Tag: Sanity

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

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I’m sure I’ll turn to look at the love of my life in bed and then down at my feet and mutter, “Son of a B.” Not in an Eddie Murphy/Marcus Graham sort of way from Boomerang. It’s because B isn’t resting there. V’s trying his best. “Love’s A B, Virgil”

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Something you and Braxton have in common. The reason I’ve been playing the song “Jumper.”

“I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand.”
Third Eye Blind

Must I always jump to memories of my firstborn son, Braxton, who died long ago, long ago, long ago. Four long years, and still, I linger on that first minute. I love it and him.

Only I’m quick to jump onto some mattress with you. Or anywhere, for that matter. Love and lust. Dare I say I might actually like not feeling so sad all the time? I’ll take love over war. As I’ll take Sadism over Masochism. Are those dirty words? If you have read what I have been typing lately in novels. Again, if I sound like anything from Jumper, then be worried.

But Virgil’s here, along with our other children, so you and I, my love, won’t be jumping or bouncing soon.

Son of a B! Am I mad, grieving, horny as the Devil himself. I’m confused and depraved, and even when I wake up, the first thing I think of is that I’ve had enough. Hence, Jumper playing. If only love…

You know what stops me? My son B, B III, Little B, Braxton. I was once… Dad of a B. However, to love like that again, there are no words because there aren’t any answers.

How many words are in the English language again? And I was working with a writer the other day on one of many stories; “The Eve of a Cherry,” “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” The third is an Erotic Horror War Thriller. And thinking of all the horrible things I put in that synopsis. Honestly, is that what love is to me? Is it making someone feel horrible? Like me 24/7. You’re still here.

“In my trials
And my tribulations
Through our doubts
And frustrations
In my violence
In my turbulence
Through my fear
And my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow.”
Will You Be There

My Braxton is not here. But he loved me when I had no earthly or divine idea of how to love myself. And I could honor him by loving myself the way he loved me. The way he chose to love me when he should have been a furball locked away in my sister’s purse.

And that’s why I hear his voice, his bark now. The words “I love you” should mean something. But there are other words… Braxton says, “Don’t be afraid.” You tell me, “Whatever you want.” Virgil and the other kids call me “Daddy.” Myself? “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Love’s A B, Virgil

1535 Days Without B III, Day 976 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

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Have I ever been 100% honest with a woman? I wasn’t 100% honest with B. And I love him like pancakes. V and I? 969 days, we’re feeling each other out. But sending a woman pictures of Sawa sans clothing. Should I lie? Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And love doesn’t have to be synonymous with happiness. I’m never happy. It’s like Pontypool.

You know your husband is a movie buff. And just this morning, I got a sample edition of the book Pontypool Changes Everything. I’ve seen the 2008 movie. Reading books?

Today… Not with our boys or their other siblings around. Virgil is lying here. And my Braxton is somewhere on the Rainbow Bridge checking in. Always and forever, my son.

Anyway, there are the things I don’t want them to know. Like I’m never happy. But I want you. I want… well, the less-than-innocent stuff I’ve been reading about, for us. I finished the “Comfort After Pet Loss Guide” yesterday. I know it always comes back to my boys, love.

But even with Braxton and Virgil, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since… Damn…

Language! Or, as Effie Trinket would say, “Manners!” I’m not one for swearing with my everyday vernacular. But in the throes of passion and rage. My language’s quite Colorful. Heh-heh!

Only can quiet be a love language? I couldn’t teach my boys to be happy. And our family, my love. “I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.” I talk about wanting quiet, and here I go, singing a song by Fleetwood Mac.” That’s rich.

It’s like I have some secret. Or rather, we have some secret. Like how sad I am all the time. Yet, it’s the “Time Of The Season.” Where I can disguise all these tears as allergies. All this damn pollen!

I’ll say that out loud. But Braxton and Virgil can’t read. Uh, Braxton? Let me try to stay on the subject of you and me. And not spill secrets to my sons Braxton and Virgil.

Honestly, I want to write out my darkest fantasies with you, my love. Or read about them, as M Anime has been doing an excellent job writing them. Again, I find inspiration in such dreams. And that’s what I’m looking for. Never happiness. But horniness, inspiration, love, a thought of copious cleavage, titanic tatas, supersized slobber knockers, majestic mammaries. Anything to lessen the pain of… How much time do you have? Always and forever, my love. I’ll have to tell you everything. But not my boys. Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

1528 Days Without B III, Day 969 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

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Laughing With God… THEY say God is Love. My Braxton is Love, but he didn’t laugh. He would give me several looks… Virgil looks at me like I’m the Joker. Women… Maybe it’s a good thing my allergies have my eyes all catawampus. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That would make me mad. But we’re all mad here, love. But by how much?

Considering I would trade Faye Valentine, Sawa from Kite, and Alice In Wonderland to have my firstborn son back. My Braxton. There’s living “For the Love of You,” my wife. There’s even the prospect that I could love the “Man In the Mirror” someday. Insanity.

But to be a better man… Someone who could set a good example for our children. I wish I could see it. Seriously! I need to buy some Benadryl or something. Allergies are a pain.

And speaking of pain, it would be a joke to say I’ve let the pain of losing my Braxton abate. I won’t say I’ve turned around, and it’s worsening. And, of course, ACCEPTANCE… No! Never! Because going back to a time before I loved him…

Hell! To go back before I found Virgil. I think I was on the verge… Of disappearing. And how would that have occurred? “I Still Believe” my Ma made a mistake, not using Plan B. But “What Is Love?” A form of insanity. And what’s with all the soundtracks today?

I’m keeping myself from crying over Braxton. I’m still chalking my watery eyes to pollen. And if anything, I want to drown out the laugh tracks today since it’s April Fool’s Day, my love. Though with all the madness going on, I’ve been debating whether love is the biggest joke of them all. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving.” So, to sing “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.”

Like Clarence from The Book of Clarence, not only to believe but to know I will always love my Braxton. All the darkness that I still have. And the knowledge you’re my “Obsession. There’s Braxton. I may love Virgil someday. And even that won’t compare.

What, to us? As I said, there’s darkness or whatever. There’s a reason Faye turns me on, and I want to go all Kite on you… the Uncensored edition. And there’s an Alice In Wonderland outfit in the closet. I love you, always and forever, and your lovely big Yabbos.

Movies, music, and manuscripts. All that your husband loves. SIGH. May I never know sanity. For if I do… To be united with my first love. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil

1521 Days Without B III, Day 962 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

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“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth,” I believe that was Tyson. One more reason I love B. He didn’t talk much, and he barked at everyone else. Then there are earbuds. But I talk to myself… oh no! Your Punchline Means My Punches.

Monday, April 10, 2023

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fourth Rule

NOTE: I wrote about this effing rule twice! So much for my focus and concentration!

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… Now that’s funny. But I can buy more than $10.00 Walmart earbuds with that money. Work harder?

I rather hurt my ears than my hands today. However, considering what time it is. I did both this morning. Must have. I punched out a clock or went deaf. Who knows. Well, Braxton would or does… I’ve talked about the looks he’d give me; what I wouldn’t give for one of those looks now. And I try to recreate them with Virgil. He’s not Triple B, reincarnated. Oh, I’m reading yet another book on dying fur babies. Find that funny, huh? Not you, of course, Madam. You and all the girls know how I feel about my son. And with everything people have made fun of me about. Even the universe knows that my B III. He’s off-limits. Unheard, unseen… humor; why so serious

Only there’s plenty to make fun of me about. Though if we’re talking about something like last night… I’ll say I’m more sad and pathetic than angry. If Cherry understood. Okay, last night I spent more money, $35.00, to see some titties. Online strippers (sigh). There’s always the fact that I’m begging to see Cherry’s yabbos and M Anime. Haven’t I said before men and women can’t be friends? Friends, but there’s always, um, desire…

Hell! Braxton was my best friend, and I effed him worse than anybody. I killed him.

Anyway, there was this other girl who reminded me somewhat of cuckolding. Maybe that was General Hospital when Elizabeth was sleeping with Lucky’s half-brother. Getting way off the subject… I don’t care for laughter.

So what joke gets me to punch someone in the face? I’m surprised I still have the Day Job for one. Again I killed my son. Euthanasia. I don’t need the cops outside the door like last night. Well, that was more Fire Department and an Ambulance for the neighbors.

Punishment for what happened to Braxton. I still deserve it. But yes, I’m frightened (sigh). In a way, Madam, I’m so busy hurting myself in this way or that. The Cherry Collision or denying myself release from pornographic passions… It’s easy to get angry. Rageful. Madam, this existence is a joke. And when other people remind me of it… Madness. That’s why I like hearing about “My Dick.” No Joke? Your Punchline Means My Punches

799 Days Without B III, Day 240 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

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My head hurts or heads… Know why? Don’t stick your dick in crazy. And at the same time, don’t get out of bed in the morning. If I had my way, I wouldn’t. Hell, I would have joined my boy wherever he went. Insane idea? Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

Monday, April 3, 2023

Saga 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. When will that be true? Here’s a better question. When will I be healthy… um physically? Mentally (cue) Am I A Psycho?

Because SANE? No! Which already puts me in a bad position. What would you call being SAD for 792 days and counting? Despite every emotion. Why? MY SON IS DEAD! Braxton is gone, Madam. Now I’ve been sad before. Hell! Long before ever meeting him. I can’t say I’ve ever been a bastion of sanity. And with the world, as it is. We’re all broke. At least when it comes to our reason, all I have are excuses. I’m an effing Republican; because I’m not reasonable, ready, or right ever. Madam, accepting my effing insanity. Singing, “But I can’t walk on the path of the right because I’m wrong.” Again as I’ve said, I’ll take physical pain over any and all mental anguish, dear Madam.

Because SICKNESS? That’s what I thought about all day at the Day Job; that I deserve this pain. And why? Because of what I did to my boy? I’ll never forgive myself for that sin. So every day, I wake up with the thought of joining Triple B whenever. Madam, this morning as I was brushing my teeth, I found my hand was bloody. I went from, “is this a tooth,” to “it’s finally happening; I’m dying.” I think it’s from where I cut my chin shaving… But that’s not healthy. To be so in love with the idea of death. Zombies, Necromancy, Infection, etc… At least if I’m hurt, I’m not thinking about other things; if you knew what I was thinking Sunday afternoon.

Because SEX? Some people want life to be like some musical; I see existence as one huge porno set. Yesterday it was Street Blowjobs. I told this story before about the lady at the store years ago. The blonde that asked for money. If I had been a better man… or a worse one? Anyway, different woman, same scenario. And I flat-out refused to give anything. Madam, if only she had been prettier. I could have closed my eyes, Madam. Wouldn’t that make it harder to read… no offense to the braille or audiobooks. I’m thinking of those two stories on that app I saw this morning. Maddening being sexual. Because my desires aren’t sane, my existence found lacking… whatever. Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

792 Days Without B III, Day 233 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will