Tag: Rules

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

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

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Some people only seek out hate. Sadness makes it so I can’t breathe. Lust and Fear, too. Rage? I’m like a carrier of the “rage virus” in 28 Days/Weeks Later. But that only condemns me. And the ashes were once known as B. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

Monday, July 29, 2024

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… like choosing my fears over rage. I choose plenty over rage. But that’s the secret, like Bruce.

“I’m Always Angry”
The Avengers

You know one of the many reasons I envy my son? He’s dead. And don’t get me wrong, Madam. You can hate the dead. Speak ill about them and everything. But of everything I remember about my Braxton. I don’t remember the anger. And I was angry at him, sure.

But not once have I been angry about him leaving, as I told Dear Future Wife today. It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Anyway, I told her I was always angry at me, myself and I.

Again, every book on loss is against this. And I’m mad at those writers. But it doesn’t mean I go around burning books like some people. B III’s death is in the hands of two.

But more on that later. What am I mad about today? There’s been Humiliations Galore?

Which is why we’re talking today. Only what has me now this second? Existing, Madam.

Everything is falling apart around me, for starters. There was a storm. So, I need to check on the fence. A light came on in the car, so I must get that checked out. I mistakenly looked up appointments, and they’re already talking about five hundred dollars. No effing way!

That means I can’t risk ordering something. But “no worries,” Madam. I won’t let Virgil starve. And Virgil is as confused as ever, not realizing his business belongs outside only.

It’s not like I’m training him or anything. Locking him behind one of Braxton’s gates.

This brings me back to the one I hold the most rage for… Myself. And there are not enough words or time to explain why I hate myself so much. And joining my Braxton… sigh.

Okay. First is the euthanasia of my son. I blame myself and the other culprit… The Day Job. There was so much rage for and from those people there that I ignored my son. Then?

B III in a box on the nightstand. My rage burned my son to ash. The Hell within me. Rage!

I look in the mirror. Through a camera lens. Even my search history. For example, Pacifica Ocean aka Paz Ortega Andrade. That’s from a few minutes ago. Talk about fire. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

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

1275 Days Without B III, Day 716 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 024 ~Fur Armor, Braxton, Virgil~

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If I want to “pray” to someone who may or may not listen, I talk to my fur buddies. I only trust one of them. I’ll stop being so down on 2V. But today’s fear has me looking to the Spirit In The Sky… B III. Eyes on the road. Fur Armor, Braxton, Virgil

Thursday, July 25, 2024

Meditation 024 ~Fur Armor, Braxton, Virgil~

1271 Days Without B III, Day 712 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I was up around 2:30 AM and had trouble falling back asleep. Two guesses why…

Virgil Vivi, 2V. Not to be confused with 2B from NieR: Automata. I was more into Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi no Etude~ this morning. Too much information, right? B III?

But you know your Old Man. When it comes to the day of a battle, I rely on you, my boy, my Braxton, some girl’s boo… airbags. Or buying stuff. Retail therapy, you know, B. I need you, Braxton. Your support means everything to me.

Honestly “He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,” is rewarding himself a piggie potato. Hell, I’ll bring fries back for Virgil as well. Okay, I’m not promising that. The little guy has been less than helpful, seeing how I’m still thinking about beautiful women and filling my belly.

Even the Bible. There was that whole “Armor Of God” spiel. All I ever needed was you, B. You would stand in front of me, beside me, and have my back. You were there. But as the song goes, “I need you right here, right now. Right by my side.” And why is that? Well, you see everything from where you are. You remain my little guardian angel, B III.

Why do I ask? Sigh…

I’m going to the auto shop today at the dealership. And I am afraid B. To be honest, I’m always scared, but today, with everything that’s been going on… Do you remember those weeks when I would have a bag of pizza rolls to see me through the week? Of course, you always had your food. But this week, Braxton…

I didn’t even make 40 bucks. And now the car could need fixing. And the idea of driving so far, my friend. You’re going to have me looking up every movie on courage. Iron Eagle comes to mind. Again why:

“I’m right there with you, don’t forget that.” Iron Eagle

Everything happens for a reason. Though I’ll never say that about when you passed B. Now that made no damn sense. But humans rarely do. Especially your human B III.

Again, Virgil needs to be helping. But he’s a reflection of me, not a reincarnated you. Braxton, you’re… you’re what I aspire to be. Brave, bold, always in bed and burying yourself in a girl’s… yeah, you know. I’ll be brave. Fur Armor, Braxton, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

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Phone, Wallet, Keys? But there is money in the wallet. There’s “my” glasses. I look in the mirror, and… that’s uglier than what I put in “my” story. I’d be pretty enough with a dog like Braxton and a good girl. But “Money Is A Man’s Makeup”

Monday, July 22, 2024

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Much like Donald Trump’s face. You’ll have to forgive me. One more week of Trump pics… Eww! But what if I could break the rules that confine me, like the societal norms that dictate my actions, Madam?

If only I could be that much of a grifter. Or if I had thought to use my son, Braxton. I don’t share his and Virgil’s faces to make a buck. I shared Braxton’s pictures because I miss my boy. When it comes to Virgil, it’s so everyone knows that he’s still alive. A miracle?

Madam Justice, all it takes is money, and I had so much of that today, Thursday, July 11, 2024. So if I’m telling you that, by the time you read this, I’m out trying to make a lot more, Madam. And today, between Maxxxine, Moments of “Pleasure” and a Manuscript.

Madam, we’ll get to that. But my son and my boy, Braxton and Virgil. They’re not just my “sons.” They’re the only things that showed that I’m a good person…

But when have I ever cared about that? As I was watching Maxxxine today… Maxine Minx is an adult actress who wants to go mainstream and gets hired for a horror flick. I went in the other direction. I figured I could do poetry. And again, it wasn’t for money. It was to break free from the societal expectations that bind me. Vis-a-vis love, no…

Madam, “What you won’t do, do for love.” I thought to erase my face behind pretty words. Where did that get me? The Dean, the DEA, I’m sure “Beelzebub has a Devil put aside for me.” What I’m trying to say is this. If I got in trouble for words I thought were sweet, why not write the horrors, harems, and horrible desires? I could become the monster everyone sees.

But I could hide, become, and dare I say it? LIVE if I had money! Money is the root of all evil. So, let it grow all around me. My garden of Eden to shield everyone from The Tree of Knowledge. That being what I am. I’m starting to sound like one of those people.

Madam, in the end, we’re all hiding who we are anyway. Anybody with money is only prettying themselves up. But then again, Braxton and Virgil never have a dime, Madam. My boys are handsome. Only yeah, I’m paying their way. With what eighteen bucks? Ha!

The world is so ugly at the moment. Like my new manuscript and the software I got. My Glow-Up? Hmm. Money Is A Man’s Makeup

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

1268 Days Without B III, Day 709 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will