Meditation 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

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

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Meditation 044 ~Virgil, Go Cover Braxton~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 043 ~Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil~

The day I found love… I’m sure some people remember when they first met. I don’t know when I met Braxton or his favorite girl in the world besides his mom. Virgil was Saturday, August 13, 2022, around 11:00AM. “Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil”

Tuesday, August 13, 2024

Meditation 043 ~Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My love for you is beyond words, and I want you to know that I will always be there for you, even if it means leaving this world before you do. Creepy thoughts? I intend to “Go” before you love.

To the “Spirit in the Sky?” Talk about opening up a can of worms. First and foremost, what makes me think I’m getting into Heaven? But my Braxton will “Find Me.” I can’t tell you when I first met him… sometime in April. Or the exact date he was born. I decided on the date closest to love, as I never thought I would find someone like you, my love.

Virgil is different. I know his birthday, and I fear the day I might have to face his mortality. Will he be like Braxton’s Aunt, her son Gabe? And I’ll find him someplace, dead. Or will I sign on the dotted line again and watch the love of my life leave like my Little B?

Wow! This got pretty dark. And on today of all days. Saturday, August 13, 2022, is when I first met “Archie.” I’d eventually name him Virgil Vivi Bradford. After the poet that led Dante through the Inferno… through Hell. The black mage from Final Fantasy IX. And Bradford? Well, you took that name yourself, my love. I am a traditionalist in this. I know that.

A wife, 2.5 kids or more, a man provides for his family, etc. How did I ever get you, my love? Because, as I said, I’m one for tradition. But with my business. Hell, I’m more concerned with what I’ll do to your body than what you’ll do. Par for the course these days politically. But you match my freak…

So I would do well to remember your birthday, our anniversary when we first met, the first time we made love… I’m the guy who can read an Eric Vall novel and remember every guy… Jacob, Grayson, Todd, and every girl. My love, there are far too many to name—an estimated 24 women. And you wonder why I’m in all my adult business endeavors.

Anyway, every time they “get it on.” I remember. And yet, I have no idea “How To Save A Life. I couldn’t save my firstborn son. And so I signed the paperwork. Virgil is here now. And I signed the paperwork. And my love for you and for our children. I’m a writer. Paperwork everywhere

Love on a calendar, a schedule. Braxton… Gotcha, It’s Virgil

1290 Days Without B III, Day 731 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

I turned into Hank Hill last night, asking, “Are you Chinese or Japanese?” It was in my dream… I swear, with the “anime” I watch, “I’m turning Japanese.” Wow! I was never good at talking to people. Neither was my B III. Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…

Saturday, August 10, 2024

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

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… So I could buy an island, create a country, and write my own language… Silence Lunalesca.

I ache to talk to my son. If there’s anything that made me truly ‘special,’ it’s the bond we shared. I miss speaking Braxton fluently. But that dream I had last night… I can’t shake the feeling of loss. Who was that talking to me?

Am I losing my mind? I need to eat something substantial, not just fast food. But it can’t be more shrimp and pasta. Virgil can’t handle that. It’s like the only way he can communicate with me is through his pain. It makes me feel like a terrible person. He’s sniffling or sick. How long it’s been without a mess…

Lunalesca, he’s alive. I show that every day. A picture is worth a thousand words.

You’re lucky if you get a dozen out of me daily. Let’s say ten because that’s a round number. Or fifteen because that’s my lucky number… It’s how old B III was before… he passed.

Euthanasia? I still don’t like that word. I understand how Braxton died. By his hand! Lunalesca. It was by my hand signing the paperwork and a vet, showing him mercy.

Every day, I speak a language of grief. And ‘Nobody Knows’ it but me. Not even Braxton’s Aunt. I care for her, but she’s dealing with her own losses. One in particular? The loss of her fur buddy, Gabriel (Gabe). So, who’s left to understand?

I’m either bawling, quoting some book, or singing beats? My modes of communication and language…

I was going to say are “weird,” but nobody wants to be that. I’ll say I’m woke or wicked if anything. And being both? Is that what my dream was trying to explain last night?.

I don’t want to know myself. Honestly, I was done by seven… That’s when Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze came out… I never expected to see seventeen. And now I’m approaching forty. I want to join Braxton more than ever.

Lunalesca, it’s either that or look at some Yabbos. I swear some moaning masochistic mistress… Did I mention I don’t talk to women well? Too much effing on the brain.

Lunalesca, I don’t share that with my boys or female friends. Uh, yeah… I’ll shut up. Braxton, Language! Virgil, Uh…

1287 Days Without B III, Day 728 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 039 ~Defining Mr. B, Virgil~

The Refraction of Mr. Saturn? That’s a title. How about the books I’m writing? The books I’ve written. Two of them are about my firstborn son. My Old Man can’t define me, and I still refuse to represent my son. Too much to do! Defining Mr. B, Virgil.

Friday, August 9, 2024

Meditation 039 ~Defining Mr. B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Just different from the one I’m supposed to be working on. “Sofía’s Nightmare.” It’s still untitled.

It’s a heavy burden, Sophia. Braxton’s novels remain untouched. And even if I edit them, it’s too late for me now. I couldn’t save Braxton from fifteen, and now I’m left to grapple with the thought that I can’t save myself from being almost forty.

Sometimes, it still burns me up that he was 13 days shy of 16. He died on the 31st, and his birthday was on the 13th. Virgil’s Gotcha Day will be on the 13th of this month. A coincidence? A conspiracy? After crying for my boy and watching some cute girls’ yabbos, I started listening to people define their type of crazy. Racism, running elections, rewriting history, etc. How do I explain my conspiracy theories? How do I define refraction?

Look at the time; it’s time for a book review:

Big Ideas For Mr. Saturn

Well, maybe not, considering this is a short story and what happens in the end. But it gets five stars from me. The ideas are so “out of this world.” At the same time, it is relatively simple for a guy like me and the characters within it. However, Ms. Courtenay Schembri Gray is a complex individual. Or so I think. It’s one of the reasons I rather enjoy her work so much. Though I can’t pinpoint any particular moment in this story, I consider my moment. As a whole, it is an excellent piece. And the only thing stopping me from purchasing several copies for friends is simply that it’s on Kindle. I’ll ask them all the same. The prose is truly excellent, and I’m sure you’d appreciate it as much as I do.

Will that get me to stop thinking about such and such yabbos? I really want to get back to writing “my” story. Well, it’s a story a girl dreamed up who has an impressive set of yabbos herself. The things I write that aren’t a part of the anatomy, Sophia. I complained about the “Day Job’s” hours some time ago, and now I must write to stay ahead. Somehow hmm.

Then, there was looking at the financial books. As Cherry said today, “Everyone is broke!”

So, Lady Sophia, I find myself grappling with the weight of Braxton’s death, the responsibility of keeping Virgil alive, my gazing at M Anime, and the allure of Cherry’s buxom bodies. And amidst all this, I’m reading the book Morning Star. Can I genuinely define myself in this moment? I find myself wanting to try. But Defining Mr. B, Virgil.

1286 Days Without B III, Day 727 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

What do the Day Job, Aug 13th, and E-Day have in common? They are days I shouldn’t have existed. That’s every day… STUPID E-Day. But to be more specific, they’re days I should have stayed in the house. But dogs are angels… Leave Virgil Alone Braxton.

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Meditation 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

1285 Days Without B III, Day 726 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, I’m late. Laziness and letting Virgil out. At least nothing’s on the floor.

Uh, your bed, food and water bowls, and bathroom spot. But you’re not there, Braxton. Trust me, I look for you every day. And what about the “puppy” next to me? Virgil’s “Gotcha Day” is coming up fast. The 13th, to be precise. Do I have any plans or money?

The most challenging period in my “life,” and I believe in yours too, was when I had to leave for the Day Job to earn money. And yet, it was never enough. That’s why I’m sitting here, scared. What, again?

But we’ll get to that. What about “Gotcha Day?” I don’t even remember yours, Braxton. I’m still stuck on the day you died. On that note, how’s Gabe? Have you met him wherever? I have no words for your aunt.

On top of mourning for her furry child, she has a lot on her plate. Me and V? I’m surprised we have anything on ours. We did share some fries and a burger. Was that his gift for coming into my existence? Hell, I don’t even want to be here myself, Little B. Never have

You wish I would stop saying that, right? What if I only meant it at the Day Job, B III? Over the past few days, I’ve been getting many congratulatory messages. I mean seriously, B.

Congratulations, Will, on wasting your existence here for thirteen years.

Well done, but you’re still sitting here in Hell, boy.

Yeah, you chose us over the life of your son. Way to go… Effing idiot.

I need to leave you alone. I need to leave myself alone. I need to leave Virgil alone as well. But the truth is, Braxton, I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you, Virgil, and a pretty girl. I said maybe…

But here’s the thing, Baby B. I don’t want to be alone. And these days, I’ve been feeling more alone than ever. If anything, I’m being selfish. You’re looking after Gabe while I’m trying to support his mother with anything. I’m always starting something with Cherry, whether I intend to or not. And the things I’ve said to M Anime. Well, there’s a reason I broke down last night, Braxton. What? You have your toys, and I have Momokun’s Yabbos. It was the only moment 2-V had left me alone in days. He’s all Mr. Cuddles now, Dear B III.

Just Leave Virgil Alone Braxton

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

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

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Meditation 037 ~Braxton And Virgil’s Helpfulness~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

Don’t be anxious but excited. When was the last time I was excited? Wrestling? Watching or with a pretty girl? With all I have to do? So much to worry about. Love? For my friends? For the future? The fiend in the mirror? Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

Tuesday, August 6, 2024

Meditation 036 ~Virgil, Don’t B Anxious~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I lust after you. Let me “Love You Down.” Or “I Wanna Sex You Up.”

Three things: First, it’s clear that Braxton isn’t talking to me today. Second, the critics aren’t going to like this. Third, despite worrying about Braxton’s aunt today, I feel a certain way. Today isn’t even today. It’s Saturday, August 3, 2024. Am I exhausted, love?

You betcha! That’s the difference between being anxious and excited. In terms of my boys… Virgil makes me anxious, but I’m excited to see Braxton. Anxiety takes a lot, babe.

And what about our two-legged children? I have been asking that question for 1283 days. I continue to mourn and/or grieve for Braxton. And now his aunt lost her fine furry fellow in Gabe. How long will I continue bringing that up? I’m excited to join Braxton someday. If anything.

I shouldn’t say things like that, but as I was telling Lady Lunalesca, I’m either depressed or depraved. And that’s when I’m not sleeping. You saw me reading Randomize by Andy Weir today. If I was as bright as the lady in that book, would I still be mourning Braxton?

Sad as it is, I’m excited to think about my son up in Heaven, on the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. Is that why he’s not speaking to me now? He gave me enough songs today.

And if he left me so I could find love in another way, I swear! I love that little ole boy, but he will be in trouble. Oh! So I’m going to Heaven? Not with what excites me, love. Ha!

Today, I was excited as I delved into my novel, knowing you would be proud of my dedication. Is that my final answer, my love?

I’m anxious when it comes to writing. Still, when it comes to something I’m passionate about, even when I know the entire work is garbage, strangely, it reminds me of myself. I’m not excited to see myself, but I get up every day. And why? To see a time before. What does that mean? Before I get anxious about existing in this world another day.

There are my boys, well, boy. Again, B III was a testament to my being a father. Hell! A good one. That’s who I was before. And then some things bounce… in bed. Lovely. If only anxiety bounced back to excitement. Virgil, Don’t B Anxious

1283 Days Without B III, Day 724 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

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

Saturday, August 3, 2024

Meditation 033 ~Braxton, Virgil Burial Furs~

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

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

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

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

Braxton’s Aunt’s son passed away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

WE don’t write like I once did with B. He would sleep under the table while I would type away. WE don’t read like I once did with B. I don’t go and lie on the couch and try not to drop my device. And reading about pet loss… Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye.

Friday, August 2, 2024

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or sing you a song? I would rather go back to sleep. Always. Yesterday was bad.

And I only write bad stories. Sad ones, at least. And so I remember the worst story I ever wrote. A bill for euthanasia, cremation, and my son, my boy Braxton, in a box. It still amazes me I can sweat over days like yesterday. The weather Sophia… Please! Hell?

That’s what I deserve, whether it be from embarrassment, Eros, or, again, B III’s euthanasia.

I’m just a “Sucker for Pain,” It’s what makes me a great $adist. The fact that I understand my ma$ochism. And I trying to fool any censors and the like. Like little Virgil? That’s TMI.

I haven’t had much private playtime. Not with Virgil, “my constant companion,” (rolls eyes) always by my side, even when I’m trying to write.

Even now, he’s lying here while I write a book review:

It Takes The Hardest Goodbye

To do what exactly? Heal? I won’t say I like this book. But who can say they like any book about dog loss? It’s good, needed, necessary, but no one wants to read them. Still, I did to the tune of three stars. I’m still reading things like this, and my fur buddy, my son, has been gone for three years. Titles like this blend together after you read enough of them. But the fact that I took a few quotes, here or there, to heart honestly says a lot. I know a few fur parents, and I could recommend better. But The Hardest Goodbye is a good starter book for anyone taking this long and lonely walk of loss.

Can I say, Sophia, for the record, that I’m absolutely livid with the Kindle App for removing this book from my list? It’s not like anything I’ve written or will. Will ever be seen… like for real. Ever! My works…

Sophia, I’m still working on “Sofía’s Nightmare,” And I “won” with my goal of 15,000 words for Camp NaNoWriMo. But each chapter only gets worse. What’s the last one without:

  1. Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi n Etude~ Casual Romance Club
  2. The Blackmail II: The Animation
  3. The V Games
  4. Slaves To Passion Hana Dorei
  5. Olivia Casta
  6. Dakota Skye

And there’s more…

But I should shut up and wonder how I’ll pay for the next crisis. Virgil’s fur is getting around everywhere. It’s like he’s leaving a trail of his presence, and I’m left to clean up after him. There’s always something. Hello! Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye

1279 Days Without B III, Day 720 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 031 ~Virgil’s Month To B~

It’s the 1st of tha Month. And what do I have to show for it? Some new pictures? And they’re all not of Yabbos or the ones I want to see. Some old movies for a new story, with an even older habit. And getting a jump on being sad. Virgil’s Month To B.

Thursday, August 1, 2024

Meditation 031 ~Virgil’s Month To B~

1278 Days Without B III, Day 719 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Do you remember how long it would take to explain mine? Food, face plant, Fallout…

Here’s hoping. Explaining my existence… it’s like how the world comes to an end daily. A few things about that, Braxton. We both know when the world ended. Sunday, January 31, 2021, sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 PM. That should have been it for “US.”

Somehow, I’ve made it here. Today is Sunday, July 28, 2024. I just finished talking or “playing” with myself a few hours ago. Eww! I know. And you would do that stuff around your Aunt Augusta all the time. The only reason I got time was because it was raining.

So you know 2-V made a mess, and I sent him to your room. He can’t stand the rain, B.

Neither could during your time here. Our time together, Braxton.

Why am I so sad and sentimental at this time? I’m reasonably assured today sucks.

Braxton, what did I teach you about time travel? The first rule… DON’T! Then again, I gave you eternity, didn’t I? It’s my fault. But let’s focus on me and my other failures, not only those that sent you to your grave. It’s the “1st of tha Month.” July was the halfway point B III. Like not foreseeing your end, August offers me front-row seating to the oncoming second-worst day.

E-Day? That’s what woke me up to talk to you today. I had a nightmare about E-Day. And there was noise about Slaves to Passion. But that’s not for you. Neither was death or time travel. Still, I ask… What am I going to do?

Well, like most days, I hope that I’ll go in my sleep and I won’t have to reread this. That’s the only future I see most days. If only Virgil weren’t here. And that’s why you sent him here. To keep me from spoiling it all by saying something stupid like I love you. Ha!

My time following you… That’s not ending anytime soon. I’m letting you know I will worry about myself a lot more in the next couple of months; that’s all, Braxton. More like what my Olds, your grandparents will do with an almost forty-year-old bum. Yikes! Because I’m still sitting in this bed on a rainy afternoon with a conked-out Virgil preventing me from watching any Hent… Virgil’s Month To B

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad