Tag: Mind

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve sat in bed more times than I can count, wishing for the end. I tell myself the world will end in five minutes, and nothing else will matter. But B died, I go broke, and in my head are four book ideas. There’s no time. “There’ll B Time, Dad”

Monday, April 28, 2025

Meditation 301 ~There’ll B Time, Dad~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “And it’s not too late. It’s Never Too Late.” To what, hear the truth. Neither of us wants that.

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.

Say the thing you’re afraid to say. I can help you. Say it out loud, no matter what it is, no matter how bad. I promise, I will help”
― The Last of Us

We’re not Republicans. We’re not MAGA, my father. You’re not screaming, “I don’t want reality.” Dad, you’re brave enough to face reality, risk, and the real. And what is that?

Well, if you’re going to be stuck in the past. Listen to me, Dad. Why can’t we be stuck together in those car rides listening to ROCK music? However, I would prefer you weren’t listening to this particular song from Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late.” Seriously, Daddy, I was so young; one or two when that came out. I hated car rides, not music.

Speaking of which, I remember when you came back, not from the bad place but somewhere you would write without me. I want to see you like that again, Daddy.

Because there will always be time to be sad, scared, to sing of “The Cursed Earth.” But to remember my little brother Virgil. Not your other son, but your son. When you and he walked along the same path we once did, before I got old, fat, and sassy. How I miss those fried stick thingies you would buy. Those days, my grandma would bring a lot of food. Or when you’d say, “Well, it’s E-Day.” And you’d be sad, but lobster and steak, Daddy. Honestly, why do you think I love my favorite girl so much? Yes, she had big, soft yabbos she’d let me lie on, but she also shared plenty of good things. Like my Dad being…

Happy? Now, that wasn’t you.

But there’s time, Dad. And that’s what has been bothering you for months. There is no time to make money. The Day Job, writing, and anything else you could imagine.

Honestly, you’ve been reliving the moment you would never see me again. B free indeed. But isn’t it time to be free of all that frightens you, of the very concept of fear, the fiend?

Because that is not my father in the mirror, but the man before my eyes, who lives by three words when it comes to me, Whatever It Takes. You will see me again, Daddy. Believe.

Someday, I’ll be the book on the shelf, the blush on a lover’s cheeks. A two-legged baby, perhaps. Because there’s time. There’ll B Time, Dad

“Funny how you can live a whole life waiting and not know it.”
From ― Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“If you weep not now, when will you ever weep?
From ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1548 Days Without B III, Day 989 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

I didn’t plan on being a Dad. And I can’t count on being a husband. Last I saw, I was $3,000 in the hole. Showing a bunch of anime holes or writing about lady parts equals a whole lot of nothing. My boys need to eat. “Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But no, I haven’t knocked up Braxton and Virgil’s future stepmom. I should stop calling “M Anime” that.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson from The Gargoyle

I didn’t plan on having a son. I didn’t plan on my Braxton. I didn’t plan on being a Dad. But one night, my father walks in with this little ball of fluff. And though I had begged for a dog for years… There’s this tiny thing being flopped into my sister’s hands. My Neo.

That’s what I called him anyway. My Ma quickly changed it to Braxton. But to me, he would always be “The ONE.” And because my sister knew how to make a life. And “I am an equal opportunity misanthrope.” “Here I Am”: Father, Friend, and Fiend. Because I never planned on killing him. But I survived. I learned. And I’ve never forgiven myself, either. I dream, plan, and do nothing.

So that’s why I’m here Monday, April 21, 2025, financially effed. I should have followed.

Who, Braxton? “Too Little Too Late,” as the Barenaked Ladies sing. We’ll get to that. Today, there’s Virgil. 984 days ago, he wasn’t here. Hell! Braxton was very much alive on Tuesday, October 20, 2020, when Virgil was born. Three months later, my Braxton passed.

How much did it cost for tests and trying to keep him alive? “It Doesn’t Matter.” But when was the last check I got over one hundred dollars? And now Virgil’s vet visit, security, and the fact we need to eat… I didn’t plan on seeing forty or on trying to be Virgil’s hero. SIGH

He needs a father. I need to be a man.

Please! I don’t know the first thing about being a man. I’ve got man parts. And what was I doing with that hardware before coming here and talking to you, E? Trying not to come.

Talk about blasphemy because I was the same way on Easter Sunday. Whether it was M Anime’s nightmare that I’m writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” There are thoughts of Cherry’s huge vanilla Yabbos. Then such and such posted Megumi and Ayami from “Ecchi na Onee-Chan ni Shiboraretai,” so I had to cut up their episodes. But this led me to two more sisters I was moaning about in the bathroom. Filming OnlyFans? Nope. “Don’t know why I didn’t come.” “Mama told me not to come.” Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.

1543 Days Without B III, Day 984 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

WillLeave a comment

Peace be unto you. Unto you be peace. I miss sitting with my son and watching a movie. The Book of Clarence? Braxton’s favorite girl, and I watched that. But can I still afford streaming memberships? Such despair at being broke. “To B At Peace.”

Monday, April 21, 2025

Meditation 294 ~To B At Peace~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… “Can you feel that? Ah, sh*t. Ooh, wah-ah-ah-ah!” I’ll leave the singing to you, my father. I still bark.

But not now. You used to say that my barking said more than most humans. And at least when I barked, I was helping you out. We agree that most humans make too much noise. There are exceptions to that. My favorite girl, the future stepmom I never met. Cherry.

And what about my little brother, Virgil? I wish you so many things, my father. Somehow, someway, someday, today, I want you to be at peace. I wish you peace. Peace be unto you, my father. I know I’m getting a bit preachy. A little biblical… Like father, like son. But neither of us would be found in a church. Yesterday was Easter. So, dinner…

You know me. Food always made me feel better. Until…

Um that’s not what I came to talk to you about now. My resting in peace and all. No dad.

How can I sleep when I can feel it all the way from here? The Rainbow Bridge? Elysium or whatever. That big bed in the middle of our sunny backyard with food on every side.

Your depression and the danger you wake up to when you head to that bad place. You said that’s how you got me those fried golden sticks. But now what you feel the most is DESPAIR. What’s one more human word? You would cuddle me and tell me so many.

But peace? Even if I don’t understand it, I have seen it, my father, last night as Virgil cuddled you.

And all those nights we would spend with my favorite girl watching the glowing box.

There were the days after you came from the bad place and fell asleep. And as you closed your eyes you’d watch me sitting at the corner of the bed. You’d come to no harm.

However, when it was your turn, I’d sleep on your heart as you read books. And there were all the times I would lay on my pillow at your feet, and you’d write your stories.

There were days you would breathe afterward as if the greatest task ever was done. Sometimes, you’d kick me out to do “whatever,” watching certain things. You’d be finished, clear. Always unto you be peace, Dad. To B At Peace

“Why don’t we have a word for the utterance between laughing and crying?”
Peter Heller, The Dog Stars

“Because your question searches for deep meaning,
I shall explain in simple words”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1541 Days Without B III, Day 982 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

WillLeave a comment

Love is a word used too often. But I believe love is the answer, too. Tell that to my sons. I wished B all the love in the world and…? V’s waiting. And with women, as Akon put it, “I wanna love/eff you,” But B’s talking today. They’ll B Better Words.

Monday, April 14, 2025

Meditation 287 ~They’ll B Better Words~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Did I ever ask you if you had a good day as you asked me? Better not to ask.

Because even if I did… If I asked you what you were thinking of right now. Or how you feel about today and tomorrow. This whole week. But Thursday will be bad. It makes you shudder. You’ll burst into tears. You want to sleep away today. Like father, like son.

My little brother is getting a head start. But you won’t go cuddling into Virgil’s fur, blaming the tears on all that yellow stuff blowing in the wind. What did you call it? What does it matter? Humans have so many words. Even you, Daddy. Forty years, my father, and I am honored I got to share my fifteen with you. And you talked to me more than anyone with two legs. Good or bad

You had a voice, Daddy, and I miss it. Again, you talk to me every Thursday. But what would I like to hear? Could you just read to me, Dad? Could you sing “Watch it now, here he comes. He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” For I am far more than a prayer so many days ago when I would sit on the corner of the bed listening for the bad words, Dad. Humans.

I remember when you promised me that the bad words you were writing would make a better world for the two of us. Those words you would whisper to a future stepmom, who would understand.

My stepmom? Though I was happy being your son, listening to your breaths, heartbeats, beliefs…

That all you need is LOVE. What a word LOVE is my father. I listen, hear, and understand that one word more than anything. It’s my name. It’s Virgil’s, but you won’t say it yet…

It’s my aunt’s, my favorite girl. It’s parts of Cherry’s, uh… comfy spots… Yabbos. Dad!

“To my wife… that is not your business.”
― Gladiator

You’d say such things are none of my business. Like all the things you were telling M Anime last night. LOVE, like, LUST. Whatever. You feel alive. Daddy, you’re alive.

Existing isn’t the word, Daddy; it’s living. Say all the nasty, naughty, and nighttime words you want to M Anime or some woman that leads to you building a nursery…

However, above all this, tell yourself this, Daddy. I LOVE you. They’ll B Better Words

“Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson

There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

1534 Days Without B III, Day 975 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

For once, I’m not crying, complaining, or considering I’m not the best father for my boys B and V. My sons are better men and good dogs. As for me? I claimed slothfulness earlier. And now I’m writing. Is that what I call it? Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And while you are my judge, jury, and executioner. What you are not is a librarian or editor.

You are an investigator, my Inspector Echo. And I am a writer. Laughs hysterically, Ha! Can’t I see what day it is? Wednesday, April 2, 2025? But as I told you earlier this morning, the Day Job called. And Braxton and Virgil wouldn’t care to hear about it. Or books…

The Eve of a Cherry is one of the books I want to talk about today. Why? Do you want to hear me grieve more about Braxton or say something unkind about little Virgil Vivi?

Thought so! But The Eve of a Cherry is criminality, wanting to be flattery. And I need a refresher, considering M Anime asked for it. Her nightmare inspired “Nightmare at the Meat Market.” Cherry inspired “The Eve of a Cherry.”

Cherry Roslyn Fae is a murderess, offing the lovers of a man, Cade Xavier Cosgrove. He runs to America, and Cherry’s mother, Anna Cecilia Fae, hoping to avoid the law, flees with Cherry to the States. Both Mum and daughter fall into the hands of Father Bridgeman and The Moondust organization and Bridgman’s pseudo-son, the Boy. Forced into several (adult situations) to cover their crimes, both Cherry and Anna attempt to avoid ending up dead and further deviance and depravity. Only in the end… Uh, The Eve of a Cherry.

Does that pique your interest, Inspector? I sent the whole thing to Cherry, and… crickets.

She’s talking to me again; this was years ago. But of course, I still have my Day Job. My writing…

And now, M Anime is becoming quite the writer herself. Remember Triond? But Inspector… Words!

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” stars Sofía Ana Acosta, a retail employee stalked by a man named Antonio Mateo Correa. In an effort to get away, she takes a night shift from her employer, which turns into working at a brothel. She’s an adult film star in illegal cinema. Cherry Fae Kensington is Mr. Thornfield’s personal assistant who owns Max-Mart (Names). She manipulates Sofía for the CEO with William Atlas Beckford. Though they all seek to escape, control, or destroy the organization. Antonio? Cuck, NTR? Nightmare At The Meat Market.

Do I feel ashamed writing such things? If it fed my boys. Tell them better stories. Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

1529 Days Without B III, Day 970 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

WillLeave a comment

I like to think that I’m a “Simple Man.” I’m sure lots of people think that I’m simple enough. And that my sons, four legs, fur, and friendship were/are better men. Both of them would make better Presidents. But me? “Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.”

Monday, April 7, 2025

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… not an enigma to be solved or with enough of my fur to be glued back together. A genie…

You wish to have me back every day. A few times every day. One more reason you either try to fill the world with noise or you crave sleep the same way I wanted McDonald’s. That sounds so good right now, but this isn’t the movie Bedazzled. And you don’t have $3.47. How much does a Big Mac and a Coke cost now? Also, you got what, a buck fifty?

Also, also, I’m not the Devil. I’m always and forever your son. Our bond transcends time and space. Whether it’s a real-time conversation or a moment in the future, I’ll always be your son. Daddy?

Today or next week, I am what you wish for the most. But there is more, my father. I promise you there is. Like Virgil?

“Ain’t got no money. Ain’t got no fancy car. Don’t live a life of a millionaire. Or a movie star.” But you’ve sang to him. He snacked with you on Zaxby’s yesterday. And even when the house was burning up. He sat with you as you read about missing… Me.

Honestly, Dad, I’ve got “Nothing But Love” for you both. Like father, like son, Dad. However, I can’t blame you for thinking that it is not enough. Fortune, fame… Everything!

“I ask for wealth, I ask for fame
I ask for glory to shine on my name
I ask for love I can possess
I ask for God and his angels to bless me.”
Notre Dame, God Help the Outcasts

It’s your second wish. Your promise to me when I had everything. I wish you believed it. I would look at you and think, “The World Is Yours,” and in this moment, I am happy.

But you believe if you had me and money… Maybe…

You wouldn’t be afraid. That’s your third wish. To never be afraid ever again. Daddy? Dad, I could tell you, Be Not So Fearful, but I might as well say quit breathing or breaking your heart over me. How about not mooning over Cherry’s and M Anime’s Yabbos? My favorite girl… I can moon over hers. I mean, Dad, you gave me comfy spots, however…

Anyway, if we talked about Yabbos or what you’re afraid of right this second… Seriously, we would have eternity together. But you’re wishing for what you want right now, Dad.

To have me your boy, Elon’s billions, and to Live Brave because then comes power. However, hear me or don’t. All You Need Is Love. How? Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin.”
― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

“Without hope we live in desire”
― Virgil, Dante’s Inferno

1527 Days Without B III, Day 968 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

When was the last time I had good news? I’ve heard some “good” things about politics, but Trump is president. We’re effed. I got more hours at the Day Job, but I’m a misanthrope. I’m reading about dogs, but mourning my boy. Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I haven’t harmed the messenger… yet. But I’m going to deliver some bad news. So what sin?

SLOTH, considering it’s almost 8 AM. And I haven’t gotten out of bed. I’m using all my injuries as excuses. ENVY @thatgoodnewsgirl because that won’t ever be me. I mean, as in telling you anything happy and positive with me. And I’ve bared false witness since I have taken the trash out. I took Virgil outside. I’ve read a bit. But getting me to Heaven…

I have no knowledge of how that could happen. But that’s where I sent Braxton.

Inspector, that’s the bad news “Every Morning.” And you wonder why I say, “Let it burn,” from a political perspective. My Braxton saw me through the first Trump Presidency. Since I lost my son, well… Four years later, I’m still reading titles on Pet Loss.

Oh, how I wish SLOTH, ENVY, and lying were my only sins today. I tell Virgil that things will get better. That I will be better. I’m sure Braxton whispers to him from the void.

“I see dead people.”
―

That’s what Virgil must be saying to himself. Plus, he’s survived 963 days here, Inspector.

Like father, like son. But I have the luxury of just one more sin. Uh oh, and oh my, LUST.

So what’s the bad news? It’s whatever gets me up in the morning. Besides having to see about my boys. Crying over Braxton, which I haven’t done today, or again seeing to my Virgil’s needs. There are always some big yabbos on the phone. Today, it was Ciri, Triss, and Yennefer sans their clothing. And I texted M Anime back.

Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom? I have to stop thinking about her as such. But “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve Of A Cherry.” Where am I on finishing and editing those two books? Now, next week is going to be spent at the day job. I swear, Inspector.

Isn’t making more money good news? “Not like this… Not like this,” The Day Job… Having the new schedule, the news, the knowledge that I have to go outside, Inspector.

I understand why people choose ignorance. And the good news is I’m not like them. There’s more good news, nobody has called me STUPID today. With my mother effing eyes, I can’t look at myself to do the honors. Allergies ha-ha! Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil

1522 Days Without B III, Day 963 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve never prayed for better for me. I wish for better for my sons. That B ended up wherever good boys go. And if I were going anywhere than the 9th circle, he’d keep a warm spot by the fire for me. V deserves better. He looks up. Just Look Up B

Monday, March 31, 2025

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Can’t you see me? Do you even want to? It’s like seeing what time it is. You’re not late.

But I bet you never wished I’d be sitting on your head, serving as an alarm clock. Or a rooster… Fifteen years, Daddy and I never got to see one of those chickens in person. Or doggie. What was one of my rules? The best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket or box. Ha! Remember those times, Dad?

But being in a box myself… Seriously, Dad, are you laughing at me? Are those tears of joy? Sadness? Or is it from that yellow dust flying everywhere? It’s storming outside. But how much of that got into my little brother’s fur? Virgil’s still white as a ghost or spirit.

Honestly! Virgil could be afraid. Or is he still a blank page waiting for you to define love for him?

You haven’t been writing about love a lot, my father. Pain, Pollen, and potential stepmoms.

Do you remember when I had to take my medicine? And you always had to put it in something good. Like father, like son. And this worked to my benefit. When you would go out. But you would come back with those golden stick thingies that would taste so good. Those were the moments I cherished, Dad. Those fancy foods…

Did I mention there are so many things to love about The Rainbow Bridge… Food, futons, and comfy spots galore, and the color fuchsia… Well, more like colors in general, Daddy. Though, like you, I prefer black and red. Our battle standard. Our flag. Representation.

The thing about that, Dad, is that you must look up to see it. Everything

Sure, there are reasons to look down. When you would pick me up. Don’t forget to pick V up. Mostly, you do that because you don’t like his panicky run as if you would shut him out. Like father, like son. You think I left you 1520 Days ago. But I didn’t. Only, Dad, you have me feeling a bit like Robin Williams in What Dreams May Come. Do you remember? It’s okay to remember. It’s OK to feel. But:

“It ends when you want to stop hurting (him)”.
―

When you stop thinking of my ashes and the dust-to-dust stuff, dream of the better world you imagined for me. When you see the words from your lap, put them on shelves. When Virgil’s on your shoulder like me, or you see my stepmom’s eyes and my siblings in your arms. Just Look Up B

“Raising the dead when it suits us…”
Raymond A. Villareal

“The only hope for the doomed is no hope at all…”
― Virgil, The Aeneid

1520 Days Without B III, Day 961 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

The day I finally publish a book… Really. Don’t ever feed an AI one chapter of a story where America Horror Story looks tame by comparison. And what about all the time I waste on other people’s words? Did I say waste? “Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton.”

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… If and if I had to declare, define, and defend each one, we’d be here all day, Inspector.

But today, we’ll focus on three or four sins. And unlike MAGA/Republicans, I’ll stand behind my words. They take life every day. With my wordsmithing, I want to save three.

“Seven billion lives… it’s too much. I just hope I’m smart enough and brave enough to save three.” – Serge Leveque from The Core (2003)

My sons Braxton and Virgil and myself? How’s that working out this week? Huh, Echo. Braxton is still dead. And how is Virgil living? I’ll have to ask the AI. As Queen Ramonda said, “I think one day AI will kill us all.” Every day, Inspector Echo. AI becomes more prevalent. From telling me in Virgil’s Voice how he would feel. Braxton from the grave…

Who needs Braxton’s ghost? And I don’t need to look into Virgil’s eyes, either. Inspector, all I need to do is write. And to what end? Am I making money?

That’s not why you become a writer… Okay, honestly, I lost myself a long time ago. It became about girls and then providing a life for my son. But now I ask AI once again.

Inspector, I fed AI the 17th chapter of my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Surprisingly, it didn’t ask this question, but I will… “Am I A Psycho?” Do you remember what that frat did to Madison Montgomery in American Horror Story? And her wrath?

If it’s any consolation, Inspector, the men who hurt Sofía in my story were punished. However, who would read about such crimes? I’m not Matt Shaw or Judith Sonnet. SIGH. How much money do they make with their horrifically sexual tales? Inspector, I press on.

Well, until I find another way to waste good writing time. Last night, for example. Inspector, such and such a person was posting on X/Twitter pictures of the anime “Saimin Seishidou.” So, I followed with the videos. Anyway. They’ve switched to “Kuroinu Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru.” Claudia Levantine, to be precise. So naturally…

Then they took her pic down, and all my videos were for naught. So what did I get? It’s like Cherry telling me she doesn’t want to be known only for her Yabbos. Fair enough.

However, I have plenty of pictures of Emily Goodwin showing off her impressive pair. Ha! What! I read her book, “Stay.” Words won’t bring Braxton back or have Virgil worry less. Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton

1515 Days Without B III, Day 956 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will