Tag: Memory

Tale 331 ~Harder To Breathe Up Top~

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Will you breathe? Will, breathe. More like, “Daddy, breathe.” Because when my furry little boy died, I didn’t plan on it. But I’ve managed for 1212 days. There are always more books to read. Or babes to look at. But to exist? Harder To Breathe Up Top

Monday, May 27, 2024

Tale 331 ~Harder To Breathe Up Top~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Some people cancel them outright. Some are forgotten about. And still, some will evolve into, well, anything.

It makes my head hurt, along with the time travel. I’m speaking to you on Tuesday, May 21, 2024. However, when this rule was written out, I traced it back to 2018. I mean, wow!

I figured I’d be in another place entirely. Braxton would be twenty next year. And that’s when I expected to lose him. That is if he didn’t lose me by smothering me with his fur.

So what’s making my head hurt now? Why am I breathing when I don’t really want to, Madam? Let’s start by raising my head in the morning. The first breath that enters my lungs. It’s either my Braxton’s name that comes out. Or expletives from my mourning or moaning. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This.

I’m glad I covered the mirror in the bedroom. But there is the black mirror, AKA the phone, on the table beside me. I hold my breath, looking at the beauty of others. My mind.

Inevitably, I will find other ways not to breathe and instead sound like the zombie I imagine I am. The moans of newly found flesh.

Did I really just say that? And what’s worse is the look on my face when I say or do such things. Taking OnlyFans pictures.

But I could be so exhausted that whatever… risqué book I’m reading falls and hits me in the face. How many times has that happened?

And yet I live. My head stays intact. Breathing away and denying my fondest wish.

What? To follow Braxton wherever he went. The Rainbow Bridge? I am Braxton’s father, but if I had been even more of a man… Would he have lived? I keep asking myself that, Madam. I wanted to be a man of money, merit, and miracles. I would build our Heaven.

There would be no air because we would have everything, and no one could touch my son or me. And yet he found it. I suppose. My B III is sitting in his bed on the vet’s table, not breathing. As for me? When was the last time the “bigger head” has been up? Uhh…

There’s plenty of air as I fall Down To Earth. Nobody but Virgil and I. Harder To Breathe Up Top

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

1212 Days Without B III, Day 653 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 328 ~Parenting B’s and V’s~

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Not to sound like certain people, but manhood equals fatherhood. I go back and forth over men I admire. Some fathers. Still others could provide for their own home. I gave Braxton all I had. Virgil? By providing book reviews? “Parenting B’s and V’s.”

Friday, May 24, 2024

Tale 328 ~Parenting B’s and V’s~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… This is a story about being a Dad… Oh, right! What about being a son? Uh?

Braxton is gone, and I’m thirty-nine. But B will always be my son. And I still have my Olds. But what kind of man am I? What would Virgil name me, Sophia? Just “Some Guy”

Yeah, someone who was so busy hating the world that I forgot to show love to my son, B III. I was indifferent. Is that how my Olds were? As long as I don’t embarrass them. Then, Everything Is Awesome? When I was a child, Sophia. What’s My Age Again?

Humiliations Galore, my lady. I’m the one who can’t pay his cable or satellite bill. Whatever, I wasn’t watching it a lot. And what I watched. Geez! How about reading?

Yeah, my tablet hit my face while reading about… sin.

And no, I’m not talking about the Bible. I don’t look to any faith to make me a better man.

You know, the men I look to as role models. Any guy that’s buried… not in the dirt, but let’s say, in something pretty has my vote. And no, I’m not talking about the hush money payments guy. Why can’t I be Eddie Hill? Or Ethan from Bikini Nights. Review:

Bikini Nights For Papa Bear:

Bikini Nights has issues. Mommy, Daddy, and Five Star. Shall I go on? I can say this. I’m anxiously awaiting the next book, Bikini Dawn. Michael Dalton hit a homerun. Or that was Papa Bear Ethan with Olivia and Lexie. I can’t get enough of these three. And even when they’re not in the throes of passion. Their every day. However, my favorite parts are those moments of love… But you also have Maddie and the drama fest that she has to go through. Is it strange that I want Maddie to find someone like her dear Daddy? Ha-Ha! I’d buy a few copies for friends if this book had a soft cover. But I’ll still share with, ahem, EVERYONE!

Are you still there, my lady, after me being a fanboy. Because? Being something better. Manly? Because Unconditional love is for women, children, and dogs. You see any women here, Sophia. Besides you, of course. Two-legged kids? I need a woman. And Virgil is here.

Being his Dad? I miss Braxton. Parenting B’s and V’s

1209 Days Without B III, Day 650 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 324 ~Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation~

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I ask for my Braxton back. I ask not to regret breathing. And to not be a blogger. But I sit in bed messing up the words because I have a Day Job. So, I’m blogging instead of writing. I promised B, but… Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation

Monday, May 20, 2024

Tale 324 ~Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But not this one. Well, not unless I’m not here anymore. And how I HOPE for that.

Another week feels like an eternity. It’s Sunday, May 12, 2024. Another tear? Another breath.

Have I forgotten where I am and what I’m doing? If this is the First Circle, Limbo. Then, I could see no better punishment for a writer. If only that were my greatest sin, Madam.

Nowadays, I drift between what I did to my son, Braxton. Then there’s my father. Blogging away about those two extremes when it is still Mother’s Day. I know, Madam.

But if I stopped writing, I would honor women, specifically my mother. Honoring my father would mean keeping my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. So I’m stupid. And to honor my son, I would join him. Only he has a story. People should read it.

And so every day, whether I want to or not, I wake up, whittle away time, and write. It’s more like I cry out for him, Braxton, B III! I argue about balls. And then I blog away. This is my way of keeping him alive. Or, so I thought.

So, how long have I been doing that? How long has this blog existed? Oh! Please understand, Madam. I’m not begging anyone to look at this “work” anymore. I don’t. Only these words in Sister Act 2 have stuck with me: “If when you wake up in the morning. you can think of nothing but writing…then you’re a writer.” Now, when I wake up, there’s Braxton first. Then, the question of why I’m breathing. And then there’s this blog. Daring to call myself a writer…

That’s like calling myself a reviewer. This leads me to where this rule came from. It’s from the movie Contagion. “Blogging is not writing. It’s graffiti with punctuation.” But my writing is simply a mess. The Mess! Madam Justice, I’ll get into all sorts of movies at this rate. But I’m not here for that. And since I won’t edit my novels for Braxton, Madam.

What is it I’m doing? Right now, I’m hoping the DISH Network people come through so I won’t have to keep writing about being a fool and my father. Forgive me for my whining, dear Madam. Yet my words have done far worse, haven’t they? Up against the wall, on Mother’s Day. I’m not writing. Blogging Is Graffiti With Punctuation.

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

1205 Days Without B III, Day 646 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 321 ~Happy To B Virgil~

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I do like a book that has Happily Ever After. So I’m a bit ashamed I haven’t been reading about fur buddy memorials. My son Braxton and I didn’t get Happily Ever After. So buy more books… I’m keeping Virgil healthy, if not happy. “Happy To B Virgil.”

Friday, May 17, 2024

Tale 321 ~Happy To B Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or should I buy you one? You should stay away from the search bar and finances.

There is no happiness to be found in such places. It’s a constant battle between keeping Virgil and myself healthy. I see a bit of Hilarity in continuing existence. And then there’s my hor… me being “amorous,” always. But happiness? It’s like a mirage, always just out of reach. People keep asking me for happy… anything, and I wish I could give it to them.

Sophia, I continued reading Michael Dalton’s novel this morning, and a particular quote hit me: “I’m happy if you’re happy.” Since everything leads back to my son Braxton, I ask…

B III, are you happy?

I remember so much about Braxton. I can still feel the warmth of Braxton’s last day on this Earth. I sat at the vet’s office, saw the look in B’s eyes, and heard what he was trying to say in his last moments. His thoughts still echo in my mind:

“Daddy, can’t we go home? I’m ok. I promise. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Now Virgil is not happy.

Ok, sticking with Michael Dalton’s work, I’ll give you a few more choice words, Sophia: “If I have to live with it, then I will.” I should have made that into a rule, Lady Sophia.

That’s Virgil and I’s relationship. What is love? Love and Happiness. I told Braxton yesterday that the vet said that Virgil will live. But liking him? Virgil and his happiness.

Sophia, that’s what makes me a bad person. I don’t even try to read on the couch with him anymore. And yes, I’d include having problems with DISH Network, Sophia.

Honestly, my father isn’t too happy with me. But do you think I’m going to call him again today? I can’t find happiness inside me—only fear and book reviews…

9 Matches For Backyard Dungeon:

Well, Eddie is approaching seven wives. But with all the potential matches and hookups. I’ll give this 9th book in the series 4 Stars again. It’s great fun between the fighting, flushing out of the world, and again with all the romantic partners; there is plenty of… Uh, ahem, frolicking. I know I’ve said that before. Only with this title, my favorite part was Eddie playing matchmaker. He’s got babies, business, and he’s a bro. A particular type of bro, for sure. So, I tend to keep Logan Jacob’s books to myself. But to a specific clientele. Eddie Hill’s great.

What about my books or anything I would like to read? It won’t be happy, but… Happy To B Virgil

1202 Days Without B III, Day 643 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 317 ~The Survivors Will Write History~

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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 314 ~B Powerful Virgil, Or…~

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“Get locked up; they read books to pass the time.” Or write them. And in the middle are book reviews because what else am I doing? I’m not locked up. I just stay “home” with the storms and DISH Network being out. Such is Power. B Powerful Virgil, Or…

Friday, May 10, 2024

Tale 314 ~B Powerful Virgil, Or…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… And no, it’s not about a big, brave dog. Braxton’s gone. And Virgil? Thou Art Courageous…

NOT!!! But to be wise, seek out wisdom, and be WOKE, as THEY say these days, is scary. Only I need a reason to wake up at all. And for that, Sophia, I will give you four words: “So then what happened?” So, Lady Sophia, I read stories of bravery and pretty women, Big Uns.

So, nothing about Braxton anymore? Not even yesterday, after I finished two more blog posts. I did work on some of “my” poetry book, “GULP.” Writing is a superpower… Ha!

Saving Braxton was not. But I can’t help but think that if I weren’t at the Day Job—more to the point, if I wasn’t enraged there—I wouldn’t have been indifferent towards Braxton. And he’d be alive instead of…

Well? A story—two stories, to be precise. They are still sitting here as I read about everything and nothing. Francis Bacon said, “Knowledge Is Power.” George Orwell warned that “Ignorance Is Strength.” But again, what have I been reading? Another novel from Logan Jacobs. According to “my” last saved quotes—dare I say, I’m gaining something like a brain?

Even if I was, how many wise people could you say have any sort of power? And that is what I want. But this week has been a show of my lack of power. Because I haven’t been watching anything on DISH Network, have I? The absence of power in my existence, Lady Sophia. And yet I dote on words.

A “Backyard Dungeon 8” Review.

I don’t “8” Backyard Dungeon:

Three stars for family, fighting, and another word starting with F. Four stars for fun. And five wives? Yes, I liked it. But love. This is the eighth book in the series, but it’s still not there. It reads like a demonic sitcom with some softcore mixed in. Nice! My favorite part. Being somewhat a romantic. I liked the first wife getting her day. And Eddie and the boys. The fighting and other things… Bonus. But while I can let some things in this book slide… Uh, Nictors? And even Scourge. I keep this good ole’ boy romp from friends.

Weirdly, I can be negative about someone else with power. Yet I have none. Virgil doesn’t. B Powerful Virgil, Or…

1195 Days Without B III, Day 636 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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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 307 ~Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil~

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So, one star this is awfully sad. Five stars, I’m pretty darn happy. I’m never happy, but I tried not to cry about Braxton. Star Wars Day should be celebrated. Tomorrow. And B’s Aunt’s Birthday. And any Bikini Days. Ha! Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil

Friday, May 3, 2024

Tale 307 ~Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… —not another sad one about Braxton? I make no promises, but I will try. Then there’s the book Bikini Days. Hmm.

Today, my lady, I am ready for a book review. And yet, I’ve been moved by Billy Bob Thornton’s eloquent expression of grief over his brother’s passing. His words resonate with my own feelings of loss, particularly the loss of my son, Braxton. I promise, my lady, this won’t be another sad story about Braxton, but the pain is real.

Apparently, so are the words of specific types of men. I know what I want to say, but the critic might cite me as “diverse.” And now that I think about it. I don’t know what Logan Jacobs or Eric Vall look like. But Michael Dalton and George Lucas? My, My, my Lady. Do I have biases of my own? I’m only thinking about the books I’m reading. Indeed, the cover art says plenty. But…

Today and tomorrow will be all about a story told by George Lucas. Yes, my lady, tomorrow is Star Wars Day! And it’s also B’s Aunt’s Birthday! I’m considering sending her a thoughtful gift to celebrate the occasion. Again, trying…

But I was “trying” to read over the financial books this morning, so I don’t know. Do or Do Not, right, Sophia? But I’ve always been one for the Dark Side of the Force. Selfish?

Or am I a thief? Could I be just saving myself? I look to “The Hero’s Journey.” Many writers have used this formula for their stories. Only Sophia, I’ve never used it. I’m no hero.

Writing has been much different for me. Not to brag, but my work is more salacious and sadder. And then there’s my son’s story. So?

Today, Michael Dalton’s “Bikini Days.”

“Heart” On for Bikini Days

Five Stars? Or ten stars for both Lexie and Maddie? How about twenty? This is a fantastic story. Takes me back to my youth. Did I say that out loud? Anyway, it reminds me of those late nights when I was watching HBO, Showtime, and Cinemax. But with much more heart… What got me besides the need to keep turning pages… How will Maddie deal? The teasing of Olivia and Lexie. And, of course, the “daddy issues” angle. I could recommend this to just one of my friends. But with the people I know? I’ll keep this close to the chest or some other places.

So, a decent chat… Sophia. Not the story of my existence… Braxton BOOKS Tradition Virgil.

1188 Days Without B III, Day 629 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 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

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My 300th entry in how many years of writing? I’ll have successfully failed to publish a mainstream book in a few months. Ha. B never cried waiting for me. Wherever he is, I hope he’s not. Meanwhile, V’s waiting. For what? “Author B, Virgil’s Crying.”

Friday, April 26, 2024

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… How did I keep Virgil alive? I wish I could write about how I kept Braxton alive. Not even in fiction.

I’m going to try and stop being mean, Lady Sophia. But considering we are talking on Sunday… I’ve had no time to listen to Master Yoda. And it was a week like this that ended my Braxton. Do I need to tell you the story of what happened to Braxton?

Euthanasia is a bad word, despite how it is defined. But if I had a choice to follow my firstborn son. Well, what would happen to 2V? I wouldn’t end up signing papers for him.

I mean to lose him instead of gain him. But speaking of gain, how about some new books, if the paycheck allows? What is reading doing for me? Between Lena Little, Michael Dalton, and Eric Vall, there are also movies…

I told the Man in the Mirror I had no time for films. But I’m still caught up in the movie “Civil War.” And how many times have I watched the movie “Share?” It’s my new repeated film. Remember, I lost myself to “The Mill.”

At least when I sit in the Den or go to the movies. I’m not hearing Virgil’s bellyaching about me. Again, being a meanie. The Day Job shouldn’t be an excuse. I will never forget what happened to my little boy. And just because I finished my book for the week today, “Possessive Stepbrother.” And I want to get a good jump on “Bikini Days…”

But with all the social media I absorbed, there is plenty to read about fallen fur kids. Kidney failure sucks more than my writing, Sophia.

And yet whenever I go to write… Sometimes, Sophia, I get the same feeling as when I head to the Day Job. But at least sitting here. Where? Is it in bed? The tray in the Den? The Dining Room? With all the stories I wrote right there. Braxton could still have a story. Two.

I would instead read about “relations” and then go back to hating myself without fail.

Why? Because I have to work weeks like this. Because I’m to exist and embrace… what, my vision? And I can’t help but be jealous when I see everyone else’s name in the written word. I admit, even Cherry. She’s 26, and I’m nearly 40, working a Day Job, Sophia.

Writing! Author B, Virgil’s Crying.

1181 Days Without B III, Day 622 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will