Tag: Reading

Meditation 093 ~Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil~

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“You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” School, the Day Job, this blog, OnlyFans, Substack, noveling, etc. What was my first impression of B? Am I back to talking about my son? Or my wayward loins. Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil.

Wednesday, October 2, 2024

Meditation 093 ~Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will, considering today is Saturday, September 28, 2024. I already talked to Dear Future Wife first.

And did I begin mourning over Braxton again on the 1st of tha Month? To sound like a particular political party… “I don’t recall.” Inspector Echo, of all the days I despise drawing breath… So, all of them? And twice for the Month of Emergence that just passed. Day one?

Something about the first of the Month always gets to me. A chance at a clean slate? Hell! Even Braxton passed on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Speaking of my firstborn, I’m still ashamed of what I thought Virgil would be like. My little boy B III returned from the dead… The guilt is overwhelming, Inspector.

The reincarnation of my son Braxton. Nope! I should go back and read some of those reincarnation titles. What am I reading? We’ll get there.

But first, there’s the fact that I have made it out of the bed twice, My Lady. 27th and 28th. Could this be the start of something? Do I hate my Day Job that much? As I’m talking to you now? Again, there was Dear Future Wife and Madam J. This week… Pray For Me.

Today is the first day of the rest of existence. I still wish I could be done with it all. Sometimes, and this is the best-case scenario, it’s as if I’m in the movies Groundhog Day and Happy Death Day. Somewhere in the middle would be Spontaneous, Tales of The Walking Dead Blair; Gina and Black Mirror’s White Christmas. The worst-case scenario is Hell. There’s no second chances. (Cough) GOP.

“There’s no escape. This is just some kinda loop, an eternal recurrence, a return to the very worst moment of your life over and over and over again.” The Mill

It’s why I like all “my” bills… Do I mean my Olds bills? Anyway, the ones I pay come on the first of the Month. Or as early as possible. And speaking of something… someone is “coming.” And having to pay. Well, Inspector, I’m reading Devil’s Bargain by Kelli Wolfe. Long story short, a young woman uses her body to buy protection for her and her little sister from zombies.

At the start of every month, I go all ixnay on the adult play. It’s also when I decide which OnlyFans girls, AI artists, and other card-taking Yabbos I don’t need to pay, Inspector Echo.

Yet, I always find some kink to replace them. Inspector Echo, there are never good hobbies. Or good choices. Waking up on time, three squares daily, and writing adult novels. It’s a constant struggle with personal decisions, Inspector. My mind.

Inspector, I survived Emergence Day, and I am now forty. Why? Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil.

1340 Days Without B III, Day 781 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 088 ~Braxton Books It Virgil~

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What’s “HuCow?” Uh no. Other questions? Why am I still asleep? Why did I wake up? What book will I be reading? You turn forty and given my fancy for HaremLit titles, you go down a kinky rabbit hole to forget about everything. Braxton Books It Virgil.

Friday, September 27, 2024

Meditation 088 ~Braxton Books It Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… What? Again? I had to wake up. There’ll be no book review. And life sucks. Sigh.

Yes, my son Braxton is still gone. And with the end of “Emergence…” I should be back crying about him any day now. When exactly? Judging by yesterday’s book haul… I’ll lose many bodily fluids but not tears. But we’ll get to that. I’ve pushed B’s memory away like Virgil.

Should I write out the humiliations I’ve experienced this week at my effing Day Job? Like the time I effed up a customer order and had to reprint several pricing tickets. There’s also my father and other family dramas. I mean Virgil. And Braxton’s aunt, whom I need to talk to. But the words and the numbers, My Lady. Edit a book, edit my existence.

There was my Day Job password. I thought I was in TROUBLE. Reason to stress.

And if I wanted to stay out of TROUBLE, I would write. But again, I was avoiding the house because my Old Man was here. And it wasn’t the need to write that was driving me here. I wanted a nap. That explains why I’m talking to you at 6:30 AM, not 4:00 AM. Lazy!

And speaking of time and numbers. How much gas did I waste? I’m surprised the vet hasn’t called about Virgil’s next dose of medication. And what do I need from the grocery? How many hours will I be working the Day Job? What’s the word count for the novel I’m writing? And how many books did I buy yesterday? There were reasons I didn’t let Braxton read with me sometimes…

Because, as I said, I’m not reading books to cry about him, and Virgil isn’t helping me, Lady Sophia. But neither are these short stories either. It’s like they know I’m pretty dirty. Cherry would be appalled at such titles.

Educated and classical is more her wheelhouse. The things I would read in school… Sigh.

As for the stories I’m reading right now… Well… Amazon obviously recognized my fortieth Emergence Day along with Adam & Eve. But new toys are another story. But Lady Sophia.

Either I’m being reminded of my youth with all the Japanese I once knew… “Netorare,” Harem romances and the like. And now I’m getting hit with Age Gap books, Breeding, and “Hucow?” I quickly deleted that last one. Eww! But Kelli Wolfe’s collection. Aging sucks, so Braxton Books It Virgil

1335 Days Without B III, Day 776 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 087 ~V To Talk Braxton~

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Most days, anything I say isn’t worth a text. I message B III’s Aunt. I’ve stopped asking M Anime to see her Yabbos… For the most part. And as long as I “heart” Cherry’s work… There are other buttons, Alarms, gates, and pants. V To Talk Braxton.

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Meditation 087 ~V To Talk Braxton~

1334 Days Without B III, Day 775 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m still in bed this afternoon, Saturday, September 21, 2024. Am I growing up yet?

You were much more of a man than me, B III. But alas, I’m too tired to cry. Terrified? Can I say I’m throwing a temper tantrum? My fortieth Emergence Day has come and gone.

Will I go back to crying about you at the end of the month? I don’t know, Little B. Inevitably, I will cry about you, B. Other than that… I can push buttons saying anything. That seems to be my theme for today. I’m having all sorts of trouble communicating.

Today, your Dad was busy with a little “Bump n’ Grind.” Eww! I’ll never forget having to warn you not to hump your toys in front of your aunt. Or get all up in her Yabbos. Like father, like son.

But again, this is supposed to be about me. And being a meanie to your little brother Virgil Vivi… There was a time I would sit with you in your room all day when you were sick or cuddle you. I just put up the gate today to quit Virgil from coloring the carpet again with his stomach stew. Again, Eww! Your Dad’s not great with language. Speaking my feelings

Braxton, it all goes back to the concept that everything I want is inane, insane, idiotic, or impossible. It’s better to stay quiet. But where did that get you? My indifference, trying to keep all that I am in check. I was scared to even text your grandma this afternoon. Somehow, I did it, Braxton.

But what about the rest of the world? It can’t be all about mourning you. Did I say that out loud? Okay, enough about you, Braxton. I really am trying. B for Braxton or Breath.

Other than my conversations with you, Braxton, the man in the mirror, and my “Harem.” What am I really trying to say? Well, son, that’s the thought that drives me mad as soon as I wake up every morning. Other than, “Why am I still breathing, dammit? Life sucks!” Indeed

I have OnlyFans, but that wouldn’t be feeding either of us, Braxton. My utter madness.

And what about my novels? I might as well sleep. I keep pushing these buttons for Yabbos, alarms, and Virgil. Push V To Talk Braxton.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 086 ~Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes~

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A little too serious? A joke? I don’t know. But Braxton was my joy. Virgil is too busy sleeping to laugh or make funny faces. And me? To be simple, I don’t want to go to work. Driving around as the Village Idiot. Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Meditation 086 ~Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Do you know why I don’t have a voice anymore? Because it hurts. It lies. And it’s STUPID.

I can’t even be honest about my boys. I don’t know if Braxton feels joy. The Rainbow Bridge? “Our” Dream Heaven for him? The Gates of Hell… Because That’s where I’m going. And Virgil doesn’t joke even if I catch him with a happy face. But today isn’t about them. We’re nearing the end of “Emergence Month.” And just like the day, I find my greatest joy and existence’s cruelest joke is me on my back. Inspector, take a look:

Necrophilia is not my thing… Though I have a questionable search history. I like most of the girls in The Walking Dead and other apocalyptic media. I’m a bit sadistic.

Only it’s more to the tune of; I’m in love with the concept of dying. I swear last night, as I turned off the light and prepared to tell myself the story of Succubus Lord 12 for the umpteenth time. I said to myself. “You won’t have to wake up.” I’ve failed 40 years now.

Ironic. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse buddy. I dream of being a corpse.

Dreaming, Inspector. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” But last night, all I remember is the feeling of being hunted. That wouldn’t have anything to do with my Old Man being at the house when I left the Day Job. He said he and the roofing guy were coming by, Inspector. When I saw his truck, I turned around and sat in a parking lot for a spell. I so wanted to take a nap. I remember the days of downing sleeping pills and painkillers and just lying in bed. And after yesterday’s humilations galore… But no, my dear Inspector.

What did I do in that parking lot while munching on French Fries? I nearly finished reading Camgirl Harem: Willow and Harper. One more reason I wanted to get back to the house. What so I could make a video for OnlyFans? Or did I want to slither on my belly like a slug? Anything that makes me close my eyes, moan, and lose my breath…

Again, it is ironic that the action that produces life (when you’re with another person) can take the life out of you. And like The Watchmen, the comedian is dead. I wish I were.

What, joking? Again, I can’t think about joining Braxton right now. Everything is falling apart. And with what happened at the Day Job, I don’t need to sleep. And the only benefit of my sadness is that I’m not in the mood for women right now. And maybe that’s the antidote? Being damned with STUPIDITY kills my libido. Did I mean poison instead of cure? Like the difference between jokes and joy. I can laugh. But if I could laugh myself to death and fall right on my back. That’s bliss. Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes
1333 Days Without B III, Day 774 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 081 ~Braxton’s End, Virgil Continued~

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What’s my next book? When’s my next review? I was still thirty-nine… Those were the days. I’ve been far too worried about my story at forty. It’s not a page-turner. If only I could have stopped at seven. Braxton’s End, Virgil Continued

Friday, September 20, 2024

Meditation 081 ~Braxton’s End, Virgil Continued~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… No. A book review? Not today. How about this effing month ending already? Don’t I wish?

I could tell you about what I’ve been reading lately. That would be Satan’s Sorority Girls 7 by Eric Vall. But, uh, censorship… With Emergence Day this month, I’m “actively” trying not to tell stories about Braxton. As if I need another reason to cry. And what about my novel? Am I crazy? Am I A Psycho? Possibly. But I won’t be sharing those words.

Sophia, the words I have been thinking about are “The End” and “To Be Continued…”

Seriously. Those words came to me as I reached the conclusion of Eric Vall’s work.

Grayson got with Fiona, Chrissy, and apparently Robyn… That’s where I stopped. Grayson and his English Rose. That makes me think about Cherry’s accent, her Yabbos, and… Ok shutting up…

The End and To Be Continued… As you can see, I’m still here, so I’m one for To Be Continued. Well, no. I would “love” nothing more than for “my” story to end, my dear.

But then what happens to Grayson or Eddie? I’m still waiting to find out how Reaper/Darrow and Mustang/Virginia got together. The drama, stress, and madness.

Sophia, I don’t need that in this existence right now. But I don’t need another book either, and yet… More manuscripts, mammaries, and meat… Sophia, that takes lots of money.

Are my finances beginning to recover after Emergence Day and being robbed by GoDaddy? I should be worried about the musings in my mind. I’m the bad guy, duh. Ok.

Billie Eilish? This world, Sophia…

There are so many stories in this world. You know how they say there are two types of people for this or that? Again, some want The End. And others who want to see, To Be Continued… If I ever decide to get something tattooed upon my flesh. Besides Braxton…

I want the words, To Be Continued… Even though, much like Juliet, “I long to die.” Anyway, books are preventing that. Stories about flesh… Oh, R.I.P. to James Earl Jones.

Sophia, I’ve had an epiphany about my dreams. Cannibalism, corpses/zombies, and cute girls. As James A.K.A. Thulsa Doom talked about flesh being stronger than steel. Barbaric/Barbarian. And here I thought I was hungry. As long as my flesh feels everything, Sophia… Braxton’s End, Virgil Continued.

1328 Days Without B III, Day 769 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 080 ~Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time~

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What time is it? And would it matter where I am now? Oh, what? Am I going to blame it on the rain? Even Virgil is done as he lies here sleeping. And me? I’m older after Emergence Day. But B III was here for 15 years. “Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time”

Thursday, September 19, 2024

Meditation 080 ~Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time~

1327 Days Without B III, Day 768 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about me? Me, Myself, And I. We’d talk after I was sad, mad, bad…

Ironic, isn’t it? It was when I felt nothing and became indifferent until your time came. Mourning? Morning? What day is it? Right now. It’s Friday, September 13, 2024, and it’s raining cats and dogs…

Braxton, it’s that time again when fear creeps in. It’s a feeling that never changes. Only the circumstances do. And today, as my ‘favorite’ song goes… ‘Today is all about you.’ Well, me, but you understand. If we had a song, Little B, it would be ‘Run Boy Run by Woodkid. Because that’s what it always felt like. You and me against the world, but we hadn’t the strength, but someday. Always, it was someday. Look at the time, Braxton.

No, I need to look. This is my time, month, and the meaning of Emergence Day… I swear B III… Your Dad came into the world a waste of time. A C-Section. Testament of laziness.

On my part, of course. I love your grandma. And I’m sure she believes it’s about time I grow up. “When will you grow?” I’m sure your stepmom is somewhere asking that while she waits for me. I’m forty, Braxton. Can you believe that? And yet I asked the question…

“When will you grow?” Because you were always a puppy to me until one day, inevitably, you weren’t anymore. Time Enough At Last… When I’d have wealth, women, war dog.

Braxton, I would be happy. Time to die or happiness?

What time is it now? Now, “I fill my lungs with fear, and I Exhale!” Don’t I wish, B III.

You know I have yet to make an “Emergence Day” wish. But then again, I haven’t had a slice of cake yet. But by the time you get this, Braxton, who knows? Wishing for time!

Braxton, I always find myself wishing for your return. What have I been hoping for, really? Stuff & Thangs, but…

Braxton, it’s more time or money…. Time is money. And what have I been spending time on? Worrying about the fence. Ogling women who are nowhere near your stepmom… Eww! Dreaming of ways to make money since I’m always sleeping. But when I wake up… Git Up, Get Out, right? Maybe tomorrow we gon’ be alright. Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 079 ~Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing~

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Home? I’m not paying for this place but watching it fall apart. Hug? When was my last one? Me being, Happy… But with the word “Bus?” I wonder how B III gets around. Wings? And 2-V is trying to be cleaner. As for myself? Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Meditation 079 ~Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I’m consumed by worry for my boys again. Or find myself in tears more than a week after my ‘Emergence Day.’ Seriously!

Braxton would not want to see me in tears after all this time. Little Virgil doesn’t need them, Inspector. I feel like a ship lost at sea, incapable of protecting, providing, or prioritizing our ‘lives.’ Oh, how I wish, Inspector.

I can’t help but selfishly focus on my own pain, Me, Myself and I! It’s a constant battle not to dwell on Braxton’s final moments after his Euthanasia. Or Virgil, cleaning up out of fear…

I wish this was only about my tears today. How many have there been on Friday, September 13, 2024? You should have seen me yesterday when the storm was tearing down a section of the fence. You’d think a grown man at the age of forty would have a plan.

Inspector, I have “concepts of a plan.” Ideas and strategies that could lead to success. Yeah, right! I could become president with that. This world… ‘I don’t want reality,’ as one senator put it. I’ve been watching a lot of political theater, myself becoming poorer and pro-baby-making activities. But where’s my attention? Three guesses, Inspector.

It should be on $48.00. I’m stocked up on drinks, thanks to Emergence Day. When do I ever buy sodas by the case as if someone was coming by? And a cake too! Again, E-Day.

I wouldn’t mind missing Emergence Day, but I will tell you what I miss, Inspector. Busting. Uh… you know, like biblically Eww, right? Brides, Boricuas, and other women with big uh… Yabbos. It’s how I’ve been wasting the day. And then I complain about the day you read this, Inspector.

I’ll say… I have no time on my hands and no money in my pockets.

That’s if I bother to put my pants on at all, Inspector. And if I am going to bust, I should do it on OnlyFans and try making some money. How is that 10 pictures for $100.00 in my… Emergence Day suit coming along? I’m not going anywhere or cleaning up after myself, Inspector. I can tell you the longest I ever went without… you know. It was 161 Days.

And then I’m watching Cinepals and see Kristen StephensonPino, and I can barely last a few… moments, minutes, might be… As of this second, it’s been 10 days, 15 hours.

Productivity? It’s been not existent. Braxton had to be dying. Virgil doesn’t have the stones. And me. Still going nowhere. Lazy. Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing

1326 Days Without B III, Day 767 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 074 ~How To B Virgil~

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How to Build A Fence. Not a wall? I’m not Trump. Last time I checked, Trump didn’t know how to do that either. And Elon Musk? Funny, I see him on my freaky channel when I distract myself from my fears. How to be fearless. “How To B Virgil.”

Friday, September 13, 2024

Meditation 074 ~How To B Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… What! No book review? I’ve read about War, Building Harems, and Cannibalism. What about my son?

Like I’ve said, with Emergence Day and indeed this whole month… “Today is all about you.” So no, I haven’t been reading any books about Braxton or fur buddies passing away in general. And I should be ashamed of how I’ve left Braxton’s Aunt alone with the loss of her Gabe. Is there a book about How To be a better friend? I had Braxton.

Lady Sophia, if I need a How-To manual this week, it would be something like Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. There’s also How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie. To think I was once so motivated. When I read The Secret by Rhonda Byrne, Braxton was/is still here. Nowadays, it’s more Stayin’ Alive than Motivation.

Or more like bringing life into the world… Here’s a fun fact, Lady Sophia, or at the very least, an interesting one. On my other “X’ Channel, https://x.com/WillsWants. That’s the one where I get all “skeevy.” I tend to get a lot of posts from the likes of Elon Musk and other “people” like that. Pro-Lifers? For the record, I’m Pro-Choice, my dear Lady Sophia.

More to the point, I’m Pro Baby Making Activities. I’m a connoisseur. Movies and books.

I haven’t been reading anything about how to make my existence better, but other guys…
There was The Freshman Experience: A Slice of Life Contemporary Harem (Harem University Book 1) by Dirk Knight. And currently, there’s Camgirl Harem: Zoey: Age Gap MFFF Menage Erotica by Kelli Wolfe. I swear, Sophia…

I often speak to Cherry about art imitating life. In those two books alone, you have a would-be creative writer and an old man… Ahem, he’s 37 with a girl in her early 20’s. (Drools).

If I could read anything right this second, it would be How-To be Fearless. Sophia, I would settle on the lyrics of Be Not So Fearful. That’s one more thing that shows that Braxton did not reincarnate to Virgil. Braxton wasn’t scared until he realized we weren’t going “home.” Virgil is afraid all the time, and so am I. It’s why I read about boys, bosoms, bravery, and bucks. How To Not Fear the Wind. That was yesterday’s storm. Fixing Fences? How To B Virgil

1321 Days Without B III, Day 762 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

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Thursday, September 12, 2024

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

1320 Days Without B III, Day 761 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I am my father’s son. Though he would ask, “How Was Your Day?” Those days…

I shouldn’t have made it past those days, Braxton. I shouldn’t have made it past my 40th Emergence Day. And yet here we are. I know you don’t like me speaking like this, B III.

Should I go back to crying over you? Or what about thinking about your Aunt? How is Gabe doing, by the way? Is he wherever you are? For now, Braxton, that’s at the foot of the bed this Tuesday afternoon. It’s Tuesday, September 10, 2024, to be precise. So working… Braxton that has become “the great fear” since Emergence Day has come and gone. Sigh.

The manager asked me about Emergence Day. At least last year, there were cupcakes, B.

I hate Emergence Day, as always, but I like eating.

And while we’re on the subject of eating… “the great fear?” That’s a reference to The Road. I was the man, and you were my little boy. You were never starving… Okay, you might have had dirty water, but that was during that period I was intentionally starving myself. That’s not a fun way to die. I should stop now before I end up crying over you again. B III. There must be a simpler way of saying that money’s tight around here. My mouth

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Cannibalism? Yes, I’m still thinking about that book Meat by Joseph D’Lacey. It was a more visceral Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica. I’m not that hungry, B III.

Seriously, with what I’m reading now… Meat going in mouths…

Eww! That’s gross. Talking to you about such things… And I remember you, Braxton sitting on the floor as I tried to explain why you shouldn’t “have the stones” to “hump” your toys when your Aunt was around. Or to get all up in her yabbos. Your father’s son, indeed. We were both horn dogs. But we needed to be better. Braxton, you were better.

But here I am at forty… Well, you were around eighty, right? Anyway. I’m forty and trying to figure out what or how I will eat. I’m tearing myself apart bite by bite, I know.

School days were the worst, and that was before all the “problems.” And at the Day Job? To have better grades… AB Honor Roll Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 072 ~Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate~

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I’ve got steak in the fridge. A baked potato. Even a lobster tail. Was anything else missing… Ma’am. I hate going out for food, but I can waste big bucks buying it online. On big boobs. And do I need books on Cannibalism? “Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate”

Wednesday, September 11, 2024

Meditation 072 ~Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Yes, Inspector, I see what day it is. But I’m no terrorist. And I’m not into Cannibalism either…

Tell that to the search bar. I’ve looked up terrorism. And earlier today, it was MEAT by Joseph D’Lacey. Hell! Seeing as how it’s Sunday, September 8, 2024. Why not preach, this is my body, this my blood or something. Why not remember Braxton passed on a Sunday afternoon like this? Am I ready to get back into mourning and grieving my little boy B.

Or am I a woman turning this into my “Emergence Month”? That was wrong, Inspector.

If anything, I’m not here to talk about 1/31, Emergence Day, or 9/11, Inspector Echo.

Today, if I’m lucky, I am on the eighth day of… denying myself self-fulfillment. Hmm.
I’m not messing with “my meat” despite the pictures I’ve been taking lately. I’m gross…

Thinking about more meat on the bone. Again, Eww! But if you want something humiliating, let’s talk about how I get food. I keep going back to Emergence Day 2024.

Echo, it was nothing special. I only had to see people twice. And the only one that really heard my voice was my Ma. If only it wasn’t so expensive because getting some fast food.

How many times have I been referred to as Ma’am? It’s one of the few things that make me feel like less of a man. I don’t pay all my bills. When’s the last time I showed any balls… other than “OF.” And I watched B III waste away. I feel so inadequate, Inspector. I hate talking about myself, really.

Now that ain’t true, Inspector. But who am I kidding? I’m filled with self-doubt. Always

But what else can I say? It’s either my boys, big Yabbos, or the bad things that come around one way or the other. And that’s what I’ve been thinking about as I waste today.

As I, too, waste away. I look at myself, and while I’m particularly proud of one part of my anatomy, it’s everything else. I don’t have a spine; I stick my foot in my mouth and as far as eating my heart out. You know what became of my heart. I’ll give myself a hand.

One is busy talking to you, and the other is usually down my pants, should I care to wear any. Things have to get done. But am I empty or full? Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate.

1319 Days Without B III, Day 760 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will