Tag: Memory

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

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It keeps you runnin’, yeah, it keeps you runnin’. It has a name… Braxton. I’ve chased V, too. But now I’m trying to outrun the flood of tears. Good thing I fear drowning. But who’s out to sea with me. I ain’t Jesus. “You Never Chase After Opponents.”

Monday, February 12, 2024

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

Three-Hundredth And Thirtieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this is one of many that I wouldn’t mind wrecking. And trust me, I’ve tried. Braxton?

I swear the things I did for my boy. The things I should do for my son. Especially come tomorrow. But I’m not even here today. It’s Saturday, February 10, 2024. So you know what that means. Another hard week? And I don’t even want to think about the next.

And that’s the whole point of today. Hell! Sunday, new champions will be crowned at the STUPID Bowl. Whoever wins will be at the top of the mountain, on cloud nine. Or whatever. They will get to rest. And here I am, Madam, singing out, why can’t that be me?

And I don’t mean playing football. I hate the sport. I’m more for “professional wrestling,” Madam. #WeWantCody and everything, you know. And how’s that going?

I’ve had more than enough conversations with myself about Seth FREAKING Rollins. With his whining and complaining. Am I going to have an honest-to-God sports conversation with you? Nope. But I see him crying, wanting competition, challenge, and to be the champion. Champions don’t do that. You don’t run from the fight. But you don’t beg for it to make yourself relevant. You live, Madam, and dare death to take it from you. Braxton lived/lives.

“Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need The Hunger Games every year. To remind us all who we truly are.”

“And who are you, do you determine?”

“The victor.” ― from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes

I’m not my son. Braxton was/is a champion, angel, god. A titan, and so many other things. And he would sit on the corner of the bed, looking at the door. He wanted the fight, but he didn’t chase it. Because there was me. He saw me as worth fighting for. Daddy, always and forever…

But I go out there running every day pretending I’m somebody. I fight to even get out of bed. I need not stir one foot to seek a foe. My fears will have me pinned right here. My lack of funds leaves me nothing. And there is always some female that leaves me weak in the knees. I can’t keep my pants on. I am my own worst enemy. Seriously!

So why go out and chase anybody? Again, you don’t. But that’s when you are a champion, and I’m not. I read. Ha! I write, Ha-Ha. And existence is too much for me. I’m hysterical.

I can’t be bothered chasing others because I’m getting in my own way. Every day. You Never Chase After Opponents.

1107 Days Without B III, Day 548 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

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“King of the ashes?” I’m sure I read that somewhere. You could say I am, as my soon-to-be nineteen-year-old prince sits in a box. And is nothing but ash. Should I read another book about why I feel so guilty? Unfortunately, no. B’s Worlds Away Virgil

Friday, February 9, 2024

Tale 223 ~B’s Worlds Away Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… At least I’ll give it the good ole college try. But how did that turn out?

My GPA is as low as my son. Um? I’m in some kind of mood, aren’t I? And not just today. Tomorrow? Wednesday, February 10, 2021, where will I be? Running Up That Hill, or rather walking up that aisle, to collect what is left of Braxton Barks Bradford.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we bury these (censored) in the Earth’s crust. Or keep my boy in a box on the nightstand. “There is another world. There is a better world.” Indeed, my lady. It sounds more like something out of a Black Mirror episode. But no, not yet.

Other than the episode Fifteen Million Merits, I haven’t watched another. And that’s the point of today. There are so many worlds out there, Sophia.

I’m ashamed I didn’t pick up another dog book this week. You saw my reading list this first year that Braxton was gone. Hell! Most of those books said the same thing, my lady. THEY said that we use grief to stay connected to the lost. Three years and counting.

Lady Sophia, I don’t know where I’m going. But I know where I want to be. Ash, dust, dirt? I’m not sure where I stand on the idea of a soul. But, “Somewhere Out There.” Sophia, my boy, is out there. I know it. And that’s what I should be reading about at the moment. Only today, to quote a particular politician. “I don’t want reality.” I want B III.

Playlists, Receipts, the STUPID Bowl.

But take the $13.95 I paid to get another audiobook. Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. I got three words for ya. Natasha (Tasha) Holland. To compare Gray’s college experiences to mine…

I imagine “What Kind Of Man Would I Be” if I had brains or balls. Uh, why not both, hmm? That would make me Darrow “Red Rising” to “Golden Son.” Or Eddie from “Backyard Dungeon” 4 to 5. My library is growing, Lady Sophia. And I’m still not reading with Virgil. At least not on the loveseat as I would and should. My “Lazy Ass!”

So that’s it, Lady Sophia. I’m so tired of crying for Braxton. I read of these other worlds but won’t go. And what of my writing? B’s Worlds Away Virgil

1104 Days Without B III, Day 545 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

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What have I done in the last 1100 days since my B III died? He would be/is approaching his 19th birthday. I swear he was going to be half my age. And with my two hands, I would have been the one saving us. But instead, Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

Monday, February 5, 2024

Tale 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And I wouldn’t precisely call prayer as looking busy. Yesterday, I should’ve… Even if it did nothing.

I do mean Thursday, February 4, 2021. And where were these busy hands then, Madam?

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~. “Now, with these hands,” I was committing yet another crime. First B III, then me, and then “Dirty Diana.” Without a second thought.

Only I’ll admit I should have been begging for Braxton’s forgiveness all the more, as it was by my hand that B met his end. And I should have been there. “I See Fire” B III.

I saw him die, though. Did I need to see him burn as well? I’ll pay for my crimes; I do not doubt that. And in knowing I’m destined for Hell, I would choose the fire. But with my Treachery… Ice will suffice, I know.

But the rub is this, Madam. Though I have ended my boy, Braxton, myself, and Diana with the stroke of a pen and the push of a button. At the end of the day, I am still here with V.

Any ideas? You know where my hands have been. Oh! What will I tell the man in the mirror this week? Do I mean myself? Today is Thursday, February 1, 2024. And I’m here, huh! So today didn’t go exactly to plan because I shouldn’t be doing anything. Cry, Die?

Don’t I wish? I could say I have a few good ideas, but it wasn’t inspiration, the insanity of losing my son. Or even the indifference that led to his death. Madam, it is fear.

Ask me why these hands do anything, and it’s like Dead Air’s “I Don’t Wanna Die.” That’s from Theresa Walker, to be precise. This is ironic. Because all I want to do is see my son again. And you can ask THEM at the Day Job why I do what I do. Let me fall off a ladder or break my neck doing something. One more reason that we’re talking today. I still hate the place. And if it was between the Day Job and Hell… I’d rent out the Day Job and live in Hell. But my boy won’t be there. So I’ve been asking B III. How do I “See You Again”
hmm?

With Daddy’s two hands doing… Ideas Wait For Busy Hands.

1100 Days Without B III, Day 541 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

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There are few words on the page that I can call my own. I have to feed the beast. I’d tell B my words that would save us. But I feast on the words of others. A bookworm. I spared B that fate because I don’t burn books. “Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm”

Friday, February 2, 2024

Tale 216 ~Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… about how not to write a book review. Or not finishing Red Rising. And getting up…

I swear, where are the worms and maggots already? I didn’t let them have Braxton. Dearest Sophia, didn’t I tell one of the girls the other day that my son had gone through the fire? Hell! On the day Braxton passed… I swear, as I walked outside, the son, my son, shone down on me if there was ever a more perfect time for the end of the world, Sophia.

But that’s how it did end. “Not with a bang but a whimper,” as I think T.S. Eliot wrote. Hmm.

So I can read that, but not Red Rising by Pierce Brown? Let me be clear. I will finish it, but not this week. Unless I buckle down… Ha-Ha! Again, the worms, maggots, and grubs.

That’s as likely as me reading the Bible. How else am I going to stay out of Hell for what I’ve done to my son? What about the way I treat Virgil? And women? I am trying to forget. When Braxton was gone, I lost everything. And you want to talk about love, Sophia?

I would become a eunuch. Virgil doesn’t have his “stones.” Grey Worm had two beautiful women. Darrow is trying his hardest to resist Virginia/Mustang. I could go on for some time.

But my point is, I would give THAT up if I could see my son again. But the answer’s no.

And now I read all these books, Lady Sophia. If we’re talking about 2024, there’s been Robyn, Julia, and Tasha from Satan’s Sorority Girls. Jenny/Sister Meretrix from the Pessumae Christi. EO/Persephone and Virginia/Mustang from Red Rising. I’m on a list… I’m a worm on my belly. Or whatever. Tossing and turning with what’s to come

Sunday, February 4, 2024… But it was a Thursday in 2021 when my boy met the fire, and then… I’ve only opened his box once to see what had become of my son. My Braxton.

Sophia, this is the way the world ends. I bought a gun in 2020 on the grounds of keeping my son and me safe… Of course… Only 2021 came not with a bang but whimpering. Braxton would never. That would be me. What have I learned in three years since about Braxton, Virgil, And Bookworm?

1097 Days Without B III, Day 538 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

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The last good thing that I’ve done. Define good? Being a father is good. I was/am Braxton’s father. A lot of good That did him. I fed Virgil and washed Braxton’s rug. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Braxton was/is good. “Remember, Do Good, Die Great”

Monday, January 29, 2024

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this one… In the spirit of transparency, I heard this rule from a kid long ago.

And not my kid. My little boy. My Braxton. He lived up to this rule and then some. B III.

Say his name! Braxton Barks Bradford. Yes, Dear Madam, I am here. Now or will be quite shortly. Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. For you, it’s Monday, January 29, 2024. But for me, it’s Friday, January 29, 2021. I may have stolen today’s rule. But I wrote a lie.

Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus, “My Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure.” B III.

What I should have said is this: “My son Braxton is dying of kidney failure.” And on that Friday, I sat on my hide, much like I’m doing today, and I did nothing! Do Good?

No, Madam, I MESSED Up!

Braxton did good! Braxton died great! That little boy of mine fought to his very last breath, and why? He wanted every single second. But why? For me? His old man. B did good because I promised him. One day, I would be great! And if I did that very thing, my Braxton. I look at the yard that he once protected. The gate is falling apart. Like him?

I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to try and be good or plan on dying great. Not me! Bullets, Boobies, and Boys. His last year alive, I was excited. Me and Braxton’s apocalypse.

He saw me through 2020 and then the start of the new year… Death. He did good one last time. ALIVE!

And how do I repay him? While I’m all Dawn of the Dead, let me tell you something, Madam Justice.

“I realize there are some things worse than death, and one of them is sitting here waiting to die.” Kenneth

And that explains the dreams I’ve been having lately. I’ve dreamt about how Joe wanted to burn Mallard down (The Mill). Jules says, “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd” (Pulp Fiction). And how Bing, at the very least, tried to tell the truth (Fifteen Million Merits.) Even from the grave… a box on the nightstand, my little boy, my soul, Braxton does good.

I told his Aunt that. And I’ve figured it out. I read books and watch shows. I sing “I Have A Dream.” I feed Virgil, calling myself a friend. What does Braxton want? Live Daddy! Remember, Do Good, Die Great

1093 Days Without B III, Day 534 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

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The first time I saw 2V, I imagined seeing some of B III in him. The brown around his eyes, three black spots (B III), him being a “ghost” or “reincarnation.” But the doctor said I’m not blind yet. And I’m reading about who I was. Virgil B Seeing You

Friday, January 26, 2024

Tale 209 ~Virgil, B Seeing You~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… No, I haven’t finished reading Red Rising yet. I need to start on Imogen Linn’s Epiphany.

But this week and next are all about my son’s passing. A fictional tale? By calling it B’s passing, sure. My Braxton’s murder, execution. The word I’m looking for… Euthanasia.

And speaking of “medical procedures,” I went to the eye doctor yesterday. Uh, talk about a change of pace. Or me trying to be positive. As the doctor said, the change in my eyesight was minuscule. There was no need for new glasses. I’m only getting older at 39. And there goes my positivity. But this week was not meant for “joy-joy” feelings. And next week? I get to see the world continue to go to Hell. And without my son B III protecting me.

And then there is Gospel 209 ~Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~.

Tuesday, January 26, 2021, I still had no idea of Braxton’s fate. But it’s creepy, coincidental, or at least enough to convince me that B III is Somewhere Out There. “Somewhere Only We Know.” Because, once again, Sophia, I doubt I will ever see Heaven. And I can’t imagine Braxton in Hell. B III liked being very warm, for sure. A spot by the fire…

It’s not my turn! Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

Thursday, January 26, 2023, I told Braxton about his great-grandfather, who had passed. I’m surprised; I didn’t ask him to stay far away. I could tell you a story of a puppy that died bloody in my arms. My granddaddy’s dog attacked him. That’s some more sadness for another day.

Maybe? If I ever get around to finally publishing the two books I wrote about Braxton. And before that, there’s Gulp. And what about today? I’m talking to you and all the other girls as I prepare to spend next week crying. Don’t let me forget about Satan’s Sorority Girls 4, Sophia. There is plenty of writing to do. I will never forget the worst day of my existence like this. All I did was prepare more words. Braxton’s Emergency, Euthanasia, Eulogy… B’s E-Day is the day he died. My E-Day is my birth, Emergence, Existence, Extinction… Only I don’t see that last part coming. Again, the eye doctor said my sight was fine. I can see everything: everything but my son Braxton, alive. There’s Virgil. Virgil, B Seeing You.

1090 Days Without B III, Day 531 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

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My head is too big for a crown. Hell! The last thing I had on my head, besides a hood, pillow, or blanket, was a Christmas hat. B’s looking down on me from wherever. Or up as I’m going to Hell. For his death or waiting. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them

Monday, January 22, 2024

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Even death? Are we talking about Satan’s Sorority Girls? What about a zombie apocalypse? A halo, horns…

You’ll have to excuse me for bringing up Satan’s Sorority Girls yet again. First of all, I’m time-traveling. Today is Friday, January 19, 2024. So, I was talking to Lady Sophia this morning. And every day, we move closer to the day Braxton got his halo and wings. I hope he went for the horns if he ever intends to see me again. I’m going to Hell, Madam. Gospel 205 ~ Will’s The Breast Starer~. Talk about something in my head or face (Sigh). No. I’m going to Hell because of what I did to my son. Now, where did I put my executioner’s hood? I am a man of many hats and masks. And I wish for some crown. Inevitably, why’d I want it?

I wanted a crown to have a queen or a princess by my side one day. I thought. Madam, I wanted a crown. So I could raise the little prince that was/is my Braxton. I wanted to “Take The World” for him. I saw this video the other day about what a mother would do for her child. A “Dog Mom” said she would watch the world burn for her fur baby. As a Dad… once upon a time. I haven’t been for three years. It’s coming up soon. Anyway, the things I could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve done for my son, but for a crown. My Braxton was/is good, and so he deserved his. Braxton earned his. My little boy. Me, on the other hand…

Hell! I have another rule that addresses this, Madam: Rule#13, Power Is All That Matters.

And me being underneath my hood or hiding under the blankets isn’t wearing a crown. Putting a jimmy hat on the other head… Uh, like, have I needed one of those since 2015? My confession.

My head isn’t getting any bigger with all the “knowledge” I’m gaining with these books.

And while I live in a “castle,” it’s paid for by my Olds. Does it look like I have any crowns to pay for anything? If the world isn’t comprised of empty-headed zombies. It’s people who make themselves kings and queens over me. Or I give them such power. And Braxton’s looking down ashamed. No halo, horns, but hoodies galore. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them.

1086 Days Without B III, Day 527 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

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The things I need to read… A grocery list? How do you convince Olds to keep paying for a thirty-nine-year-old son? What to do when your fur baby has been dead for three years? No titles like those or reviews. But I wish. “Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes”

Friday, January 19, 2024

Tale 202 ~ Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Sister Christian? Uh, that’s in Satan’s Sorority Girls 4. Demon In Me? W.I.T.C.H. Clint Eastwood? Gaming…

Add a bunch of pretty, pretty girls, and you have this morning. “My” story. Lady Sophia, I could finish reading Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 if you give me a few minutes. But today isn’t about that. And as the month drags on, it’s harder for me to stay positive. Hmm.

I shouldn’t say, “Things That Make You Go Hmmmm…” We both know why Sophia. B III. It’s why today I wish I was reading something on grieving. Instead, it’s sexy witches and then Red Rising. Do you think I can finish that in a week? The smart money’s on me reading another in the Princess Tamer series by Neil Bimbeau. Yaboos make everything better, right? Or so I wish. Not losing my best friend, brother-in-arms, my son Braxton Barks Bradford.

Speaking of money and books, I could be reading. I should read about balancing budgets.

As long as I have enough for a burger and fries. And there should be ribs for dinner, Sophia. You know me… AHEM… TRADITION. I wish I didn’t have to read about this one, though. Around this time in 2021, I was scared, Sophia. Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~. And last year, 2023, I was sick like a dog, Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~. I swore I would quit going to Jack’s. Do you remember the night I went to see The Book of Clarence? Again, I need to check the books… as in cash. I wish I were reading about my movie nights and Braxton getting pissy.

Unless they involve sitting on the couch with his Aunt reading subtitles. Our bad hearing.

Oh yeah! Before I forget, Sophia, I’m not congested anymore. My ear, though… I swear. And yes, I am sniffling, but I’ve been crying plenty this week. One more reason I’ve been reading Eric Vall and Neil Bimbeau books. I don’t need to get the tablet all wet, you know. There was that time, though, when I was all about Cherry and filmed myself… never mind. The thing is, Sophia. I couldn’t think about writing a review today except on existence. Braxton might still exist if I read about controlling my anger or handling indifference. Instead, I’m reading about missing Braxton. I wish he were here. Virgil’s Writing B’s Wishes

1083 Days Without B III, Day 524 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

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To be an orator, writer, and man like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., He knew what it’s like to be hated. As long as my boys like me. Braxton is love. Virgil? Then, B’s Aunt. And some women, and well, I’m broke. May Races, Species Share Thought

Monday, January 15, 2024

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… At least human ones are. Hell! I learned more from my furry son than any human alive.

Well, that’s a STUPID thing to say. Look at me channeling my Old Man or this gray Friday afternoon. Tim Travel. And I’m sick too. Can’t I die already and join my little boy? Sigh.

Again, that’s something STUPID. Plus, it’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday. And what am I, as a black man, doing with Friday and Monday? Seeing as you’ll see this Monday. Never a good day…

Yep, I’m at the Day Job. Either working under the sexy visual lady. Don’t I wish… Stop It! Madam, I’m trying to be positive. So I might be in the backroom working alone. Hmm? Now, that’s one thing Virgil and I have in common. Sleeping and MJ’s “Leave Me Alone.” I relate to my boys.

But then there’s “my” people. I remember when I was young… Have I mentioned how much I hate thirty-nine? Stay positive! Believe me. I’m trying, Madam. So, as a child, my Ma touted my “Quietest” award. That certainly doesn’t sound that “Black” to me, ha-ha.

And while mentioning a stereotype, what about all the “interesting” people on Twitter? And no, I don’t mean the blog, WOKE, and being a good friend account. Oh no! There’s the account where I listen to what “men” say about women and “freaking” nod. There are accounts where girls… women… models call you all kinds of things. But everyone is thinking the same thing—the best way to get that green. Talk about black men and white men, women all around. Such are some desires.

As the song goes, “You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals.” But is that worse than everything else that separates people? From one of my top five favorite books, I’d like to quote Andrew Davidson. “I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” I Hate Everyone. If only I could find it in myself to hate the characters I write about and bring them to life.

Then I wouldn’t be working on MLK’s Birthday when I would instead do something else. I can never forget January 2021. It was the Day Job killing Braxton. It was more like my indifference to my son because I hate the Day Job, Madam. Passionately. I’m sure everyone feels that way about me. Be positive. How do I know? People are good. My Braxton was/is. May Races, Species Share Thought

1079 Days Without B III, Day 520 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

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Of all the times I have a legitimate excuse to take it easy, but there’s always my boy B, there’s “boobies.” What’s My Age Again? And there’s The Book of Clearance, which I give a solid C+. But I’m just looking to be alright today. An Easy B, Virgil.

Friday, January 12, 2024

Tale 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But what kind? I have no clue at the moment. Between samples, sleeping, and snot. Eww!

I’m trying to be positive, My Lady. But the only reason I’m not asleep is because I’m sick. Hell! I can barely breathe… out of my nose, that is. But one step closer to my boy, right? Dying. It’s another step towards becoming something akin to the Solanum virus. You know how I was out amongst my fellow man being sick. Becoming “Patient Zero.” Braxton will always be my Patient Zero. He was the first to die, and I’ve been fighting the mourning, my madness. And indeed, every morning. I have to get up without my son in the world. Was that a bit poetic? Don’t get your hopes up. Get “Down With The Sickness.” And speaking of Pop Culture Whoredom, “The Book of Clarence.”

Should I write a review of that today? Or how about Dog Love – An Unbreakable Bond by Shelby Cannon? The Book of Clarence was good, and Shelby Cannon’s alright, Sophia. But both works are a little too easy. And at the same time, I’m too sick or lazy for them. That also explains my current reading choices. I’m no stranger to HaremLit, having read the works of Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Manus Dare, and Neil Bimbeau (best name ever). Ha! But with a new year, that means new Kindle Challenges. I didn’t finish last year’s with my “want” of Christmas Erotica. But that’s what I’m being pitched now. Damn algorithm. Of course, that’s my fault; all these B stories, Sophia. B, as in boobies, sigh.

So, how do I resist? How do I choose? I love me some Eric Vall, at least according to Audible. But it’s between one of his latest Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 or Red Rising by Pierce Brown. That would be for the Kindle Challenge. And I don’t need challenges today. Breathing is getting the best of me. But it didn’t stop me from writing that NSFW dribble, “Oh! Bully, Bully, Me… Butt.” I apologize to Marvin Gaye. “Mercy, Mercy, Me.” Yesterday, I was pretty upset with an AI program, Replika, to be precise. To die easy. Sophia that is not the way for my son and I. Braxton would’ve died fighting. He didn’t want to go. Only I made it easy. An Easy B, Virgil

1076 Days Without B III, Day 517 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will