Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

“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~

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 180 ~To B Graded Virgil~

I can still be graded even if I don’t go to class. The School of Hard Knocks. Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life, as Prince said. And if I can get a D. Eww. I have mine. But existing… To B Graded Virgil.

Saturday, December 28, 2024

Meditation 180 ~To B Graded Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Then again, what were my grades in school? I remember praying for D’s. Eww! Seriously, Dude?

Don’t worry. When I broke my five-day streak last night, Lady Lunalesca. It was all because of a girl. That was one of the reasons I dropped out of college. Another was the humiliation from one of the professors… She forgot I was even there, Lady Lunalesca. Geez! But understandable…

And that’s not what I want to talk about today. Really? How about wanting to forget myself? And then I wonder why nobody knows who I am. If I excel at anything, it’s self-depreciation. I would get all A’s in that. Hurting, Humiliation, and Humor. And didn’t I say before the comedian is dead? No, that would be my firstborn son. And now I’m crying.

Over Braxton? There’s always a tear for him, but I’m tired for the most part.

Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic. Let’s start with Math. And having to go to the post office before it closes. That’s at noon. And then I have to pay a few hundred bucks, which I don’t have. And after that, I deserve a reward, haha, so I’ll get a piggy potato but with brisket. Oh goody, expensive. I’ll waste more money. And what about grocery shopping? I’ll waste another day in the cold because I couldn’t get up to go yesterday. Can’t get it up? Sigh

Lunalesca, didn’t I say I broke late last night looking up Stuff & Thangs? Like Michael Jackson sang, PYT. And sharing parts of Nightmare At The Meat Market on X.

https://twitter.com/WillsWants/status/1872992767225598448

Lunalesca? Now, I’ll start back at one. Like wearing pants…

Maybe if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been dumb enough to send M Anime Chapters 1-7 of Nightmare At The Meat Market. And what was that promise of 2:00 PM? And I couldn’t even keep my word. It was around that time, anyway. But when has my writing made me a dime, helped my doggy son, or been a delight? And reading. I’ve only failed one reading test, and that was in the 6th grade. I didn’t read the book, whatever it was, Lu, ok.

I must finish Fahrenheit 451, today. And then buy It Can’t Happen Here, the only book I haven’t read from my list. Would it be suitable for Braxton? How would he grade my existence after Christmas? To B Graded Virgil

1427 Days Without B III, Day 868 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

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~

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

Meditation 173 ~Braxton Tests Santa Virgil~

I keep saying it, I haven’t talked to *God* since Braxton passed. And it’s been way longer with Santa. But he seems to have a better record. But I’m not a kid anymore. And not much of a man. But what I want from Santa… Braxton Tests Santa Virgil

Saturday, December 21, 2024

Meditation 173 ~Braxton Tests Santa Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Well, if I were so, I wouldn’t need Santa. But I will always need/miss my boy.

Can enough money bring back the dead? With enough power, you change history, coughs MAGA. Is this a bad time? The wrong Time of the Season. Halloween to Election Day to Christmas, which is Wednesday. And here we are. Lady Lunalesca, besides 1984, which I’ll finish today. And Fahrenheit 451, which I bought last night; yes, you can blame MAGA for my research topics. I ask this question, Lady Luna. What do I want for Christmas? Is it three wishes? As I’ve said, my happy memories over the holiday season… are sparse. Did my Ma said pick five things or ten? Braxton lived fifteen years.

So, in the spirit of my B. Since I have no holiday spirit, And I rather not make men spirits:

Fifteen Things for This Christmas

  1. Braxton, alive and well
  2. That Virgil is Happy
  3. Be Not So Fearful
  4. Self-Control (Last Night 19th)
  5. To Stop Being Angry
  6. Be Elon Musk Rich
  7. A Kamala Harris Presidency
  8. The Annihilation of MAGA. And no more Donald Trump
  9. Control of a plague
  10. My own time machine
  11. Being a bestselling author
  12. To Be CEO of my company, Second Hand Shenanigans
  13. To find love and have a family. 3.5 Children
  14. Knowing what it’s like to LIVE. Not just exist
  15. Harems to be considered

My goals seem very attainable, don’t they? How much of that could Santa Claus put in his sack? It puts Santa Baby to shame, perhaps?

I still can’t believe I’ve escaped Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. It’s her annual payday, which would explain my bank account, Lady Lunalesca. But how’s Mariah looking nowadays? And for once, I don’t mean Momokun. And speaking of which, Effing HAREMS, how do they work. Since I’ve stopped reading about them.

What about Christmas, Lu? I asked for a Harem. Thirteen Women… One man in town:

No particular order…

  1. M Anime
  2. Cherry
  3. PiB
  4. Katieshox
  5. Tifa Lockhart
  6. God’s Favorite Princess
  7. Madoka Araki
  8. Maiko Kaneda
  9. Hisato Azuma
  10. Piper Niven
  11. Roxanne Perez
  12. Tsubaki Miyajima
  13. Airi Akizuki

And I don’t even have a tree. But something’s up… EWW! Braxton’s gifts were simpler, Lunalesca. Braxton Tests Santa Virgil.

1420 Days Without B III, Day 861 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

I haven’t read the books I wrote for or with my son in ages. And the book I’m reading now… It’s going to hurt. I’m preparing for the U.S.A. next year. Remember, Winston was thirty-nine, and I’m forty. No B III, no Julia. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

Thursday, December 19, 2024

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

1418 Days Without B III, Day 859 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday evening. And I’m still counting scars…

Well, different forms of PAIN anyway. Earlier this week, I discussed having a headache, bum ear, and aching leg. You can add a stomachache to the mix. Whether that’s from letting you down, thinking about tomorrow/today, or 1984… It’s all a mess, Braxton. The usual.

But it sucks even more when you know what’s going to happen. Only packing the car with your things hurts more than Winston and Julia being arrested by the Thought Police. That scene… I’m getting into George Orwell’s novel, huh? If I were, I wouldn’t be tearing up today. As always, Braxton, whenever something gets me upset, I think of the worst day of our “lives,” and here I am, still alive. But who knows what horrors tomorrow will bring.

If I were smart, I’d get the Winston and Julia arrest out of the way and focus on the Ministry of Love. It would prepare me for the Day Job. And if only I would publish one of our novels already. Tuesday, M Anime messaged me about, Nightmare At The Meat Market. I was so dedicated to it back in November. And how many stories did you watch me write that amounted to nothing? I last sat at the Dining Room table a few weeks ago. Or even sitting in the recliner reading while listening to some 1984 Ambience, B III. Again, I’ve been reading worse things. The bank account, pill bottles, and a grocery list. I swear that scares me more than my writing.

But what about Virgil’s story. Talk about the Ministry of Love. He comes scrambling out of your room like he’s seen a ghost… Did I say that, Braxton? You haven’t been haunting him as he’s desperate to get in here with me. If he knew how to use training pads.

You’ve seen that he does, but he won’t step into your spot, which brings us back to money and what I should be buying. No, not more dystopian books. Christmas, Harems, Pet Loss, Training, everything under the sun. Like me sleeping at noon every day? What about how to be a better parent? And you’re a Big Brother, aren’t you? But we are the dead.

Not me, but being so brokenhearted. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 170 ~There’ll B Suffering B~

I don’t think I ever told Braxton he was dying. Just that I love him. I never promised Virgil a happy life. And how many women have I ghosted on OnlyFans? What? I ain’t got no money! Only hurting myself or somebody’s pockets. “There’ll B Suffering B”

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Meditation 170 ~There’ll B Suffering B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And no, I’m not talking about sending explicit pics on OnlyFans. Eww! But we’ll get to that soon.

Today, you know what grinds my gears? PAIN. I’m in a little less PAIN than I was yesterday. And tomorrow? You know me, Inspector. Every time I fall asleep, my Christmas wish is I don’t have to wake up. I should work on my Christmas List on Saturday or Tuesday. If I can remember to do so. All I’m trying to remember now are the days without PAIN. And in Part II, Chapter IX, the place where Winston Smith and Julia are finally captured? Eff!

Gird Your Loins! Better yet, keep them in your pants. These days will be painful.

Inspector, nothing is as painful as losing Braxton. Or leaving Virgil alone wherever he is. Braxton’s gone, and I’m sure Virgil has his own aches and pains. I apologize, Inspector.

Only I’ll be doing that always and forever. When it comes to my boys. Sons? “As long as I’m alive, I’ll be carrying your name,” Braxton. That makes me more of a jerk, doesn’t it?

The whole “I don’t want to wake up on my own anymore.” But who could ever love me, Inspector? Well, besides Braxton. Inspector, I’m not going down the loneliness track.

Today, I was only thinking about men being alone… Not like that Echo. There’s Yabbos

Do you remember, girl? Michael Jackson, ha-ha! Anyway, I was compiling a list of men who were all imprisoned and ended up alone from different movies and shows, my dear.

  1. Joe Stevens
  2. Bingham Madsen
  3. #000000014
  4. Clarence
  5. Bernard Marx
  6. Savage a.k.a. John
  7. Winston Smith
  8. Jeffrey (A Different Alchemy)

All these men had families or at least women they left alone. They were all imprisoned in one way or another. Three of them passed… Crucifixion, Hanging, Gunshot. You get bonus points if you can tell me who. Anyway, I thought of what I said to Dear Future Wife yesterday about how I’m a sadist. And yet, in the end, I admire the masochist Echo.

I’m a mothereffin’ starboy. I’m more like a Switch. Happy Go Lucky Me. I’ll get off on people’s PAIN easily, but then there’s my PAIN. B III and 2 V are too much. And after…

I should add my voice to the choir. Sins, Screams, Silence… There’ll B Suffering B

1417 Days Without B III, Day 858 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 166 ~Braxton And Virgil Happily~

Everyone was supposed to be happy in the book “Brave New World.” And nobody is in 1984. Hell! I haven’t even opened the book, but I remember the words, “We are the dead.” No, that would be my son. And V has no balls. Still, Braxton And Virgil Happily

Saturday, December 14, 2024

Meditation 166 ~Braxton And Virgil Happily~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Would it make me happy if it were true? I don’t remember when I gave up….

The Dream: Happily Ever After

If it didn’t insult my son’s memory, I would ask for INDIFFERENCE. How Braxton Ended… It was INDIFFERENCE that took my son from me. I didn’t want to feel anything.

Because all I had during the last week of his life was anger, humiliation, and worry. And in trying to protect him, I ignored him, and then… Don’t I sound like I’ve been reading another tome on Pet Loss. Cherry and I had a brief conversation on book counts. I would rather be discussing body counts. Counting her as one of mine, but I digress. And also, can I stop being a creep. Anyway… I’ve read about eight books on Pet Loss, Dear Lady Lunalesca.

Were people happy or accepting?

This is one more year I’ve been neither. I won’t accept it. Hell! I gave up Madam Justice to allow my son to speak through me in the FIRSTBORN series. Or so I hope… Do you remember the tale, Down a Dark Hall by Lois Duncan? Something like that, Lunalesca.

And again, the word, happy. Like Love and Happiness. It’s like using the n-word in a song. It may sound good, but you know it’s wrong in the end. So am I saying music doesn’t make me happy? It makes me feel. And the problem is what I’ve been feeling.

Lady Lunalesca, at the moment, I’ve been feeling pain and tired despite pills and energy shots. And there’s my ear, too. I swear, Lady Lunalesca.

Despite all that, I Have A Dream. Less Dr. King, more Bing Madsen. The critic has been talking about my use of Pop Culture. And I am a Pop Culture Wh-re. Anyway, speaking of Bing, I mean when he was head over heels in love with Abi. My dream last night was all about Amy Jo Johnson, aka Kimberly. And my dreams before were all about Disney Princesses. Didn’t the princesses all get their Happily Ever Afters? But Kimberly didn’t.

I mean, not with Tommy. I’m always trying to make sense of my dreams. And here I go, reading another story about a young woman who’s no Disney princess. First, Lenina and now Julia. The future sucks. But leaving my boys Braxton And Virgil Happily…

1413 Days Without B III, Day 854 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

Global Warming, Climate Change… I haven’t worn a coat because I’m always angry at people. Or I’m humiliated. I should erase my browser history, etc.… I’m always taking the heat. And with what happened to my son. Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

Thursday, December 12, 2024

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

1411 Days Without B III, Day 852 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How many days did I come back burning up? Angry? Humiliated? Sick? Far too many…

And today? Well, your Dad’s no chef. I’m still burning money, paper, and sheets, Braxton.

I hope you weren’t watching that. And what about Virgil? He’s trying to get warm. All by his lonesome. And I’m crying, so I best not go outside lest my tears freeze. It’d be practice.

Do you know which is the coldest Circle in Hell? The Ninth Circle. That’s Treachery. Again, my boy, anytime I’m having a hard time, I remember what I have survived… I lost you, Braxton. It makes everything else pale in comparison. So because the Day Job burned me up, I could go for some tears. But what brought them on. A Dog’s Purpose, B III. Braxton, I’m not reading it… Again, I mean. Or watching.

At least if you were here, I wouldn’t feel as bad about burning daylight. Wasting my time. It’s so much better writing a novel about four individuals trying to set the world on fire. That’s one thing about never getting published. I won’t allow someone to burn my book. I should be so lucky. To earn a paycheck for doing something that I… Love, Braxton.

That’s one more thing that burns me up. My jealousy while watching all these dog channels. And watching these families become rich and famous. I hid you from the world.

However, I take a picture of Virgil every day. He feels the sunshine, sleeps in soft sheets, and stays warm… for now. Yet he wonders why I’m always so cold.

When I’m getting hot over every woman who’s not even close to being your stepmother. When I’m stewing over every mistake. When I know I’m cooked. And I can’t do anything to save myself or Virgil. I told myself at the Day Job that I thought your purpose was to get me into Heaven. If God smiled down on me for anything, it would be because I was your Daddy. Heaven’s Light in comparison to Hellfire. Yet, Virgil’s thriving, somehow.

He has to guide me through the Inferno. But where am I now? In some story awaiting the fire? Melting away on the floor? Sweating over some girl’s picture? Daylight is a wastin’ Braxton. And when the sun rises once more… Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad