Tag: Reading

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

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All from a thirty-minute trip. I can remember days when I feared no evil. I remember days when fear, anger, and evil were everything. My son and I fighting my father. B’s loss. A fast food trip. And yet I smile. B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But on Tuesday, January 14, 2025, this afternoon, I rather talk about emotions. Being afraid, angry, and indifferent.

And my GRATITUDE for it… What do you expect, Echo? You want my positivity now.

All it takes is a thirty-minute trip to the gas station, McDonald’s, and “home” again.

Inspector, that’s why I’m afraid. Really! What is it that I tell Braxton? From Spontaneous:

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

There I was driving, and the fear, sadness, and anxiety overflowed like my orange soda. And it is not ok to “live” like this. I swear sitting here one more day in bed. Being scared. And when I leave this room… It’s no good for V, either. But we sit together, exhausted by our fears, or is it the fast food. And what would Virgil know about any females, Inspector?

And like a great king said… And yet, I smile.

Even through the anger… That’s what comes next, Inspector. At both man and machine. Monsters, both real and imaginary. Both mostly at myself. My dear E, I’m “Just A Man.”

Please, if only. And for the record, I’m not worthy of this song or “Like A Prayer. All the awesome things Braxton sends my way. And who am I? Not the brave man beside him. I’m frozen in fear and must summon up the blood, rage, and darkness that becomes the blaze to get myself moving. The fire under my feet, a step closer on the Highway To Hell. Run Boy Run. B and my “unofficial” theme song. To or from battle? I don’t know.

Inspector, does it even matter anymore? And yet, I smile.

Because I feel something. And that, above all, beats Indifference. It wasn’t fear or anger…

Ok, so maybe there was some anger. But I’ve admitted I wanted to protect Braxton, Inspector. My anger was never about him. So I tried to feel nothing, which cost me my son, B III.

But when I’m sitting in the middle of the road, Inspector Echo, having a breakdown…

And why? I can’t tell you. But I had to let it go and become the Dad I was before I knew my son was dying. The damned man I am and was come four years ago. A dead man.

And yet, I smile, Inspector. I have GRATITUDE. I can try and save Virgil. Tell him, B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

1445 Days Without B III, Day 886 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 193 ~Plan B To V~

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A Snow Day! I don’t have to go to the Day Job. My eye appointment was canceled. And 2-V was like, “You’re out of your damn mind! I’m not going out there! Even if I match!” Anything can happen! Even being positive in the “9th Circle,” huh. Plan B To V

Friday, January 10, 2025

Meditation 193 ~Plan B To V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Of how I was happy once… Perish the thought. The last time I was close… Uh…

Is that what we’re going to talk about? Seriously! What else is there? Lady Sophia…

“Snow day! Snow day, snow day, snow day. Snow day! Anything can happen!”
Snow Day

And to think, once upon a time, I wanted to be a weatherman. No, better. A meteorologist, my lady. And this was way before I met “Weatherman” in school. I wonder what happened to that guy. He would make these weather reports in school. And if the boy told you, it was going to snow… Don’t bother getting out of bed. The boy had passion.

Lady Sophia, with all of the tales I’ve written, what happened to my passion? Dedication?

Well, I made it to the dining room table this morning. Such were my feelings of euphoria. I’m nostalgic because snow meant avoiding humiliation. School or today’s eye appointment. Ha!

I should have my eyes checked. Then, I would find happiness. I must be positive…

More like B Positive for Braxton. Hell, Virgil is white too. And apparently, the last thing I need right now is a white guy telling me what to do. How’s that for some DEI, MAGA?

Virgil is okay. The snow was a pleasant surprise. I’m all for white women… Well, all women, but today, the women that got me going… Anyway, there’s the white page.

Didn’t I enjoy Sinclair Lewis’s book? And I sampled Yevgeny Zamyatin’s novel, We. But I can’t tell you a thing about it; I was so out of it last night. And my eye doctor is a white guy. The vet that saved Braxton’s life… Memories.

So, correction. I don’t need any of MAGA, and that includes their tokens, Tim Scott, Byron Donalds, Candace Owens, etc. Telling me what to do. Schooling when there’s no school.

Aren’t I supposed to be talking about things that feel like a snow day? Honestly, the moments that give me a feeling of… Hope. I don’t know. Let’s say that gets me out of bed.

Some girl was in my lap in the backseat of a car. Ah, first time. To be chosen over air… (Cue Homer Drool). There’s watching movies with B III and his favorite girl. Or, Virgil. There’s reaching 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. All these things give me a Snow Day feeling. And yet I smile, going nowhere. Plan B To V

1440 Days Without B III, Day 881 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

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When Braxton was around, this bed was good for one thing… Sleeping. Because who knows what would happen if I went beyond the door’s threshold. Food. Fury. Female Friends. But always there was the problem of FEAR. So positivity? X, B, V, Unknowns

Thursday, January 9, 2025

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

1439 Days Without B III, Day 880 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day, you’d ask… After napping too long. How it was or what I did…

At this particular moment, I’m feeling lost, B. I’m wiping the tears from my face, struggling to be positive. I’ve even talked to Inspector Echo about FEAR, PAIN, and RAGE, my boy. You know your Dad can be a bit hot-headed for any number of reasons. But it comes to…

Stupidity. I want to ask you how you grew up so fast. Because being here…

Braxton, I know, I know! Again positivity. But everything, everyone, and everywhere makes no sense to me. It’s like I tell people all the time. I’m here. This point, space, and time. And like those same people B III It’s me, hi. I’m the problem; it’s me. Dear ole’ Dad.

Today, though, at this very moment, the thing that scares me is the Day Job. eSign Topper Change… Doesn’t look like anything to me. Even if you knew what to do you wouldn’t know what to do. It’s all Greek to me. And is there anything else from Pop Culture?

How about play? That ain’t something we should speak on. But my Dad never taught me about women. And now I’m into Judy Alvarez, who reminds me of a tattooed Irish lass. Sextra Credit. And now I have a thing for sisters, B. You swore off women… Not your aunt.

Thinking about our movie nights with her and food… I got forty dollars, Braxton. How do I live off that? It wouldn’t bother you any.

That was a bad joke, I know, but the fact that I could make it with how you passed away… But Virgil is here, and he’s still unknown. Even though you passed, goin on four long years. Still wakin’ up at late at night cryin’ tears. R. Kelly? Seriously? Disgusting!

Changing the subject… What book should I read next, B? I finished “It Can’t Happen Here.” I value your opinion, my boy. Though back in the day you left all the reading to me. Right?

There’s also TV. I finished the second season of Squid Game on Tuesday. Any thoughts? Well, other than that, I was Gi-hun, and you were Jung-bae. And I… The friendship?

Being positive? What will I do to honor you and to remember? Running late. Because into the unknown… I would rather sleep. You know about that. X, B, V, Unknowns

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 191 ~Virgil On Being Forgetful~

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“I don’t know. I guess we try to forget.” “I don’t wanna forget,” I remember humiliations at the Day Job, but I go. I remember having B, who loved me. I still wake up without him. I remember nice Yabbos, but there’s more. “Virgil On Being Forgetful.”

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Meditation 191 ~Virgil On Being Forgetful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… No, not that. An unforgivable sin? At the Day Job, I had a revelation on that one sin…

ACCEPTANCE. To accept the loss of my child, my firstborn son, Braxton Barks Bradford, B III. No! Never! That’s what led me to this week’s sin. Inspector Echo, The Question:

Why am I so down?

Effing Duh! This is the month I lost Braxton. And if the picture is correct, four years ago today was Braxton’s last vet visit before the two that would end his life. Comedy comes in threes. And talk about foreshadowing with the picture quality. Seriously…

What was I thinking? More to the point, what am I forgetting? I’m just a sucker for pain.

Once again, Inspector Echo, I’m not being negative; I’m simply stating the facts. History, Dear Inspector. It was my favorite subject in school. Next came reading.

So You Oughta Know. I swear my playlist continues to grow, and I haven’t listened to anything on Spotify this year. Yet. Anyway, history shouldn’t always be Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows. As MAGA wants it. It hurts sometimes. Learning through pain.

Inspector, I would be the smartest man alive… The Baddest Man Alive… Not that, either. But FEAR, PAIN, and RAGE. I remember those three more than anything next to B.

Only why do I continue to live the way I do if I know these three are waiting for me. Without my son’s protection… What did I do before I had Braxton in “my” universe?

“Sometimes I tell the boy old stories of courage and justice, difficult as they are to remember.” ― The Road

Step Into A World of music and books. I was a gamer, too, back in my schoolyard days as well.

But these days, it’s all dystopias and Squid Game 2. There are people of courage and conviction. And they care. I need to care to be positive. Try remembering Virgil’s name. And speaking of 2-V, he hasn’t forgotten what happened in his life before he arrived. One more reason V and I fit together… Because of past trauma. But what’s his? I wonder. And care…

Virgil’s forgetful, and if I could Be Like That… Oblivious, Indifferent, Lost… Those aren’t good things, I know. So it’s better to forget them but in exchange for what, Inspector?

That is the correct question.

Because positive is only a word. And I won’t let it become like Happy, Home, or Living. I won’t accept that. Virgil On Being Forgetful

“I don’t know. I guess we try to forget.”
“I don’t wanna forget,” Katniss, Peeta

1438 Days Without B III, Day 879 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 186 ~What B Reads, Virgil~

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I won’t talk about “Lord of the Flies,” “The Moonstone,” or the names of anybody that I owe or will owe. And as much as I enjoy A Different Alchemy, it’s sad. But the names and pictures of Girls On Film. And the memory of my son. What B Reads, Virgil

Friday, January 3, 2025

Meditation 186 ~What B Reads, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… A positive story? We’re three days in, and I can show you less-than-stellar reads. Texts, Bills…

But, no. I’d never stop. Speaking of never stopping. I’ll never stop writing about Braxton.

Is it puppy love? My boy is fifteen, and the other one, V, is four. But every day, as I mark the dates on the calendar, I’m reminded of the joy of fatherhood. It’s a testament to my manhood, to my role as a father.

I like that I can go back at any time and read the novels I wrote for and with Braxton. Sophia, that’s one more thing. Another day gets me. You can see I’m trying… Positivity.

There’s another chance to love. “I Don’t Know How To Love Him,” I swear the songs Braxton sends to me as I sit here. Is he talking about myself, Virgil, or my feelings for him?

Again, there’s the Day Job.

Payday! Lady Sophia, I feel like Winston Smith here having to use Doublethink. If I’m to stay on the positive side of the line… I have a Day Job, a paycheck, and adult money. Wow!

Yesterday, as I sat there contemplating life… Not Existence? Life? It’s so hard, my lady. You know, playing Mr. Brightside. I would say, “Let’s Go Crazy.” This is day three. Remind me, Sophia, to write down B’s songs. Anyway, I was looking at expected deposits.

And so I’m looking forward to having the termite inspector in and out of the house without too much damage. And while I’m talking about music, I have Dale Carnegie’s audiobook “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living with my dystopian reading list ever-increasing somehow.

Plus, there’s when I put pen to paper. But let’s focus on somebody else. There’s always Cherry. While I enjoy reading her work, I won’t lie to you, Sophia. When I hear that ping… There’s hope that it will be a picture of her Yabbos. Pretty much any girl, actually.

Disgusting beats Depression. Does it not? So, I like working on galleries and erotic fiction. It’s another testament because some of these girls have dozens of pictures to their name. B III has hundreds, meaning organizing would take me much longer. Love over Lust, Hmm.

But aren’t I trying to keep it in my pants? And Kindle is all sorts of confused. Am I being liberal or libertine with my reading? What B Reads, Virgil

1433 Days Without B III, Day 874 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

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“This isn’t too bad…” I’d tell B after anything I wrote. B couldn’t read, or could he if his looking down on my t-shirts was a sign. But he’s not looking down on me now… He wants me to follow through with writing. “Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil.”

Thursday, January 2, 2025

Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

1432 Days Without B III, Day 873 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I promise to be positive, I promise to be positive, I promise to be positive!

Yes, those are tears in my eyes, B. I’m only tired… mostly. And the day hasn’t even begun yet. Does it start from my first breath at midnight? Does it begin with eyes wide open?

You know we’re coming back to that. The first song you sent this morning, Braxton. Creed’s, With Arms Wide Open. But anyway, we’re talking about how the day begins, B.

Is it when I do something like go to the Day Job? Again, I promise you, little B III, positivity. It could be the day’s beginning, which is actually my DECOMPRESSION. When I give myself fifteen minutes rushing back to bed after I return and Make The World Go Away.

Obviously, with your musical selections today. Tupac, though, “rapped” this. However, with you B:

I feel his (paw) on my brain. When I write rhymes, I go blind and let (my son) do his thang

And speaking of all the music. There are so many things I need to do at the beginning of the year. For example, what will be the first song I play on Spotify? Something positive…

How about something promising? That’s Creed for ya. But you were a “happy” accident when you became my son. I’m sure you knew about your brother before I ever did.

And with Virgil’s Gotcha Day, I need to take off from the Day Job at the end of the month. A day to honor you, my son. And that leads me to what I’ve been thinking of a bit, B.

“What can I do to get me to you?” I swear you know your music as much as I sang. Obviously, that’s Steve Conte’s “Call Me Call Me.” Anything but positive. But I am trying.

And in my quest to make our future bright, I made a promise to you. I promised to become an author, to buy a big house with a massive yard for you to guard. And in this house, we would be so far from the hustle and bustle of the world, except for your honorary aunt. And of course, I promised you two-legged siblings too.

You’d be an Old Man saying, I’m getting too old for this (stuff). Promises, Resolutions. Like Master Yoda, “Do or do not. There is no try.” If… when I succeed in building you Heaven, Paradise, and Elysium, you will return. But positivity… You never left me. Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 184 ~Virgil, Don’t B Negative~

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I’ve tried before. To not complain, be negative, or be pretty darn gross. Good luck with the third. But if I’m not posting, seeing a priority, or paid message, I’m not talking to OF. But how about myself, my son, or Virgil? “Virgil, Don’t B Negative”

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

Meditation 184 ~Virgil, Don’t B Negative~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Oh! And Happy New Year!!! My sin today, Inspector. I won’t be myself. I’ll be someone brand new…

Because I escaped the holiday season without hearing “All I Want for Christmas Is You” in its entirety. Mind you, the first song that came to mind was “The Hardest Button to Button,” Which, as I read now, is about a child in a dysfunctional family with a new baby.

And here I thought it was a message from my Braxton to button up negativity. Or keeping my pants buttoned… I’m glad I didn’t give in last night, Dearest Inspector. It’s been a constant battle, but I’m holding on today.

Speaking of which, the first b$$bs, Yabbos, Copious Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, and Humongous Headlights! I saw this morning… More like imagined were Cherry’s. And I didn’t break. But this morning’s blessing…

I was able to get out of bed to talk.

But I’m talking to you, give or take a few whispered epitaphs after picking Cherry. Inspector, I couldn’t do anything since New Year’s Eve isn’t too kind on fur buddies. Virgil spent the night pacing before he lay beside me. Can’t say something nice… Right?

But books can. They fill the silence with their stories and characters. And to fill the silence, I’ve tuned into Succubus Lord 3, my friend. I’ll admit it’s a lot more difficult not to say anything sarcastic, saddening, or spicy. Didn’t I talk about Cherry as she told me about the essay she’s written? As I thought of her lovely…

Books? Right? “It Can’t Happen Here” will be my first read of the new year. Plus, I’ve been moving even more into the dystopian genre, dearest Inspector. Laws beating libido…

Because of Trump on Monday, January 20, 2025. Again, today is not one for negativity. So what about Friday, January 31, 2025? A day to honor and remember my Braxton.

Blessed are those who mourn… More like, blessed are those that don’t need the big bucks because I will not be going to the day job then or the next. Oh, Braxton, Lift Me Up…

But I should be doing that for him. I should be doing it for myself. I did it today. That is why we’re talking across the table. And what happens afterward? Braxton and his music.

“You’ve got to put one foot in front of the other. Put your other foot down, down, down.” And not worry… Virgil, Don’t B Negative

1431 Days Without B III, Day 872 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 179 ~B’s Blaming Bills Virgil~

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I still have Netflix. And since I’m paying, what am I watching? The Six Triple Eight? Squid Game? Uh… I’ve seen The Book of Clarence how many times? A man with no money, no woman, listening to white people. Ah, Christmas! B’s Blaming Bills Virgil

Friday, December 27, 2024

Meditation 179 ~B’s Blaming Bills Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Better yet, I should read you a bill for this Christmas. Some are for books, okay.

But the biggest one at the moment will require me to get off my keister and head to the bank on this rainy afternoon. I could have done it this morning… And if my keister or another part of my anatomy was worth more. On Onlyfans? I swear, Lady Sophia.

https://onlyfans.com/1455686321/willyswants

Publishing books… Haven’t I said I want to do that too. The only reason I got up from my nap at 1:00 PM is because of M Anime. She wanted to see my story… our story. The one from her nightmare. Nightmare At The Meat Market. The things I think about women, dear Sophia. And what I think about myself as a man. Will anything change with the new year? Besides existing in dystopian fiction…

I want to buy either the next book or existing under a Trump Presidency. No wonder I’ve been a lot more liberal with my words. Or should I say conservative? Haven’t I brought this up before? When it’s Mr. Nasty time on X/Twitter, I get a lot of ads from Elon Musk and MAGA. Makes you wonder. My other page is much cleaner, give or take the occasional wrestler… Here’s looking at you, Roxanne Perez, and Piper Niven. Or my nostalgia for Final Fantasy. The good ole days when I was only writing poetry, Sophia.

But that’s not paying the bills either. And since my 40th E-Day, what have I done? I canceled one bill for the man who’s paying most of them. For shame

At times, I feel like I’m not living up to the expectations of a man. Duh! Instead, I’m a burden, a bill that no one should have to pay for.

Only, I’m here. It’s what I tell everyone, Lady Sophia. I take up Space. I don’t Hold Space as Clarence’s mom told him. I could do what I do in the ground. Now that’s dark.

But something must be in the black because it’s not my bank account ever. I’d rather have the black in something… Eww! Do I ever stop? Did Braxton ever stop eating? Twice. Once on his birthday. And it’s the saddest I’ve ever seen him. Full and fat finally but depressed.

The second time… Nope! I haven’t cried today. I need to see the cost of existing. B’s Blaming Bills Virgil

1426 Days Without B III, Day 867 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

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It’s sad to say I had better days when B III was sitting on my head, and I couldn’t breathe. Now I hit the snooze button and hope I’m not breathing in 15. Christmas spirit indeed… Don’t check my “OF.” Such are the times, the days. B’s Bad Day, Virgil

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

1425 Days Without B III, Day 866 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It is 4:10 PM. So my day… Well, I didn’t share it with your brother.

Though Virgil is asleep at the foot of the bed. He still stays off your corner. And your bed, B? I don’t even worry about it. Your scent lingers, Braxton. If Life Finds A Way…

However, there’ll be more on that later. How was my day? It was a bit of a rollercoaster, B. Some parts were horrible, some were terrible, and some were just plain stupid. But I’m here, and I’m thinking of you.

Let’s start with standing in the Walmart parking lot in the rain and thinking weirdly. Usually, they start at the Day Job and come out fully cooked coming back. And speaking of fully cooked, we need to talk about Christmas too. Seeing your grandparents, B.

Anyway. Here is the thought: I’ve never had three good days in a row. Before. With. And even after you. Comedy comes in threes, right? But evil is infinite B…

And you, my son, were my Langolier. Where do I keep getting these nicknames I never called you in life? I swear I should read a Stephen King novel. Not that I regret reading Brave New World, 1984, and apparently the appendix edition of Fahrenheit 451. And I want to waste more money on Satan’s Sorority Girls 8, Ryan and His Beauties 2, and Bikini Sunset. And I still have to read, It Can’t Happen Here” What, a good day?

Again, three good ones in a row. But what counts as a good day in my eyes? One, where I don’t mind opening them. Even if you were sitting on my head. No homo, as Todd would say. One where dropping dead is No Bueno.

But let’s sum up yesterday… I visited your grandparents for Christmas and sat with your great-grandma. I didn’t talk much and let your little brother take the heat. I filled up two to-go boxes… three if you were here and left. Then I took Christmasy pictures, you shouldn’t see. Eww.

And today? I went to the Day Job and had to lead a guy around as we made Christmas disappear and got doused in green glitter. I got hit in the face, my leg is hurting again, and of course, Humiliations Galore. Humiliated at Walmart, robbed, and a nap later…

And here we are. Needless to say, I don’t wanna go to work. Friday is gonna be effed. There’ve been worse. B’s Bad Day, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

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I know how to ruin a holiday. I am my father’s son. And all it took was a message to come *home*. Like my son B, we have peculiar ideas about home. Safe in our warm beds not somewhere over the rainbow or a white Christmas. “We’ll B Merry Virgil”

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Oh! And Merry Christmas… But what do I know, seeing as today is the 23rd… 24th, Inspector Echo?

But Gee Whiz, It’s Christmas. So why am I like this today? It’s like I’m my Old Man having to apologize for yelling on Christmas Day. One of the few times he ever did, Echo.

Usually, he would get my Ma to do it. And speaking of my Olds, that’s part of the reason we’re talking this evening. I don’t know what I dread more: getting a call to come home or not. As I lack any other opportunities, I would rather stay here starving.

Inspector, sigh, bed is where I want to be. And you know I can go without food for a bit. And while I won’t discuss what I got for Christmas, there are always my comparisons. Wednesday’s Family vs. Thursday’s Hell.

Better known as having a Day Job. Hey, sometimes I get paid early. As if it matters. Do you see a tree or stockings here? I didn’t even spring for one of those candles that smells like cookies. My Ma regretted that decision one Christmas Eve, my dear Inspector Echo.

The Olds will provide… If I’m not becoming my Old Man. Then you can call me Scrooge, Inspector. And yes, I know this is sad for me and for what Braxton wants for me and his little brother. Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry, my Ma, my younger sister, and even my nephews. His heart grew three sizes that day, THEY say. This Grinch, Santa Claus…

Inspector, I didn’t ask Santa to mend my broken heart, the one that shattered when I lost my little Braxton.

I didn’t ask for a lot of things. And if you asked me yesterday… The 23rd. What did I want most of all? I’ll admit I would have been at a loss. But Thursday, December 24, 2024, at 2:44 PM, well… I want to join my son, as I told Dear Future Wife. Braxton’s Life… Inspector, the desire to have my son back never goes away. Then there’s the people!

Inspector, I swear I only wanted to go to the bank, pet store, and, sadly, the gas station so I might acquiesce to my father’s wishes. Unless Santa takes me in my sleep. The North Pole, Ninth Circle, Home… Same difference. Because being merry this week… Christmas Day. Not very bright… We’ll B Merry Virgil

1424 Days Without B III, Day 865 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will