Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

I did a few days in a detention center once. Don’t threaten people in print. OH! I’ve said things to girls… Uh, I know a few angry fathers. OH! Stay away from specific foreign contacts… OH! Why aren’t I the next President? “Virgil, B Not Embarrassed”

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Well, no, Inspector Echo, no, I have not. I identify as the billionaire white guy who became president.

Last night, I stood in the kitchen thinking of this house mess. As I thought of my son, who I took from this world. The boy that I treat with such… I don’t know what, Inspector. But it’s not that I’m playing the role of a Dad again. Didn’t I adopt Virgil? Expectations… Responsibilities… Sacrifices.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would fall short in NaNoWriMo. I’ve burned through the last of my cushion, leaving me with around 21,000 words. When did M Anime share her nightmare with me again? And when I wasn’t writing, I was preoccupied with building a harem. One Piece’s Nami, ‘Landlady,’ a few models and cosplayers. It’s embarrassing, Inspector, to admit these personal failures.

Not when the US elected Donald J Trump as President!

“By all that you hold dear on this good Earth. I bid you stand, Men of the West!!!” ― Aragon

This is not what Aragon meant. I’ve been standing this week, Inspector. Just being STUPID! A failure to this country. You know I have a guilt complex. Talk about representation…

But again, I was in the shower, and I was thinking about all the horrible things I say about women. But have I ever been found guilty of “SA?” Nope! But Trump can be president.

It’s that time of the year again when the Day Job hires certain types of employees. And I may not like it. But I don’t call people names. I don’t talk about camps. I don’t write laws to restrict their rights. Again, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist, dear Inspector.

However, America is not. Hey, I’m just a black man.

And I won’t say I’m an especially good one. I’m the guy who thought Whitney Wright’s “Prom Night” was a bit much. I know more models and European agents than I care to admit. And? B III rests in a box. Instead of feeling the guilt and shame of criminality,

Inspector Echo, I see the criminal who has risen from the ash. I watch the darkness descend upon this country and scream out. What’s My Crime? Any embarrassment? Some shame?

There are no such things if I were to run for office. But I respect women too much. I don’t demonize the poor. I don’t care who people marry. OUR kids should be educated, Echo.

Only This Is America. Eff TRUMP! Virgil, B Not Embarrassed

1382 Days Without B III, Day 823 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

Remember, Remember the 5th of November. I wish I could forget it. Hell! I don’t know what’s happening now. I’m avoiding X/Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere else. Reading about failing my son beats reading about failing my country. “Son Of A B.”

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What the Eff! Eff, Eff, Eff! “Eff you, eff you and eff you! Who’s next?” (Coming to America)

This Is America! And I am ashamed to call myself an American. That is if everything I have been seeing is right. Inspector Echo… I went to bed last night saying, “I don’t feel so good.” And this morning… Well, there have been tears. And that’s my crime for today.

Not one of them has been for my son Braxton. M Anime and Cherry texted and asked how I was feeling. I dared to say that this is reminiscent of my son’s passing. Can’t be

When I looked into Braxton’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I tried. I’ve done everything I can, but I can’t save you. Please forgive me!” Yesterday, I did my best, Inspector Echo. You know me. I’m an effing misanthrope! But I voted for the people who I believed would bring positive change. And now, I’m left wondering what will become of them and me, Inspector?

As I said, I did my best. But winners go home and eff the prom queen! Yasmina Khan, Jessie Rasberry, the Midnight Sleazy Train series and even Cherry’s melons… No prom queens. Though if I know MAGA and the dictator… excuse me, next president’s taste…

Inspector, that’s one more way I know this isn’t good. I had no desire when B was gone, and now? I feel sick to my stomach. I want to silence everything. And what I’m seeing…

SUCKS!!! Everything sucks! Does that include the book I’m reading? Like I said, Inspector, since I haven’t been “getting off…” No Nut November, Election News, and the nothingness I feel.

Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife. I was lost before I finally got it up to talk to you, Inspector. Any comfort?

Honestly, I don’t know. It’s kinda preachy. Kate McGahan’s dog, Jack, is preaching to her and all of us. But I can see Braxton saying some of this stuff as well. I am not a prophet or philosopher. Braxton is not the “Son of a Preacher Man.” But Braxton is trying… Faith, hope, and love

Inspector. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse partner. And we are on the verge.

Talk about “I saw the sign.” Or coincidence… It’s was the fifth of November. I’ve watched V for Vendetta reactions with Virgil/V. Waiting for what now. Son Of A B

1375 Days Without B III, Day 816 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

To save Virgil, I would have never come back. I would have picked him up, put him down, and pet the dogs next time. I could have saved Braxton if I knocked a lot of people to the floor. Saving myself? I don’t have a cape. “We’ll B Saving Virgil”

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And no, I don’t mean waking up super late. It’s 8:20 AM. Or looking at… sending dirty pictures.

SINS, nevertheless. But not REALLY bad ones… Must I once again return to what I did to my son? Not a day goes by that I forget that Braxton’s gone. Have I not given everything!

The only answer, “More, more, more.” And so here lies Virgil, my “second-born” son, who is very much alive and well, Inspector Echo. A four-year-old.

I ask myself, does he get jealous. As I sit here at the edge of” the bed… “Ooh, it makes “me wonder.” What? About all my pop culture references. Because the voices in my head…

Inspector, it has been a mess for a few days. And when I say that, I mean around forty years’ worth. Give or take fifteen years. Anyway. It seems Virgil is pushing me away from Braxton’s “Shrine.” I’m no hero.

Far from it… This leads me to my fourth greatest sin this week… thus far. One is Braxton’s passing. The next is waking up. The third is continuing to fail Virgil. He went from “I Believe I Can Fly,’ And “Fly Like An Eagle” to “Dear Heaven.” The music, sigh.

And in case you are wondering why I’m not listening to Lofi Girl. Well, I get a day off, and instead of being productive… Uh, you and me are talking. I look up such depravity.

However, yesterday, I was headed to the Day Job. Outside this house, I saw a fur buddy walking alone in the dark. Why didn’t I save him? Why didn’t I even try? You know why…

The DAY JOB, Inspector. Working there has taken so much.

I can’t save myself from that place. The DAY JOB, short of my own two hands, took my son away from me. And here’s a third life that could have been lost because of my inaction. When I came back, I saw someone had found him and was trying to bring him home. But what about me, Inspector. I could have done something, anything. Inspector?

I don’t have to be some celebrity, fad, or influencer. Talk about “Hey Jealousy,” Inspector.

I don’t have to be a best-selling writer. my writing Inspector… It’s so much worse.

Worst is being a man of inaction. GOP politicians, specific photographers, a budding career in por… being an adult. Villainy, sickness, whatever. I dream, though. Someday. We’ll B Saving Virgil

1368 Days Without B III, Day 809 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

Did I outrun love or did B outrun me? God is Love… My Braxton is Love. He nearly made it to 16. Virgil is a quarter of the way there at 4. But what am I really running my mouth about today? Drowning in emotion or an energy shot. I’ll B Running Virgil

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Like the MAGA hats, if I’m breathing, I’m lying. But instead of asking why. Let’s focus on how.

For the record, today is Saturday, October 19, 2024. (Record Scratch) “Yup, that’s me; you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Honestly? I downed an energy shot and decided to clean up Braxton’s yard. Shouldn’t I go start calling it Virgil’s yard? He turned four on Sunday. What was I doing when Braxton was that age? Sigh…

That’s the thing, Inspector. It’s not why I was his father. His Dad, but how. Don’t worry, your pretty head; we’ll get to females in a minute. Braxton found me. Love is louder and faster. Did I ever tell you I wanted to run track in school, Inspector Echo? Running.

I wasn’t in school when he found me, but he kept up. I carried him. My little boy B III.

Well, when he grew older. I’m never going to stop missing him. And I’m never going to stop saying how much being forty sucks. Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven… All the way “Back at One.” Again, Girls, Girls, Girls, comes later. But a couple of hours ago, in the backyard, much like at the Day Job, I started having terrible thoughts. “My future? It’s coming on, it’s coming on, it’s coming on.” And that means failure, fewer dollars, and the magic word, Inspector. FEAR! I’m awake because I’m afraid of everything. Everyone!

Echo, it’s all of the time. Ask me to name a fear off the top of my head. Water. Drowning.

I say I’m going to overflow like Mamimi Samejima from FLCL. And here we go.

If I’m not sweating because of some phantasm in “my” nightmares. Catching some form of the plague. Or doing public works. Uh, cleaning up the yard for puppies or neighbors.

Then I’m up because of my… A private part of my anatomy. Not so private for $5.00 or $100 for “The Full Monty” face and all. Pumping my life away. However, I wonder if energy shots REALLY help me push myself forward or if it is The Placebo effect. The constant questioning and self-doubt are a part of me now.

Whatever it is, Inspector, it has me at the dining room table and not swimming in sheets upstairs. And I can’t swim. Not without some pretty chick with giant floaties. AKA nice Yabbos. But somehow, Braxton kept me on solid ground. I’ll B Running Virgil

1361 Days Without B III, Day 802 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 341 ~Someone SHOE Me, Will~

One of the worst weeks at the Day Job and that is saying a lot but I haven’t walked out for good, no not yet. Only with all this walking, I have been doing, why couldn’t I do anything a bit more constructive. Someone SHOE Me, Will

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Log 341 ~Someone SHOE Me, Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and more than ever, I want that private beach. There are pictures of me on a beach, not that I was allowed to keep any of them. Don’t ever ask me why I have no good memories of my childhood. I don’t have one picture to prove it. Now I don’t mean to be so cranky this Thursday morn or however long it takes to have this chat. By the time you read this, one of the worst weeks of my life has ended. Hell, how do I even keep score? Yesterday (Wednesday), I thought, no one counts days in Hell.

Of course, that was at the Day Job, the SHOE department. Talk about the Law of Attraction. Was this me talking about feet a few days back? Knowing the schedule made me think about my feet. Perhaps I’m feeling, defeated, yeah, not funny, I know. At least My Dæmon took it easy on me this morning. No walk for him, and shouldn’t I be worried? He hates getting old, the rain, and that I’m not sharing. Okay, for the moment at least. Speaking of walking nowhere, how about all the marches, protests, and riots going on. Running for Amaud, Marches for George Floyd, and we can’t forget about Breonna Taylor. Being Black in America, Lady Luna is something. The thing is I have a hard enough time only being me.

Do you want to take a walk in my shoes? If the Day Job is any indication, I intend not to wear any for plenty of reasons. Again the SHOE department is nowhere I want to be, and neither is Home And Kids. I would say I’m sick of running away and trust me, I am. Yet I want to be like Shaka Zulu, in some ways mind you. I want to stop running towards my bed and start running towards glory. With all this NO FAP going on (16 days, 21 hr, 42 min, 50 sec), I should be playing twenty toes. I’ll even admit to enjoying a bubble bath with a good book. Nowadays, I put my feet up for ten minutes at a time to read Too Late by Colleen Hoover. It seems though I still can’t keep up, even with my time traveling ways, what’s today?

Walk With Me… no Lady Luna, Someone Shoe Me, Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 336 ~Fear Plus Hope Equals Courage~

Last week I said I barely notice the Coronavirus (COVID-19) anymore, and I’m not alone in that. Besides all the fears that come with being a black man in this country. I have to find the courage to even get out of bed. “Fear Plus Hope Equals Courage”

Monday, June 1, 2020

Log 336 ~Fear Plus Hope Equals Courage~

Hundred And Thirty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now… yep along with saying I’m hopeful. I’m sorry to say Madam Justice; all I have is the fear. Oh, and the lusts, I can’t forget about that. As the song goes, it takes two, but what do you get when you add terror and horniness? Isaku, Dark Shell, The Harvest Night? I would advise you not to look those up. So why even say their names, you ask me? Allow me this small luxury, it’s taking everything not to look at them myself, amongst other things. Tip of the iceberg I tell you but back to business.

I tell you every now and again, I am not a man of faith. At this moment, however, as the song goes. Please allow me to improvise, I’m a man of God with no need for saving. Hell, that’s the very first thing, especially with the current news, to live as I will, no allowance. From a concept to a prayer. For this week, I pray for courage not only for myself but for my son. He has faith I will return. You can even call it, hope when I tell him so. Through I shared fear sadly of the world beyond these walls, we combine our strength to survive. Madam Justice, I fear this entire week though, so wherein lies my hope. Dare I dream of my Six Impossible Things? Lies aren’t they, each and every week. I don’t hope I have good days. No, I fear that day when I’ll get myself fired.

So again, I’m looking for courage. Fear Plus Hope, but how about Purpose And Why. Here’s another song for you, Joy And Pain, as my aunt taught me? Here and now Madam Justice I am afraid, but I’m telling myself I will be better. Like at the Day Job last week, how I got birds slamming into the door now. How about the fact that my “father” is coming over? Fear can serve as great motivation, but it’s running with no destination, and your legs give, and you end up like me. Yeah, lying in bed, hoping that you won’t have to wake up tomorrow. What do I hope for, though, and that’s pretty damn easy to answer ahem WOMEN.

My purpose, but why? When can I tell the world that, to be that brave? Fear Plus Hope Equals Courage.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 334 ~Will The Track Star~

Didn’t I say don’t ask me about the Day Job? I asked the question, what would happen if I stood up? The answer, have a Panic Attack and run out the door. Is that what I’m calling it now, thank you WebMD because it beats cowardice. Will The Track Star

Saturday, May 30, 2020

Log 334 ~Will The Track Star~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how much is Usain Bolt making? I suppose I chose the right profession if I became the next J.K. Rowling snickers. How about E.L. James, Stephen King, Tillie Cole, or my latest “obsession” Eric Vall? Well, did I even write to Lady Sophia all that happened at the Day Job on Tuesday? Let’s see if I can DUMB it down. On Tuesday the 26th, I asked the General Manager what I should do? She told me to process Amazon Returns. Ten minutes later, I had a Panic Attack and left.

What did we say about checking WebMD? Hell, what did we decide on making excuses? The biggest question is, what am I going to do with my life? As the song goes, I can’t live my life this way. What, in fear, am I afraid? How come I’m scared so GODDAM ALWAYS! Pardon the language Lady Luna, but this isn’t like The Eve of a Cherry. Not like I kept track of all the F-Bombs in that. Speaking of which, it’s Cherry’s Birthday on the 28th. Only did I mention her in any conversations before this one. Happy Birthday, Cherry. There’s so much to keep track of, My Lady. That’s how I was feeling Tuesday. My emotions were shot to Hell besides my fear and my anger. It was like being back in school, and the two bullies have my cap throwing it between them. Yeah, so I like hoodies.

So how do I feel right now? Why don’t you tell me, Lady Luna, how one schedules a mental breakdown? Do I talk about today, being Wednesday? The rest of the week, or what should be Saturday? Now my stomach’s in knots, the week hopefully employed, Saturday angry. No wonder I’m so tired? During the day, I’m running, from my father, from the Day Job, and even my bed. Of course, I’m sitting here right now talking to you. You could say I’m living the dream, beautiful girl in my bed, conversation, a good song. Dreaming… I have to fill my head with everything from well all the above. Money, writers I’ve read, excuses, music, Jeff Daniels, birthdays, Bobby Hill, more. I track everything because, in my real life, we’re just Dancing In The Dark.

Or running my Lady Luna, wouldn’t you say. Tired, Scared of Will The Track Star.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 333 ~Will’s Soggy Runaway Letter~

A Twist With My “Anxiety.” Sorry that song Twist In My Sobriety has been playing in my head a while. I didn’t work at Arby’s or Wendy’s long enough to have a leaving song. With Target, it was “Marissa Flashback.” Will’s Soggy Runaway Letter in retail

Friday, May 29, 2020

Log 333 ~Will’s Soggy Runaway Letter~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be if this keeps up. Begin at the start, but you know I’m no one for writing rules. Okay, so today is actually Tuesday, May 26, so yeah, you’ll read about this, three days into the future. Do I even have a future… we’ll have to see sometime this week, won’t we? So I’ve never gotten around to writing a suicide note, never written a resignation. I’m sure it’s a sin I’ve never written a thank you card. There’s never a time right, or I’m always busy. Stuffing bags, balling fists, writing you.

It started with a written schedule, “Operations.” I have no clue what that is even after eight years. If anything, I wrote it off as an easy day. It wasn’t Home & Kids or Shoes. STUPID is determined to take the “Number One Spot” as the song goes. Now I was STUPID, which was enough, but I made it to heights unimaginable. I finished “organizing” bath towels and asked the General Manager where to next. Well, she said Amazon Returns. Oh, the things I’ve bought off Amazon, but I’ve never wanted to work there. The nice woman at the desk explains it to me and what happened next? Arby’s for one day, Wendy’s another, and Target, I absolutely refused. Lady Sophia, this is against every motivation, every speaker, and my life plans but ahem. I CAN’T breathes two little words.

Why not one word, ANXIETY. It was overwhelming Lady Sophia. Hell, I push buttons all the time like right now. With a push, I CAN build A Whole New World, believe in myself there. Blow it up if I need to, but in reality, all I did was run. As fast as I could go. However, there was also ANGER. I was DUMB enough to ask the boss a question. Yes, I do have a thesaurus My Lady, but that’s not the point. I stood there and let her say whatever she wanted. I sit here now angry for my running. Of course, I could go Fear leads to Anger. For now, I’m attempting to use the Anger to mask the fear. I’ve been trying for days but that cue Reboot song the FIREWALL came crumbling down today. In sweat, spit, and soggy rainy weather.

No tears, this isn’t goodbye but Will’s Soggy Runaway Letter.

To Will’s Most Hated Words:

  1. Stupid
  2. Skeevy
  3. Fear
  4. Anxiety
  5. Merge
  6. Happy
  7. Family-Friendly
  8. Just Kidding
  9. Tease
  10. Freak
  11. Lazy
  12. Sucks

I Will Have No Fear…

Log 105 ~Always Beware The Patient Woman~

If a woman ever asked me to get to the point, in my best Akon voice, I’d break out with, “You already know I want to…” (Language) yeah I know, but women have a lot more patience than I. “Always Beware The Patient Woman” plenty of fish in the sea

Monday, October 14, 2019

Log 105 ~Always Beware The Patient Woman~

Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now though it took patience. Only that’s nothing compared to some woman out there waiting for me to come and find her one day. Does that make me sound somewhat creepy, stalkerish, and skeevy? I’ll end up blocked again? Hell, I had a funny thought at Chick-fil-A only this afternoon. You think my views on women are complicated; I’m confused about chicken places. Anyway, I got this idea that I only want to make a woman happy someday.

You remember, well, I can’t say her name either, but I sought God to be with her at one point. It’s the reason now I usually ignore holy roller women despite the sex appeal. I don’t have time to walk the line between Heaven and Hell. I’ve already made my decision, depending on your viewpoint. I think that’s where women get it wrong, believing a man can change. Dennis Hof would say something to the tune of, I gotta be me, two read-throughs, and the audiobook. He told women the truth, and I do as well; okay, let’s not talk about Pinterest. Sometimes it scares me to death and others it knows me too well. Still, I talk about running all over the place for a woman, married, about to be. One more giving her life to Christ SIGH. Could it be I’m only trying to find her sooner rather than later, dear Madam Justice?

I’ve said so many times I want to be someone worthy, and that never matters to women. Looking in the mirror this morning I still saw my messed up teeth and bloodshot eyes. You were waiting for me to come and talk to you this evening. I missed another model, or at least she’s not speaking to me, but I wasn’t so excited anyway. At some point this week I’ll have to face my mother. The Prodigal son, yeah what’s my age again, though my Alamo fund is nearly zero. One more woman doing anything to make her happy with my trip. Only What I wouldn’t give to have some pretty “Taylor Townsend” looking me up. Oh yeah, I’m making that so much harder thank you, Facebook. I’m hiding until I find the courage, coming out of my cage, ha.

I want her to come with me now. Well, okay enough music, don’t you think. Always Beware The Patient Woman.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 009 ~Following Weirdos, Women, Willies~

For today I’m running from my writing though I have two thousand words down and I’m still a few days ahead of Camp NaNoWriMo, but I’ve wasted so much of my life, and B III should have better. Following Weirdos, Women, Willies

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Log 009 ~Following Weirdos, Women, Willies~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM A Millionaire right now, and anybody that earns it doesn’t do it by being a follower. Well maybe that’s not true, Dennis Hof studied Dale Carnegie. Hugh Hefner knew the times; Jimmy Stephens knew how not to stay in jail.

They say the meaning of madness is doing the same thing over and over. How am I expecting different results always Inspector Echo? I also heard that Hell is repetition. So two years and one-week blogging, where am I? I’ve lost track of how many novels I’ve written for NaNoWriMo. I go to the Day Job, no promotions, no “pay raise,” hell I might as well not have a penis. Speaking of which I’m still dealing with “A&W” at the Day Job. Last time it was Colin Kaepernick and the Confederate Flag. What about telling my boss to quit touching me; I was about to say something sexist about women. I’m getting a taste of what it feels like to be B III, led around on a leash, or following along. All I can think about is running fast, but how do you outrun life.

I should ask all those women that run away from me always. Basic Bitch, Okay, The Rainbow Girl, MILF Dos let’s go back further. The Harmonic War, Momma K, The Sweetest, D Is For Destiny. I’m still going to work on my Pinterest boards, more sections, and a new girl has her board. As the song goes, “running is the story of my life,” and if I’m not chasing some girl, I’m ducking the law. There have been accusations of being Skeevy, Stalkerish. Oh my “favorite word” in the English language, stupid. I smiled today and caught myself in the mirror. Positive vibes I know but I stopped grinning. My motivations say you don’t chase dollars; you follow your purpose. Sort of like Inception, you know, getting women to take off their clothes without paying. Let’s say like making more than I’m spending. Time is not cheap by any means.

Neither is Brainbuddy, paying for something I don’t even use. Did I tell you my Life Tree went all the way to being a stick because of my porn viewing? Hell if my Willy pointed anywhere profitable screw a million. Ten Million, how about a billion dollars Inspector Echo. So forgive me for following the likes of Oldje, Marz, Talin Shields, hell all of humanity. I’m Following Weirdos, Women, Willies.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuWvY81wasE

I Will Have No Fear