Tag: Power

Tale 226 ~You Never Chase After Opponents~

WillLeave a comment

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 219 ~Ideas Wait For Busy Hands~

WillLeave a comment

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 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

WillLeave a comment

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 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

WillLeave a comment

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 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

WillLeave a comment

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 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

WillLeave a comment

Don’t Fear The Reaper, indeed. At this rate, I would use him as a matchmaker. Or as the finder of lost children. Geez! Now that’s dark. But I’ve been looking for my son going on 1072 days now. The box on the nightstand? Meanwhile, what’s on TV? Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

Monday, January 8, 2024

Tale 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… (Shakes his head and shoulders vigorously and mutters “positivity.” Plays Fifteen Million Merits “I Have A Dream…”

You know me, okay? I have an utter obsession, fascination, and infatuation with the dead. Let’s leave the creepy factors out of this… Positivity. Now, first, I would say zombies. Madam, that was replaced on Sunday, January 31, 2021, with the death of my firstborn. After Braxton died, I thought of finding his reincarnation. Yeah, I’m still not speaking to “God.” But I’m not talking to Braxton through Virgil, either. He’s his own furry, ha-ha.

But after that. I would say, zombies. Being amongst the living helps me in noticing the dead. They’re my kind of people. That doesn’t sound very positive but look at it this way. If I couldn’t find my son in death, I’d like to come back as a virus, Madam.

Solanum, Wildfire, Rage? Some type of zombie virus. Hell! There are all kinds of death cults running around. One big one was on January 6th. But I’m not that desperate.

“People pontificate suicide is a coward’s act. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Suicide takes tremendous courage.” ― Cloud Atlas.

What I mean by this. To put it simply, I lack such courage. Yeah, and water sure is wet, too.

Now being the pop culture whore I am, I want to bring to your attention (sigh) the things I’ve been watching. The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, The Mill, and Fifteen Million Merits. Or namely, the characters Coriolanus, Joe, and Bingham. Here, you have three living men who do what they must for love and lose the life they believe they want for what? They die, or a part of them does.

“My old self. I killed him so I could come with you.” ― The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes.

I don’t know if I’m trying to live or die. Really. You see, I don’t particularly appreciate saying the word “live” because I only exist. Here’s some more Pop Culture for you: JSS Survive Somehow. Or Endure and Survive. My obsession with death is overwhelming and overflowing. No wonder I seek out life like the Grim Reaper or a zombie seeking out FLESH. That’s, without a doubt, one of my Twitter lives. And the other? Save the country. Then there are all the lives I write about that don’t live. They’re going unpublished. Today, I talked to Braxton’s aunt about my ghost dog and being Virgil’s friend. Father? No, Braxton’s Daddy died along with his little boy. Without a doubt. Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

1072 Days Without B III, Day 513 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

WillLeave a comment

Can I not be negative? If just for one day. With that rule, the list would be… a masterpiece. And how was today? Happy New Year. I was at the Day Job, and that took no love or skill. But being a writer or a Dad? Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

Monday, January 1, 2024

Tale 184 ~Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But not this one. I don’t think… Anyway, Happy New Year! Though it’s still New Year’s Eve.

Time-Travel? Madam, you know how they ask if you had one superpower, what would you choose? Comedy comes and threes. Necromancy, Time-Travel, X-Ray Vision. Invisibility if I had a fourth. Madam, you know why I would want to become a necromancer. Yes, it is a new year, or it will be in about twelve hours. And yes, I’m trying to… (grumbles), “Put On A Happy Face.” But everything comes back to my son Braxton. Cheers to a chance to tell his story and keeeping Virgil Vivi Bradford breathing. Madam, this brings up the subject of time travel. How could I have done better with Braxton? Or what about V’s future? With writing, I can see it if I keep my eyes in my head. Uhh…

Again, X-Ray Vision and Invisibility. My dear Madam. At times, technology indeed goes too far. Madam, have I committed any crimes in the new year? Let’s say speeding… Day Job. Which means I should focus on a real superpower I have. Writing? So I ask myself the question. Do I have the love and skill for it? It’s one of the few resolutions I’ve kept. Madam, it doesn’t mean I have that love and skill. And a masterpiece? Another resolution. But how do I accomplish this? My second superpower would be this Madam… choice. Yesterday, well, today, I talked about making DOA my first song of the year. Only there’s Weapon Of Choice by Fatboy Slim. Okay, so if writing is “my” choice, Madam. Um…

Masterpiece. I should keep repeating that to myself. So, to create something, if anything, in memory of my son. Now, last year, I would say, um, money, mammaries, and manhood. Even now, I’m having trouble stopping my hands… No! Not because of that, dear Madam. I mean with writing. Yes, tomorrow will be hard… Stop It! And I have to stay up until midnight anyway, as it’s still the 31st. Does that mean I have a love for the craft? Madam, with some love, is there any left for me? I want to do less on Monday, today, or whatever—the Day Job. And I wouldn’t be working it if I followed the rules. Hmm? Happy New Year, Day One. Love, Skill, Create A Masterpiece

1065 Days Without B III, Day 506 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

WillLeave a comment

Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

WillLeave a comment

Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

WillLeave a comment

What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will