Tag: Personality

Meditation 098 ~Say It While You Can~

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Say It While You Can, and ask it if you dare. Or am I being lazy or obtuse? If anything, I’m being a scaredy-cat, which shows why V and I get along. We’re exactly alike. But if I have to say or ask. Is the schedule working? Sad. Say It While You Can.

Monday, October 7, 2024

Meditation 098 ~Say It While You Can~

Three-Hundredth And Sixty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Like being late to work. To “my” Day Job. I’m up. Dammit, I’m up. And plenty scared.

Is that what I needed to say today? If anything, I should be asleep in bed. I’m still in bed. But I’m talking to you. And I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go. I hope… I hope. I should be like Morgan Freeman in the film Deep Impact. “I wish… No wishing is wrong.

So what is right? I love you, Braxton. Or some version of that. Daddy loves you, B. Or should I do my best Yondu impression… “I’m damn lucky you’re my boy. What about I’m sorry, B III. Every time I get scared, “disturbingly” skeevy, or STUPID. I have to think of the worst thing I’ve ever done. Or the best, depending on current mourning trends.

Sing me to sleep, Braxton.

I should have sung to him when I sent him on his way. Speaking of being sent on my way, I should cut all this music off so I can hear the phone. If my schedule didn’t come through, why should I think the Timeclock app would alert me to my failure to come in?

There was nothing at the regular time or thirty minutes later. And if the hour passes, Madam, what should I think? I will be waiting all day for one of the managers to call. And what about tomorrow? Once more, I’ll be here like I’m Lenny Kravitz… I’ll Be Waiting.

Again… with the music. But the question is, what should I say…

“You’re a coward.”
“That is a correct assessment.”

The truth shall set me free? And make such a Pretty Mess with my Pretty Piece of Flesh, Madam. Geez! Can I be any more… vile right now? I may not be at the Day Job right now, but Virgil and I can pretend. He’s hiding out in Braxton’s Room. While I’d be in the stockroom at the Day Job, hoping no one could hear what I was listening to.

However, right now, I listening for the phone to chirp… Jeezu! It reminded me I had kept my pants on for four days. Now if only I could sleep or see and listen to slurping, sucking, and screaming slu… “young ladies.” My legacy of saying anything and nothing at all. Say It While You Can.

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

1345 Days Without B III, Day 786 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 091 ~Life Is Not Fair Period~

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It’s not fair having to wake up and feel this way since the age of 7. I did have 15 years of waking up thinking how’s B. Is he healthy, hungry, and/or happy? The only thing unfair to him was living. To me, it’s being forty. “Life Is Not Fair Period.”

Monday, September 30, 2024

Meditation 091 ~Life Is Not Fair Period~

Three-Hundredth And Sixty-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Though I would like to believe that with Braxton here, enough money or the right power… Sigh.

But my son is gone. I have survived this month to see 40. And power… To get out of bed.

But today is Friday, September 27, 2024. And if I have any more days like I’ve had this week… I didn’t even think about joining Braxton on “Emergence Day.” But the 24th and the 26th? As the song goes, “Woke Up This Morning.” I swear, Madam, I came back and…

Slept. And it’s not because I like being 40. And it’s not like 2V is my best friend. V’s scared.
He feels he’s always getting in the way. And it doesn’t matter that I’ve never harmed him, let him go hungry, or even hinted at sending him back or that he’ll join B one day.

It’s not fair to Virgil or me to live in FEAR every single second. Don’t get me started on others. Other people have it worse. But this is the last day, ha-ha, when it should be all about me, Madam. If you only knew how much I abhor September. The end of January? B’s ending. It’s like I’m trapped in a never-ending cycle of despair.

But about those others… Hey Jealousy! You’ve heard me mention @fitdadceo and @csapunch. They’re in their forties. Look at everything they have, Dear Madam. Everything.

“All I’ve Ever Wanted.” And I don’t blame anyone but myself. But whose fault is it that I was done with existence by age 7? Didn’t @fredoontv say something like that, Madam. And look at him. Even better, Johnny Sins… well, his girls. A Wraithbabes gigolo? I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed myself.

I don’t blame my skin, sex, or sins, Madam. Life is not fair because of me and no one else.

I find no fault in the loss of my son. My heart, my hero, that other dreaded H-word, dear Madam. I love Braxton. But again, this isn’t about him. You know that song, “Wake Me Up.” And those few lines:

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is the prize.”
Wake Me Up, Avicii

Love is not a prize. Love is a gift I’ve never given myself. Instructions I have never got to read. As I was telling Lady Sophia this morning. I’m too busy reading about old men now and girls sans clothing. That’s why I’m losing, Madam. And what’s going to change?

Sitting here at the table, writing as the music wafts? Life Is Not Fair Period.

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

1338 Days Without B III, Day 779 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 084 ~Knowledge Is More Powerful Unshared~

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Monday, September 23, 2024

Meditation 084 ~Knowledge Is More Powerful Unshared~

Three-Hundredth And Sixty-Second Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Especially since I talk too much. (Pause for laughter). Talking to who? Braxton’s Aunt, Cherry, M Anime…

What about B? Can’t I give him the month off with Emergence Day? Why not let him rest in peace? I look at B’s Euthanasia the same way Negan brained Baxter in The Walking Dead Episode 10×22 Here’s Negan. You best hope I never stop talking because when I do… When I do, something very terrible is gonna happen to you. Uh, B III’s gone.

This may sound like a confession to Inspector Echo. But do you remember when I was afraid to say Braxton’s name? Somebody hacked me once, and a friend caught on because they didn’t know my son’s name. So, I kept Braxton’s name secret. B III was my little Dæmon. And didn’t I say I wouldn’t do this, my dear Madam?

Excuse me, today is Friday, September 20, 2024. And what do I know more about than my B? I should invoke his name more often because it keeps me from thinking about my big black… uh, having blue balls. It’s been a HARD day, Madam. And telling people that. Ha!

M Anime would ignore me. Cherry would go silent. And Braxton’s Aunt… Not the time.

I don’t know anything about women, but as Sir Mix-A-Lot put it: “When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist. And a round thing in your face. You get sprung.” Uh, not only…

Cherry, Piper Niven, Estella Bathory, Harmony Reigns, Mariah Mallard. BBW’s…

Actresses, “The hottest girls in the nastiest situations…” I research. Study. And I read lots.

And that’s knowledge I should keep for me. But I’m a writer. I strive to be an open book. If I ever published one. But as I told Lady Sophia today. My book, “Sofía’s Nightmare…”

I don’t have qualms about showing off my body. But my big head and the face to go with it. “No face as hideous as my face.” Should I mention I know plenty about Disney? And none of my kids walk on two legs. What can I say? I’m also a Star Wars fan. Madam, I know bad people in certain countries, but I know about Trump and Vance here.

There are my political affiliations. The pervy things I do and all my spent pennies.

Knowledge Is More Powerful Unshared

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

1331 Days Without B III, Day 772 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 077 ~Silence Is Scarier Than Screams~

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Silence can be monstrous. I made it so. “Yes, I can be very cruel. I have been taught by masters.” As in people’s words. The silence left by my son. The act of blowing out candles. Candles? And after being pervy. Silence Is Scarier Than Screams.

Monday, September 16, 2024

Meditation 077 ~Silence Is Scarier Than Screams~

Three-Hundredth And Sixty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Like me, not talking about my son this month with Emergence Day. It has come and gone.

I’m forty. And still, nothing is worse than the silence that came with my son’s last breath in this world. But the silence shattered when I first cried out in this universe. A victory? I suppose I could talk about Virgil, but there are two things. One, Virgil is usually silent anyway. Other than when I leave or the noises he makes showing I’m not being a good “Dad.” Virgil’s nails click on the floor. His belly when I need to get food. His sicknesses.

Two, as I’ve been singing repeatedly this month, “Today is all about you.” This song.

Madam, next to “All About You.” Today, I’m listening to Faith’s Outpost Ambiance… (Cult Music). “It’s a Five O’clock World.”

I don’t want to talk about my Day Job either, Madam. There is silence since they banned earphones/air pods. What I think about when I’m in that place. My STUPIDITY

There’s the silence when I wake up every morning and find out I’m not in Heaven or Hell. Can I call where I’m sitting right now purgatory? Three years without… well, you know who. No! He deserves better. Braxton, Braxton, BRAXTON! My sweet buttery Madam.

There’s the silence that comes with each Emergence Day. But that is my doing. People…

I could get all political today with everyone screaming, what dog, what cat, war, and women? And yet, the worries of my existence trump all that. See what I did there? Some should be silent.

But much like I said, I can’t get through a conversation without mentioning my B. How about me coming back to the house without a burger and fries? Didn’t I say I was broke? Um, I have two days to choose. I got breakfast and dinner. Bacon? Speaking of meat… women. Am I as bad as those other guys? I say things about women, but at least I leave those to the confines of “adult relations media.” That’s a polite way of saying adult films…

I swear the silence that comes after all my muscle contractions and moaning over mammaries. A moment of bliss that calls to me within the silence. Whatever could fill it?

Yet I choose the silence. Because hearing some Beautiful Freak… Silence Is Scarier Than Screams

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

1324 Days Without B III, Day 765 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 070 ~Kisses Show A Working Tongue~

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It’s in his kiss. No! But B would love up his aunt. And V… I’ve cleaned up what has come out of his mouth many times. And as for me. I don’t remember what I said to that first girl. I can’t even order chicken at forty. “Kisses Show A Working Tongue.”

Monday, September 9, 2024

Meditation 070 ~Kisses Show A Working Tongue~

Three-Hundredth And Sixtieth Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Like me breathing after Emergence Day. Hell! I shouldn’t be after Braxton. Or Emergence Day Numero Cero.

I would rather kiss my furry son’s head one more time than draw my first breath. One necessitated the other, Madam. But at least I would have something to do with my mouth other than bawl about my boy, blame myself for everything, or BE STUPID. Madam, next to being Braxton’s end and my birth, I can’t stand being STUPID. It never ends, I’m afraid.

Even at forty? Well, I’m not quite there yet. I’m speaking to you on Tuesday, September 3, 2024. So, Emergence Day has yet to happen. Like I said, by the time you read this, I might not be breathing. I’d blame my Olds. But this is my existence. My existence…

Madam, I never asked for this life. I’d trade it all for a simple kiss.

Is that an Emergence Day wish? Last Monday night, I made a wish to avoid humiliation. I texted that because speaking… Anything that isn’t about my Braxton’s life… passing.

Anything that’s about something other than broads. Or anything that doesn’t involve me sounding STUPID. It’s not my strong suit. To open my mouth has never been a good thing, Madam.

How hard is it to say, “Yes, I would like the eight-piece fried chicken and a three-piece chicken fingers snack, please?” My mouth has much better uses, Madam. But saying Happy B-Word Day/Emergence Day… is not among them, Madam. Nope!

But again, a kiss… Do you want to know a secret, Madam? My first kiss? I got that. But I didn’t get a kiss during my “first time.” Well, uh…

I’m not The 40-Year-Old-Virgin, thankfully. I swear, sometimes I wonder who knows more about me. My lost boy or the Internet. The movie popped up, so I could watch that for Emergence Day and be thankful for the second-greatest miracle during my existence. A woman…

Madam, I was/am a father, and a girl made the mistake of thinking I was a man of worth for a night. And a few other girls here or there over forty years. But almost none when I had to look after Braxton. When was the last time I had a kiss, a kind hug that got kinda dirty… Back when I was a Smooth Operator. I feel stupid-er at forty. I’ll shut up because Kisses Show A Working Tongue.

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

1317 Days Without B III, Day 758 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 063 ~ Don’t Hate Meeting, Fear Knowing~

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With all I do, I can close my eyes and sleep. Not rest but sleep. It’s facing myself in the morning, which is the hardest part. Almost… Eww? To meet new people with such thoughts. And I fear I’ll never be one for JOY. Don’t Hate Meeting, Fear Knowing

Monday, September 2, 2024

Meditation 063 ~ Don’t Hate Meeting, Fear Knowing~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Like seeing who I am in Virgil’s eyes every morning. Or looking in the mirror. Braxton’s eyes…

I thought “we” agreed not to talk about him this week. Besides this week’s battle cry of STAY ALIVE! I should begin the day with the song “All About You.” Because for the next six days… Hell! I should be thrilled. With my Olds, I could be seeing Braxton again…

Please! It’s not easy attending a funeral every day. I mean mine and not… Anyway… Madam, let me avoid politics. Hint: Arlington National Cemetery. But to count myself among the ranks of the dead. Not the honored dead but the undead. And to see so many people happy. So what’s wrong with being happy? It pays better than Fear. Depression.

But there is still time to be thinking about getting paid. But should I survive…

I don’t hate being a writer, but I fear what I’ll write. Literally, the story of my existence, Madam. People don’t hate meeting me? But they fear knowing that this is who I am, sigh.

Fearful, Freaky, Fiendish, and effed up by my grief. Uh, Forlorn? Forgetful? How I wish.

I wish I could forget Emergence Day (E-Day). If my Olds didn’t hate meeting me. Madam, they surely fear the monster they made. I hate meeting their expectations and fear knowing what they intend to do about it. I’ll be forty on Emergence Day, Madam.

Today, I don’t Fear knowing Fear. But I hate to meet it everywhere, and so does everyone else. So why bother getting to know me at all? I’m always depressed.

I’m not successful because I’m not happy. Could I be happy? If I were successful and had simoleons raining down. Or several million fans. That’s what set me off last night. There’s a decent young brother with four million fans.

I wish I could be so silly or smart. There’s the mom that plays music with baby toys. Or the one that takes music and movies and makes skits. There are reactors, comedians… OnlyFans girls I’d like to meet and know in a biblical way

Sans clothing… The man that I meet every morning. Can I be a father again? A good friend. A fool who believes that I have a future. Yes, I can’t help but hate myself and fear what I’ll become soon. With Yabbos or yowling grief? Don’t Hate Meeting, Fear Knowing.

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

1310 Days Without B III, Day 751 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

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How do you make me shut up? You can sign my checks, have Yabbos, or be a ten lb. ball of fluff that watches me sleep and guards the door. What do I listen to? Anime vixens, the man in the mirror, and my son who loves me. Oh? Listen To The Silent Man.

Monday, August 26, 2024

Meditation 056 ~Listen To The Silent Man~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Or maybe I’m too noisy these days. I’m talking to myself. I’m moaning out, “Madoka Araki!” E-Day…

STAY ALIVE! That should be my battle cry for the next two weeks. But considering I’m a black man and “This Is America,” I should exercise my right to remain silent. My lost boy, little love, my Braxton would have made a great lawyer. And I should listen to him, wherever he is now. Uh…

My “Spirit In The Sky.” My son Braxton. What? Other people have God. So don’t you dare tell me I can’t talk to a dog that had me kneel more than “my sweet buttery Jesus.”

However, one thing they had in common is that I didn’t listen to either… eventually. Madam, I didn’t hear when my Braxton was sick. And I haven’t bothered talking to God since Braxton passed away. I keep repeating that, Madam.

Braxton would tell me to rest now without a word. He would look after me. But looking over myself these past few days… I’m a deviant, disgusted, depraved, and dumb.

This is “good,” considering how I speak about myself and my greatest worry. Waking up this morning, I turn again to Madoka Araki. What is it about that woman that’s getting to me? I can’t get crazy because Virgil has been so cuddly lately. Again, I didn’t hear Braxton, and I’m not listening to Virgil.

Animation… Hentai, in particular… “surprise, surprise” keeps my mind silent… Or at least busy, which I can “live” with. Idle hands are the devil’s playthings, so they say, Madam. If I can’t do one thing with my hands… I can learn about Madoka Araki (Discipline), Netorare, Natsuno, Saimin Seishidou… etc.

Please, BE SILENT! Well, I was crying last night, hoping that I wouldn’t wake up. It was a quiet night between watching WWE wrestling and “adult” wrestling, switching everything off, and then being left alone with my thoughts. Listening to myself, Madam, is the most dangerous thing. Being right here today, I realize I don’t like myself. Not ever. And yet, in these moments, I crave solitude, a break from the world’s noise. I’m old…

I’m almost forty, Madam, and don’t want to hear a word from that old man. What about my Old Man? Every time the phone makes a noise, I get scared. Cutting it off requires willpower.

My Braxton had plenty. I still miss his eyes on me, saying, “Go to sleep. You’re safe and sound.” E-Day brings the noise. I Can’t Listen To The Silent Man.

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

1303 Days Without B III, Day 744 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

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A question for today. The 12th or 19th? What is peace? It was sitting with Braxton and his Aunt watching movies. It was M Anime hinting we’ll “Marvin Gaye and get it on.” Cherry’s naughty pictures. Reading with Braxton. “Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys”

Monday, August 19, 2024

Meditation 049 ~Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And questions are meant to be raised… And finally, answered? My Old Man beating me about Math…

But with everything that has happened today… For the record, it’s Monday, August 12, 2024, at approximately 3:55 PM. Anyway, today was horrible. But I’ve survived worse. So, I want to talk about my son who was Euthanized. My B. Is there peace with Acceptance?

That’s today’s question. As the rule states, Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys. Hell! I’m broke.

But when it came to releasing my son Braxton from his pain. Price was no object. I could find the paperwork. But I must have spent over $1,000.00 over that weekend. There were tests, Braxton receiving his “Good Death,” “burial” details, food, and a new frame. All for his peace.

Only Braxton would have never bought it, either. He wanted to stay? But I’m Dad.

A Dad does what is right for his son? So what should my Old Man do as I approach forty?

That has been disturbing me this week and the next when you read this. I’m afraid, Madam. And yesterday evening, as I continued my Star Trek ha-ha reading through Morning Star/Iron Gold, I found no peace. No worries? Please! I worry constantly, Madam. I cannot. My mind is a battlefield of emotions. And I’m losing.

This brings me to today. Because of worrying, I could barely answer the manager. But then I had to worry about what she was “scheming.” Dear Madam, I’m told I wasted my “life.” It was my 13th Anniversary at the Day Job. I blame that place for my Braxton’s loss.

My hand and my rage. I want to join Braxton.

Would that bring me peace? Do you notice I’m not answering any of these questions? What? Am I too busy thinking about that hot redhead? Did she think I was calling her cupcake when I approached her as I left? Braxton, help me! I was holding a tray of them.

That could have gone a completely different direction… cue “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.” Ha! And what about the “Visual Chick?” All roads lead to Yabbos, bringing me peace.

Except, No! Every time I turn my hand into a Jackson Pollock painting… It’s so white that I’m singing “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.” Afterward, I’m only disgusted.

Peace? Can’t find it, afford it, or ignore it… Forever? But I continue to search for it amidst the chaos and pain. The everything… Madam. Peace Sells, But Nobody Buys.

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

1296 Days Without B III, Day 737 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

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Just keep writing, just keep writing. Writing what? For example, in Math, I have no answers. I can give you another excuse. And while I hate to lie… I’m not as eager to join Braxton as I hoped. Giving the truth scope. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

Monday, August 12, 2024

Meditation 042 ~ Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And mistakes have been made. The Trump Thing? The Trump Thing. So I’m sorry. Shall we begin?

As always, it starts with… Braxton. The blank space that my son made in my existence. If you are reading this, you see it. Unfortunately, I am, as well. But anything could happen, Madam. I’m speaking to you from Thursday, August 8, 2024, so who knows? With my luck… Well, I expect there’s a tombstone that is missing my name. And a dash. A blank?

Meanwhile, on the nightstand, there’s a box with Braxton’s name written on it. His grave.

What I wouldn’t give to “sponge away the writing on this stone.” It is far too early for Christmas, Madam. But I would take that holiday over several others. Existence?

Tomorrow is Virgil’s Gotcha Day. I signed my name on the dotted line. Blank Space

And why did I adopt Virgil? Because Braxton asked me to, from wherever he exists. I carry the weight of his request, his existence. His Heaven? “My eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom.” Braxton is dead. And to this day, I still make excuses as to why. Euthanasia. Eejit’s job. Ejaculation. Inevitably, the reason is there is none. It doesn’t matter. Oh, there’s always a thing.

Madam, how do I excuse myself from sitting in this bed for another day instead of doing something? Anything! “I came up with a million excuses,” as the song goes. Miracles? Each one explains why I continue to exist. And why I’m not dead. Because, like Trump… Eww! “Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked.” That’s my excuse for being such a monster, Madam. I struggle to accept myself.

I have something I have to do. That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one, Madam. Well, Look at me! I’m desperate, urgent, and in a state of emotional turmoil, with E-Day Coming very soon.

Better to look at Virgil. I got a call from PetSmart asking about his next appointment, Madam. And what did I say? I have to think about it. Lies are too easy, Madam. My God!

It beats saying, I’m broke? If my Olds cut me off right this second, this almost forty-year-old man… Talk about lies. That I would be alright. I’ve seen the bills, Madam. And yet I lie and say I deserve to be here. What happened to Braxton again? There is always time to make things right. How? It’s a blank space, an excuse, and a lie. Can’t Edit Blanks, Excuses, Lies

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

1289 Days Without B III, Day 730 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

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What are the odds I wake up to questions? Where is Braxton? Why isn’t he here? Does he still look after me? Did Virgil make a mess? What’s up with Star Wars and Disney+. Who’s Yabbos are on Instagram that I can look up on X? “Never Tell Me The Odds.”

Monday, August 5, 2024

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So I’ll ask, but please don’t tell me the odds about Braxton, the Day Job, or Self-Gratification…

What are the odds that I’m still stuck on Sunday, January 31, 2021? That’s when my son, my Braxton, left this world. The weight of this loss is unbearable, and even now, I shouldn’t see more. No more. Everything hurts.

But then came Saturday, August 13, 2022. That’s when I met Virgil. What were the odds I would hear Braxton’s voice saying, “This is black and white, Dad. Save him!”

Indeed, what are the odds that I could live so long before B III found me? And so long after. Madam, E-Day is coming up fast. Forty is too long. The odds of this reality are beyond belief. You see…

But fifteen was not enough. What about eleven? What are the odds that today, Friday, August 2, 2024, I would be in mourning with Braxton’s Aunt? Braxton has a friend.

Gabriel Michael “Gabe” has passed.

B’s Aunt has joined the club… Another parent lost her fur baby, her son, Madam. And what are the odds she wasn’t ready? I wasn’t with the right words, songs of woe, or sage worldly advice. Hell! I thought B would live forever. Or that I would fall before him.

People play with their hearts regarding our four-legged friends or those that swim. Whatever. The odds that we can ever be the same without them… How does zero sound to you, Madam? And what are the odds that we have to keep getting up every single day? I ask why?

What are the odds that I let Braxton down and join him? It’s storming outside. I have my “protection” in the drawer. Trip, Poison, Stupidity…

But the Grim Reaper doesn’t play like that. Not with me, anyway. I’m not a “believer,” but God didn’t save my son. He is keeping me, though, or maybe that’s B III. Come on, dude.

No! I’m the one who plays. Today, I took a twenty-minute nap. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been trying to comfort Braxton’s Aunt as she comforted me when Braxton passed. Finding solace in this journey is a constant struggle, Madam.

What about the odds of having fun? Uh? Virgil got into trouble, so I sent him to Braxton’s room, which means I’ve been looking at Olivia Casta, Pawnshop, and anything else. I know, Madam, Eww! Can I keep it in my pants for at least three days? With this existence? What are the odds? Hmm.

Rest In Peace, Gabriel Michael. Be Nice, Braxton Barks, Please.

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

1282 Days Without B III, Day 723 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will