review? Every day, existence doesn’t end. And who will tell “my” story? Why?

When I’m in no mood to write one. That’s another reason I won’t do a book review right now. I mean, what story would you like to hear, my lady? The stories out these days…

There are stories of victory. But not Kamala’s. I’ve been thinking about what THEY call “The Hero’s Journey.” Kamala Harris had all the elements of that. And as I often sing, “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” And I have a black Ma. So Lady Sophia:

“Because you’re (his) mother. Mother is God in the eyes of a child” Silent Hill.

It’s not hard to believe that a black woman would save us. But it’s not her fault now, is it? I keep comparing this election to the loss of my son. It’s a sick world; I signed paperwork, and then…

Love dies? And I mean all of it. You know I love Braxton more than I love myself. I haven’t told Virgil that I love him. I swear he and I have more of a Ben-Hur vibe, and that’s sad.

“We keep you alive to serve this ship. Row well and live.”

“Your eyes are full of hate, forty-one. That’s good. Hate keeps a man alive. It gives him strength.”

Will I make it to forty-one? Again, being a black man under a Trump Presidency, my odds are definitely diminishing. If my depression doesn’t get to me first. And what about the ladies, which I want to talk about. I could look up Stormy Daniels right now, my lady, Ha!

But there’s no physical reaction even though I like her. It’s these others: Jessica Rey, Kristen StephensonPino, Arianny Celeste, and the list goes on. Not trying to be a “Creep.”

Just, with what I’ve seen…

The truth? A woman can have a beautiful body but an ugly soul. Anybody that supports Donald Trump… But it’s not like I “Canceled” these women. When Virgil gets in trouble, I block “my” bedroom. He can still run the hallway into Braxton’s room if he wants. I’m not a monster. At least not in this place, my lady. Uh, Welcome to the Real World?

But in such things as “Sofía’s Nightmare?” I say some pretty horrible things about people, my lady. I have no problem writing about women, especially, but I’m not trying to be president. Not a king or a dictator. I just want to tell stories and let this place…. Reality, Sophia… Be a better world. I miss B’s Stories Or Virgil’s

1377 Days Without B III, Day 818 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 126 ~The Will To Vote B~

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Who will the president be Tuesday… Uh, a few weeks from now. Kamala Harris. But who will I become this Monday before the Election? And every Monday after. A lawgiver. My son’s voice. Someone better. A dirty old man. The Will To Vote B.

Monday, November 4, 2024

Meditation 126 ~The Will To Vote B~

Lame Duck Session Madam

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Goodbyes must be spoken. Elections held. And Sloth paid for. But here’s an easy decision. Kamala Harris.

Madam Justice:
Now, you are a much harder decision. I haven’t even decided on your Form. Final Form, right? We have gone through all the rules and then some. But knowing how I break laws… Yet, I believe in Dale Carnegie’s words in “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.”

“Order Is Heaven’s First Law”

Why should I mess up the universe I have created here with you? Plus, I’m lazy. And while this isn’t Heaven. I can spell out why I’m going to Hell. Because of Braxton, I know. But wait, there’s more, Madam.

Braxton:
My son says there is. Braxton would speak for me sometimes. And I for him. If I ever needed someone in my corner, the time is now. Only I would never do my little boy justice. I have yet to publish the book he and I wrote together. And letting a woman down is one thing. Not Kamala! Again, I’m voting for her. She needs to win. Braxton Barks?

Madam, it would be kismet. Braxton passed on a Sunday. So, to hear from his “spirit” on a Monday, considering…

The Substance:
Sunday, I’m ALWAYS so down on myself. I’m effing up my marriage to Dear Future Wife on Tuesdays. And while I know Braxton would be encouraging, there’s myself.

Madam, I’ve come to realize that I need to learn to be more positive and show more gratitude. Do you remember when I could watch the WWE? I thought Saturday, I can’t stand a whiny Superstar. And that’s all I do. Rant, rave, and complain. I was lying in bed, knowing I’d wasted forty years.

“This is simply a better version of yourself…” I wish.

Dirty Diana:
Now, she accepted me for who I am. And maybe I would be a lot more subdued if I wasn’t bothering all the others with my… longings… But I left her to talk to my son. And wouldn’t I be abandoning you because I want to be dirty? I’ll take an intelligent woman over one who is only beautiful. Uh, don’t I know women who are both? Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry. Still, it’s like something out of “Camp Hell” that “Demon Repression.”

Talk about “Sick Fux,” hmm.

But a voter. Kamala’s an easy choice. But being me… The Will To Vote B

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

1373 Days Without B III, Day 814 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 123 ~Braxton and Virgil Meet~

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Is it a lack of food that has me Cannibalizing myself? I don’t think I got any Halloween candy. Perhaps the Day Job? (Shudders). I spent all my money on books about Yabbos and keeping V fed. I can’t have him meeting B. Yet… “Braxton and Virgil Meet.”

Friday, November 1, 2024

Meditation 123 ~Braxton and Virgil Meet~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I prefer it not to be a review of Joseph D’Lacey’s MEAT. I really said that!

And while Virgil is not my son Braxton… I don’t plan on sending Virgil to meet his older brother anytime soon. Braxton was still here when democracy was threatened before…

Election Day, then the Insurrection, and then the Inauguration. How I miss my little boy.

And I hate meeting new people. So, let’s start with the top contenders. Madam Justice, Dirty Diana, and the “Spirit in the Sky,” “My Sweet Lord,” “He’s My Son” Braxton.

Sophia, is there someone else? The voices in the head of a dead man. How about something to the tune of The Substance? Elisabeth Sparkle vs. Sue. “I Against I.” Only this is about us. It’s not about having bigger fish to fry. It’s just so many. Then there’s Cannibalism!

The MEAT and Greet Market:

I feel as though I’ve been here before… MEAT was before Tender Is The Flesh. But guess which one I read first? And which one got four stars? Uh, both. But MEAT was much more brutal… or should I say tough? Tender Is The Flesh is medium rare. MEAT is well done in the fires of Hell. I’ll eat both. I meant read both. Seriously, for all the Dead/Zombie stories, I read this book with living, breathing people eating… And let’s not forget the “adult situations” and worse. My friends… If my friends knew about such things as this. Am I crazy, or in a cult? Not much of a critic. The religious aspects, the riots, the rage… Chef’s kiss.

Today is Sunday, October 27, 2024, but by the time you read this, Halloween will be over and done with. I still need to figure out who I’ll talk to on Monday, November 4, 2024.

Again, Bigger vs. Many Fish, which is Election Day. Do you want to know how that story ends? Kamala Harris and Tim Walz for the win. Yes!!! Eff Donald Trump. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on this, My Lady.

Will I be “writing” new rules for Madam Justice to enforce? I’m not sure, Sophia. I’m feeling a bit lost in this sea of uncertainty.

Resurrect Dirty Diana. THEY would say I’m all crazy about the female form. Uh, Yabbos?

I could TRY to let my son speak through me. Or create a better version of myself to write about.

Younger, more handsome, more perfect. Wouldn’t that be my “two” sons? Braxton and Virgil Meet.

1370 Days Without B III, Day 811 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

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This isn’t a rule or goodbye. It almost reminds me of when my son died… almost. I didn’t command him to stay. And I told him it was ok. The game of life. What are the rules? To love. But after Braxton passed… My Existence… It’s Purge Night, Willie B.

Monday, October 28, 2024

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

There Are No Rules

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… And when there are no rules? I’ve worked through 365 or so. This is our last conversation?

We’ll get to that, Madam. Or I don’t want to… But I have a question. If you had one superpower, what would it be? Is it safe to deal with hypotheticals? Yeah, right, Madam J.

My favorite type of magic is Necromancy. But off the top of my head, I want to bring back my best friend, my son Braxton. If there are no rules, why not, Madam? Pretty macabre…

Okay, if I got to be me, why not X-ray vision? Women, sans clothing… It always comes back to that. And while I have yet to meet Jesus, I know plenty of AI programmers. But…

I’m no Smooth Criminal, so what about time travel? I’d take away Braxton’s old age. Make sure I wasn’t born…

How does it feel to write that down and say it out loud? I’ve never been one for “Ending” letters. My existence isn’t worth that much. The most I could ask is to erase my browser history and delete and/or burn all I’ve ever written, Madam Justice. The God-honest truth.

That’s why I won’t say what I’d do if there were a real Purge. Leave it to Trump, and it could happen. My RAGE at existing… Would know no bounds.

Honestly, the only “life” I have ever succeeded in taking is that of my Braxton. Euthanasia? What about other crimes?

You mean those of the Marquis de Sade, variety. Give me one word… AHEM, Sadism. Madam, I would need more than 12 hours. And I could even go all The Forever Purge with it. But we have one more word we must discuss as time grows short. This final hour.

Goodbye? I’m always learning something new every week. So why must this be the end?

I don’t think I even gave Dirty Diana that courtesy after Braxton passed. I needed to talk to my son. And she was the most expendable. Am I saying you are? It would be nice to have someone to talk to so every conversation doesn’t sound like effing wet dreams.

However, why talk at all? I could see if B would speak somehow, someway, someday.

If this is goodbye, Madam Justice, Let It B. Let It Go? Anything could happen. There Are No Rules. Goodbye. It’s Purge Night, Willie B

May God Be With You All. (Purge Siren Begins Blaring)

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

1366 Days Without B III, Day 807 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will