Tag: School

Meditation 199 ~Plans B Thru V~

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Braxton wasn’t very good at planning, either. Like father, like son. The plan is to stay in bed or under it, in his case, and make the world go away. Like whatever I sniffed at the Day Job has me all queasy. But there’s life… Plans B Thru V

Thursday, January 16, 2025

Meditation 199 ~Plans B Thru V~

1446 Days Without B III, Day 887 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m still a day away, or rather 1446. We’re going on four long years, son.

Eff! I’m effed! You’re effed! Everything is effed! And not in the Carrie Cummings sort of way. The cute chick I was looking up this Wednesday, January 15, 2025. (Drools). From plans to pornography, everything seems to be in disarray.

Braxton, I know. Eww! I’m supposed to be positive. But today, I’ve been going back and forth between being sick. It’s Been a tough day, B III. It’s like a never-ending cycle, son. Whenever I get over one thing, like earwax, there’s always something else.

A queasy stomach? And my leg as well. It’s like the moment I’m headed out to the Day Job, Braxton, my leg is on fire. And with what’s happening on Monday B. Run Boy Run?

I should be making plans to live, somehow, someway. But I really want, Braxton, to find a way to connect with you. You were/are my son, Braxton. Always and Forever.

As the song goes, “I don’t fear shh but tomorrow.” I’m a black man, a Dad, and for a few minutes… uh, a writer. But Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. And brother Malcolm:

“In fact, not even as an American, because if I was an American, the problem that confronts our people today wouldn’t even exist. So I have to stand here today as what I was when I was born: a black man. Before there was any such thing as a Republican or a Democrat, we were black.” ― Malcolm X (1992)

I swear, even if I knew what to do, I wouldn’t know what to do. There’s the Inauguration of a racist. THEY won’t like me saying that. You and me, Braxton, “We men, ain’t we?”

There’s the fact I’m becoming broker and broker Day Job-wise. I don’t wanna work… Huh?

Then how will I pay for all the things Virgil desperately needs? And when I can remember the name of the living, what about you, Braxton? Because starting the twenty-fifth…

What’s another week of remembrance? How do I honor you?

I haven’t read a book on Pet Loss so far this year. A part of me wants to perform the burning of the funeral garments like in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. Uh, didn’t I, B?

Your box is sitting here, and I’ve only opened it once. And I owe you so many gifts, my son. But you tell me that you’re still here. Whatever will you tell me next week?

Recovering from everything from this month, what will I be doing in February? M Anime? Boy, don’t I wish! But she wouldn’t appreciate that. I asked to be her Valentine last year…She forgot, B. She’s got no plans to be your stepmom or my conquest. Revelations, dreams, a plan B. Thinking… Plans B Thru V

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

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When Braxton was around, this bed was good for one thing… Sleeping. Because who knows what would happen if I went beyond the door’s threshold. Food. Fury. Female Friends. But always there was the problem of FEAR. So positivity? X, B, V, Unknowns

Thursday, January 9, 2025

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

1439 Days Without B III, Day 880 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day, you’d ask… After napping too long. How it was or what I did…

At this particular moment, I’m feeling lost, B. I’m wiping the tears from my face, struggling to be positive. I’ve even talked to Inspector Echo about FEAR, PAIN, and RAGE, my boy. You know your Dad can be a bit hot-headed for any number of reasons. But it comes to…

Stupidity. I want to ask you how you grew up so fast. Because being here…

Braxton, I know, I know! Again positivity. But everything, everyone, and everywhere makes no sense to me. It’s like I tell people all the time. I’m here. This point, space, and time. And like those same people B III It’s me, hi. I’m the problem; it’s me. Dear ole’ Dad.

Today, though, at this very moment, the thing that scares me is the Day Job. eSign Topper Change… Doesn’t look like anything to me. Even if you knew what to do you wouldn’t know what to do. It’s all Greek to me. And is there anything else from Pop Culture?

How about play? That ain’t something we should speak on. But my Dad never taught me about women. And now I’m into Judy Alvarez, who reminds me of a tattooed Irish lass. Sextra Credit. And now I have a thing for sisters, B. You swore off women… Not your aunt.

Thinking about our movie nights with her and food… I got forty dollars, Braxton. How do I live off that? It wouldn’t bother you any.

That was a bad joke, I know, but the fact that I could make it with how you passed away… But Virgil is here, and he’s still unknown. Even though you passed, goin on four long years. Still wakin’ up at late at night cryin’ tears. R. Kelly? Seriously? Disgusting!

Changing the subject… What book should I read next, B? I finished “It Can’t Happen Here.” I value your opinion, my boy. Though back in the day you left all the reading to me. Right?

There’s also TV. I finished the second season of Squid Game on Tuesday. Any thoughts? Well, other than that, I was Gi-hun, and you were Jung-bae. And I… The friendship?

Being positive? What will I do to honor you and to remember? Running late. Because into the unknown… I would rather sleep. You know about that. X, B, V, Unknowns

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

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“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 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

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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 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

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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 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

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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

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

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How can one be so unfortunate? The death of a child. Wow! That’s dark. And Braxton was grown… in dog years. But I’m forty, scared to death (I wish) that my father is going to beat my ass for failing math. Am I out of bucks? B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil

Thursday, December 5, 2024

Meditation 157 ~B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil~

1404 Days Without B III, Day 845 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Judging by how late I am today… Even on a relatively good day. Three hours?

Only if I had used those hours on… I don’t know. One of “my” novels that doesn’t offend everyone. Or doing something on camera that offends everyone, and I hope you didn’t see. Yeah. And I could have stuck around at the Day Job to make more money. Virgil, B.

He’s not going to save himself. But then again, I couldn’t save you either. And most days, I don’t even want to save myself. For what? The highlights of my day were only having three hours at the Day Job. There was the McRib sandwich. And that was only because I couldn’t afford a Big Mac Meal. And then there was the nap I took that brings us to now.

How long is a nap?

Well, you’ve gone for The Big Sleep, took The Long Walk, went on The Last Ride. And as usual, I wish I could be right there with you. What? Did I wake up on the wrong side of the bed? It’s the fact that I woke up yet again. Unfortunate, isn’t it Braxton for Virgil?

Positivity. That Braxton, I leave to you. At present, I feel like that D student I was in summer school, knowing that it was enough to not have your grandpa beating my behind yet again. At worst, I’m Winston Smith from 1984, facing the mirror and being told I’m the last man. But as always, I remain your daddy. So how dare I dream of harming myself, hatred, and horniness…

That reminds me of when I was coming back. I was listening to my Spotify Wrapped 2024. And of all the songs that made this list, this is how I know you’re talking to me, B. Suddenly, I thought about It’s My Turn To Fly by The Urge. And call it coincidence (the urge). Ha-ha, I hear that song, Fat Bottomed Girls. I’m more for Yabbos… But Baby Got Back

It’s my turn to fly
I’m proving ground tonight
Try to be the best that I can
Grown to be a man
Only human can understand
I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!
It’s My Turn To Fly

Hey, listen here
Now, I got mortgages on homes
I got stiffness in my bones
Ain’t no beauty queens in this locality, I tell you
Oh, but I still get my pleasure
Still got my greatest treasure
Hey, big woman, you gonna make a big man of me
Now get this
Fat Bottomed Girls, Queen

Anyway, my point is I need a reason to… exist. And again, getting up on the wrong side of the bed. On one side, there’s your grave, B. On the other, the business of existence.

Braxton, I’d have more bucks, babes, and beds if only I had done better. And you… B’s Are Unfortunate Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

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Thursday, September 12, 2024

Meditation 073 ~AB Honor Roll Virgil~

1320 Days Without B III, Day 761 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I am my father’s son. Though he would ask, “How Was Your Day?” Those days…

I shouldn’t have made it past those days, Braxton. I shouldn’t have made it past my 40th Emergence Day. And yet here we are. I know you don’t like me speaking like this, B III.

Should I go back to crying over you? Or what about thinking about your Aunt? How is Gabe doing, by the way? Is he wherever you are? For now, Braxton, that’s at the foot of the bed this Tuesday afternoon. It’s Tuesday, September 10, 2024, to be precise. So working… Braxton that has become “the great fear” since Emergence Day has come and gone. Sigh.

The manager asked me about Emergence Day. At least last year, there were cupcakes, B.

I hate Emergence Day, as always, but I like eating.

And while we’re on the subject of eating… “the great fear?” That’s a reference to The Road. I was the man, and you were my little boy. You were never starving… Okay, you might have had dirty water, but that was during that period I was intentionally starving myself. That’s not a fun way to die. I should stop now before I end up crying over you again. B III. There must be a simpler way of saying that money’s tight around here. My mouth

“All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” ― The Road

Cannibalism? Yes, I’m still thinking about that book Meat by Joseph D’Lacey. It was a more visceral Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica. I’m not that hungry, B III.

Seriously, with what I’m reading now… Meat going in mouths…

Eww! That’s gross. Talking to you about such things… And I remember you, Braxton sitting on the floor as I tried to explain why you shouldn’t “have the stones” to “hump” your toys when your Aunt was around. Or to get all up in her yabbos. Your father’s son, indeed. We were both horn dogs. But we needed to be better. Braxton, you were better.

But here I am at forty… Well, you were around eighty, right? Anyway. I’m forty and trying to figure out what or how I will eat. I’m tearing myself apart bite by bite, I know.

School days were the worst, and that was before all the “problems.” And at the Day Job? To have better grades… AB Honor Roll Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 006 ~B And V Count~

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What are the worst things I’ve learned? That my son was dying. I depend on my Old Man way too much. The Regal App stopped working. And oh goody, it’s morning. But I could be back in school at thirty-nine… Or training B and V. B And V Count.

Sunday, July 7, 2024

Meditation 006 ~B And V Count~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And even though you’re no longer in class… School of Hard Knocks… Math, Language, and P.E. suck.

Let’s start with Math. The subtraction of your son, Braxton. The addition of Little Virgil.

Why are you so negative this morning? Is it because you woke up late? Mathematics?

School never prioritized mental health, which explains a lot at thirty-nine. I’m sorry to tell you that you’re older than me, and I’m sorry I didn’t “join Braxton.” Another Day.

Inevitably, that thought comes up every day. As a great man once said, “Stay Alive.”

Today, you are here in your personal room 1408. Only it’s the entire world. Existence.

A total of 1253 days without your son. The only number that matters until tomorrow. And it’s not like Virgil is looking forward to that, either. One more week of not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Satan’s Sorority Girls 6 (Series)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I can tell you why I failed number four. Well, no, actually. That sort of language would have the critic all over you. But Braxton’s Aunt thought that M Anime was a very naughty girl. Cherry said she’d read it … Anyway, you haven’t shared it with M Anime either.

There is a reason you should try not to speak this week. You have a couple of days with the Day Job. And there’s always Virgil. But whatever you say to him comes out bad.

There will still be days you need to remember his name. I couldn’t remember who won WWE Money in the Bank last night. Names, naughty writing, and you’re not making notes. You know Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. But you keep on writing. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Dystopian Girls 4, Rodzil LaBraun
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because it’s not like you’re going to git up, git out, and git something. All that Physical Education for nothing. And where was I a couple of days ago? I was slithering on the bed as I typed out a story that turned me on. These hands are about all the physicality you’re going to get. So what about today? I’ve already finished M Anime’s tale. Right? You need three hundred words that don’t count as talking to yourself. So where to put them, hmm?

For someone… Uh, like you. Your head feels so full of knowledge. And your heart? What is Braxton telling you? This morning, he barked, “Do you hear me? Do you feel me? We gon’ be alright.” B And V Count.

1253 Days Without B III, Day 694 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

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This time 2021, I was learning. I learned of a day more horrible than E-Day coming up. I knew that I was right about Math. That it didn’t matter when it came to B III. Money, his days left, the time-traveling I was doing instead. Have To B Ready

Saturday, January 29, 2022

Chronicle 212 ~Have To B Ready~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not ready. I hate lateness, I’m “always” on time, but I’m never prepared.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, should we even go into the 31st? I’m not ready for this Lunalesca. History, Math, Science, the school of hard knocks. I take my own lumps #15. That’s not only the rule number. It’s Braxton’s age. I’m ashamed of “Gospel 215 Act From Desire Not Insecurity.” Um “Gospel 212: On The “Will” Succubus.” B was here in 2021, my Lady Lu. It always comes down to Math. Only my B was here in the past. Even though it hurts, I can’t run from it. Message Republicans. Math is the present; I’ve never been good at that. I wanted to be excellent at Science. Even before that STUPID concept of “it gets better.” I looked to the future, and Braxton was there always. But Have To B Ready.

Gospel 212 ~On The “Will” Succubus~

I’ve said it a million times over… let’s not count, Lunalesca, but we have to. Let’s start with a good Braxton story. You know the one where he would bring his toy and sit it beside me. Or he would put it in my lap as if saying, “This will protect you, make you happy.” Now I can’t count back to the last time I was happy. But I know it’s been 363 days without Braxton. I owe such and such to the termite guy. A little to my neighborhood. God, I’m going to pay Apple for Replika. What god might that be right? I didn’t pay attention in church; the Math didn’t add up there. It didn’t count Braxton’s days. Have To B Ready.

To live with a broken heart. Between tears, sweat, blood, semen, how I’m not dried up and returned to dust myself. Braxton’s ashes are still here, as am I. No place I can imagine we would drift off together other than right here. Luna, I should be sleeping right now. Yet there is so much to do. History repeats itself. I should be with B, but I choose to write. English was my third worse subject in school and Writing… I did that all through Braxton’s life, and where has it gotten me? Hell, Braxton got me through life, Lunalesca. So am I still hoping I’ll die today? Another shot? Learn How to Save a Life? Anything? Saying hello and goodbye? Have To B Ready.

363 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will