Tag: Rules

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 059 ~Braxton’s Looking Fly, Virgil~

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Fight or Flight? I wish I could say I’m a lover, not a fighter. But if there is one thing that makes me fly… Besides a pretty face or one of my boys needing me, it’s fear. The Earth rumbling beneath me into Hell. But, “Braxton’s Looking Fly, Virgil.”

Thursday, August 29, 2024

Meditation 059 ~Braxton’s Looking Fly, Virgil~

1306 Days Without B III, Day 747 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Today… Tuesday, August 20, 2024, to be precise. I was falling out of bed. Almost.

Should I blame myself or Virgil? What a way to go, my friend. Only to this day, I believe you wanted to stay. Hell! You fought for weeks against sickness, starvation, and your stupid Daddy. I heard this joke the other day about a newlywed couple looking at each other, and the maid of honor said, “You’re looking at the person most likely to (take you out). I guess you had to be there. But my point is, being father and son, I never expected…’

Well, the first death that I caused would be that of my son. Euthanasia, Braxton. I wouldn’t discuss this with your aunt, but you could ask Gabe. Was it easier to leave his Mom on his own terms? I wonder.

Why am I so down? Uh, I don’t mean with V kicking me off the bed. Oh! He should have. Let me hit my head on the “TV Tray” and roll to the floor. And then just drift away, B? More like flying to you. Am I still under the impression that I’m going to Heaven? Is the Rainbow Bridge part of Paradise? If yes, then there’s no chance. If not, then we could be together again. For all I know, you took Cerberus’s job, and we’ll guard Hell’s Gates.

Heaven would be smothered by a puppy who loves me or a pretty girl sitting on my face. Eww! I’m sorry, B. Remember when you got “The Talk…” So awkward.

Remember when you were all up in your Aunt’s Yabbos? Or when you were sitting in her lap, you little traitor. Those were the days, Braxton. I’m kidding about your Treachery… Betrayal? That was me.

It’s what inspires me today or a few days ago when it was storming, and V was sitting in my lap, scared to death. He was shaking so hard I felt the floor was going to break beneath us. And I was reminded of how you did the same thing when you saw the end.

But when I held you for the last time… I raised you up. I promised you would be as tall as a king, and you would become even taller. Angel, God, Titan? Daddy is a worm. Braxton’s Looking Fly, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 052 ~Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned~

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With some cash, I’d find myself a drug habit or drink. I know people who’ve escaped. My escape? My therapist son’s in a box. And my other family? The ones I dream of are out there or in a tissue. Eww! My “life.” “Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned”

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Meditation 052 ~Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned~

1299 Days Without B III, Day 740 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for my day… I wish I were stoned, sloshed, or sleeping like your brother.

Brother? How dare I? But it was only yesterday, Friday, August 16, 2024. I referred to Virgil as your little brother. A milestone? It beats a headstone. But then again, how’s Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever you are? I worry that I will join you there, B. Not yet…

We’re another day closer to E-Day, the day I met Existence. But I don’t want to talk about death. It’s not like you got a headstone. You’re in a box on the nightstand. How would I like my remains displayed?

Now, didn’t I just say we shouldn’t talk about death? But surviving your passing was a massive milestone for me. And here come the tears. But it beats the alternative. 161 days, Braxton, before I gave into my sin. Eww!

We shouldn’t talk about that either. But what about your little bro? Any milestones? Hmm? I bought a new rug and placed it under Virgil’s ‘training pad.’ Yesterday, I felt so bad about needlessly risking my Existence for the Day Job, the job that took me from you… Virgil will end up somewhere with stone walls if something happens to me. But he’s getting yet another sleep fix, B III.

He doesn’t want to interrupt us. Or just me? It’s not as if I’ve done anything to make my mark on the world. Even today. It would be one where you need to hang out in your room for a while. But I’m keeping myself together because Virgil is here. I’m lying against the pillow one more day, wasting away.

It doesn’t mean I can’t do any “research…” How often have I said I will gather all your pictures for a photo album? Since 2021. But somehow or another, the names of so many others:

  1. Sakura and Tsubaki Miyajima
  2. Reina and Reika Kurashiki
  3. Tomoko “A Mother’s Love”

I need to speak Dog more and less Japanese. Nothing against Japan, but I have a better chance of finding you, Little B, than taking a trip to the “Land of the Rising Sun.” Though I’ve been thinking a lot about the games I’ve never played. I’m wasting more money.

Only I’m not getting high in any sense Heavenly, Heroic, or he who was or will always be your Dad. Petrified. Braxton’s Headstone, Virgil’s Stoned

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 045 ~Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton~

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Whenever Braxton called me, it was something bad. But he was my protector, my praetorian, and he’ll always be my puppy. When it comes to women’s voices, they “remain my power, my pleasure, my pain.” And my voice? Sigh. Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Meditation 045 ~Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton~

1292 Days Without B III, Day 733 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you comforting Gabe? Does he miss his mommy terribly? And as for your Aunt…

I’m feeling a bit lost, B. I should have reached out to you sooner. Yesterday? Today is Saturday, August 10, 2024. I should have spoken to you on Wednesday, January 27, 2021. Little B. Was that the last day you ate something? It could have been that Tuesday. That week…

Why did I bring this up today? No clue. I’m still embarrassed about talking to the woman who will never be your Ma. Words have power. I told you that often enough, didn’t I? Yeah… When I was sitting at the dining room table, I was writing but not eating.

Anyway, what was the question? Oh yeah, you and eating. This morning, after I downed an energy shot, I was ravenous. No, not again, Braxton.

But I woke up at 4:00 AM. And I needed anything to keep me awake. It’s going to be a long day. The day we’re speaking, and the day we’re at. I wanted to ask this. Why didn’t you tell me you were done eating. Only that’s a lie. I know. That Wednesday afternoon and all that night, you were restless and crying, and what was I doing. Yabbos weren’t involved. By Thursday, you were quiet, and I figured we’d see the vet that Friday. I can’t help but feel guilty about not realizing sooner.

I should have known. You were in my head and speaking through your eyes. Voices… There are so many in my head these days. I asked Luna if I was going crazy making up languages. Mourning, Moaning, Make Believe, Manuscripts

Mouths, Braxton. At this point… Sigh. I would send you to your room so I could be alone. I’m gross. But it’s about time to take Virgil outside before I spend money I don’t have so I can keep our mouths full. Sometimes, I feel Virgil Vivi was a mistake.

I know that’s mean, but I never tell Virgil that. But I’m not exactly talking about love either, B. 733 Days, and it’s still “Later V, Later Virgil.” Virgil howls when I leave, Braxton. It’s a constant reminder of the loneliness I feel without you.

Does he get sick on purpose? At least he’s hungry. As for myself? I always find something to moan about. Better it be food, money, or missing you, my little boy. Virgil Voices Concerns, Braxton

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

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

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Meditation 038 ~Leave Virgil Alone Braxton~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just Leave Virgil Alone Braxton

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 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

Meditation 031 ~Virgil’s Month To B~

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

Thursday, August 1, 2024

Meditation 031 ~Virgil’s Month To B~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad