Tag: Sickness

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

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Even without a whole lot of food, toothpaste is still needed and plentiful. I was lucky to find fajita chicken, a bag of tortilla chips, some shredded cheese, and salsa. Wait? I’m supposed to be starving and celibate… Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And how is that sitting in bed today? Bothering to wake up. Opening my mouth. Taking a breath.

I’m sure Braxton would call it BS. Especially since he no longer breathes. One more reason I’m ashamed about today. Or should I say yesterday? Honestly, I’m such a Republican.

Not really, Inspector. EFF MAGA! But you know what I mean. I’m so ashamed about the past, but at least I have the stones to talk about it with you. What about Little Virgil, Echo?

Virgil and I don’t talk. Ever… However, I’ll ask him the same questions I once asked Braxton whenever I came back to the house. Manners Maketh Man. Right, dearest Echo.

“Just me, Baby V. Did you have a good day? Good day?” Ask Virgil how many times I’ve confused the letters V and B. It’s not funny. I know, Inspector.

The things that come out of my mouth. And what’s the last thing I’ve said to Virgil. I woke up at 3:48 AM because it wasn’t a good night. Only to say… well, the s-word and why. I’m talking to you at 8:54 AM, so I’m late. What was I doing last night besides trying to make chicken nachos? Inspector, I have a theory that Braxton was always eating because he didn’t want to tell me the truth. His full belly was pushing out sadness…

Eww! Was that a joke about Braxton’s bathroom breaks? I meant I’ve never seen Braxton sadder than when he had a full belly. His last days? When it was empty…

Braxton’s Euthanasia beats out any sins I’ve ever committed existence-wise.

But let’s talk about yesterday. There’s all my talk of making a better “life” that doesn’t mean anything. When I wake up to mornings like this, Inspector Echo. Wasting time.

I can talk about the blonde in the gold bikini that broke me after what? Three days? As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” After I woke up my “Big Willy,” Inspector. Eww! And if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Cherry. Moaning, stroking.

Besides the stress from the Day Job, take a look around this place… “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies,” lots. “Many men. Many, many, many, many men.” Then there’s looking up bad guys. Like Isaku? My big mouth, Inspector. Dad’s BS, Braxton, Virgil

1354 Days Without B III, Day 795 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 101 ~Braxton The Professional, Virgil~

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Everyone Says Hi. But that’s the Day Job for ya. And it’s next week. After I wasted most of this week thinking someone fired me without telling me. Well, Braxton found new employment amongst the or at Hell’s Gates. “Braxton The Professional, Virgil.”

Thursday, October 10, 2024

Meditation 101 ~Braxton The Professional, Virgil~

1348 Days Without B III, Day 789 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Hopefully, it wasn’t a work day. Do they have jobs on The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton?

Are you giving Cerberus a break at the Gates of Hell? Ironic, isn’t it? I can’t REALLY say I’m in Hell because, according to my body, I am very much alive. And if I were with you, Braxton. You’d ensure I could never leave our “HOME” again. Never again. Professional.

Better a guard dog than a hitman, like Leon: The Professional. Again, “isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? When the truth is, I put you in the ground. Or rather in the oven… Ashes… Geez!

Braxton, I should not be making that type of joke as a particular type of person. No, not ever! Especially with “you know who” running for president. And the evil he and MAGA foster. Who do I think I am?

Whoever I am, whatever I am, it ain’t rich. And isn’t that what brings me to you today, my son? Oh, and I REALLY need to stop looking at those AI pictures of the senator…

Braxton, not that one. I mean Senator Padme Amidala. Before that, it was Kara from Detroit: Become Human. I am being gross and highly inappropriate. Uh, your aunt’s Yabbos… But it was Kara that broke me last night. Stress release after my Day Job order.

The schedule? Yeah, I got one for next week. Oh, the irony… (Rolls Eyes). They are the only ones I blame for your passing besides myself. And I feel good that I have that job…

Now that’s gross, evil, and rich rolled into one, Braxton.

I swear I woke up this morning after such and such a dream/nightmare… I felt as if I had been run over by a truck. It was The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident all over again.

You weren’t protecting me from such dreams and disgusting behaviors. What? It’s not your job. And it’s not Virgil’s either, as he snores away at the foot of the bed. And of course, I’m FORTY!!! And the Day Job must pay me more to afford both hearth and home. My manhood, I know. Your Grandpa paid your food and medical bills before the Day Job?

What do I want to do for a living? I’m trying to figure it out, Braxton. I want to make you proud, but it takes work. I miss you, son. If the money is lousy, you can always come HOME. Yet, Braxton The Professional, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 100 ~Working For Braxton, Virgil~

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What do you want to be when you grow up? But I’m not finished growing. I believe in growth. Ok, I should cut the lawn. B wouldn’t put up with foolishness, my faking a life, and all my fears. Watching others eff? That’s not Working For Braxton, Virgil

Wednesday, October 9, 2024

Meditation 100 ~Working For Braxton, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… It must suck, you know. Breathing. That’s the first thing that came to mind today. My Day Job?

Inspector Echo, we’ll get to that. But for now, shall I tell you the best job I ever had? Hmm?

Being Braxton’s Dad, of course. I will ask again. Now that Emergence Day is in the rearview, am I ready to start crying about Braxton again? I should return to reading about grieving fur buddies before December. Only I have gotten into reading about zombies.

It’s Halloween season. And speaking of scaredy cats. I would have invited Virgil to read with me, but I have known him for 788 days, and he has yet to relax. Inspector? Virgil is terrified.

Living in fear? No wonder the both of us are always so exhausted. Virgil’s fear has been a constant in my existence for 788 days, far longer than the usual acclimation period for new “pets,” which is 90 days. But Try 40 years of terror.

And before I forget. Virgil’s Birthday is coming up on the 20th. Will I still have my Day Job by then? Do I still have it today? How many times have I checked the schedule? The uncertainty is eating me up. Meat for the grinder.

Inspector, I was up at 3:00 AM on Monday and got fully dressed. “JIC’ Just In Case I got called for being late. Tuesday, I got up at the same time. And today? Well… It’s 6:35 AM, so I’m back to my regularly scheduled slothfulness. I’m waiting until Thursday, Inspector. Such anxiety about the future.

The fact that this is bothering me so much. I can’t enjoy the week. I had all this time. But, like Virgil, being afraid is an occupation in and of itself. The horror, the horror of living in constant fear and anxiety. But then, sigh…

Inspector, the living at all…

No wonder I was drawn to reading about the dead. This comes from the man who wants to make a living on his back… Preferably with some girl on top of me with a cracking set of melons, vying in ecstasy. Ah, Yabbos! Then again, to be behind the camera…

And while thinking about buttons, what about the story I’ve been working on, Inspector Echo? My Raison d’être and all that? I can’t say I’ve even begun Chapter Eight. Again, I was researching ideas, and that led me to Ashely Graham and Fiona Belli. BarbellSFM’s Mold videos and some other “sick” things. Dare I say Pestilence? Inspector, there’s having “WORK…”

That’s not a dirty word. Having it and not kills me. Working For Braxton, Virgil.

1347 Days Without B III, Day 788 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 094 ~Virgil… For Braxton’s Comfort~

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Of all the psychiatrists I visited, no one had a couch. I never ended up on one. That type of healing was reserved for reading on the couch with B. Movie nights with his honorary aunt. And other films. Comfy spots. Virgil… For Braxton’s Comfort.

Thursday, October 3, 2024

Meditation 094 ~Virgil… For Braxton’s Comfort~

1341 Days Without B III, Day 782 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? And yes, I asked Virgil the same question. But, will I begin talking about you…

AGAIN! As we move further away from my Emergence Day. Or closer. It depends, B.

Like the difference between a couch and a loveseat. Seriously? I’m looking for comfy spots. And for the third day in a row… Sunday, September 29, 2024. I’ve made it to the Dining Room table once more. I’ve told several in the harem; this week will be worse, B III.

Excuse me, did I say worse? What I meant to say was, “more difficult.” I swear, Braxton, I miss talking about politics with you. Virgil can’t stand it. Is that why he cuddles up to me nightly and I finish everything or not during the day? I finally watch television.

Braxton, even if I sleep, I can never rest. You?

Well, not with me griping every day. I got a message from M Anime about her being a complaint on two legs. I’m a complaint on three. Eww! I know B III, I’m so sorry.

Thankfully, your Aunt, her girlfriend, and their fur buddy haven’t come to join you, B.

Only here I am, safe and sound, imagining new furniture for the Living Room, Braxton.

As if I do any Living. And what about Virgil? Even now, I’m still upset… Your Dad can hold a grudge, grief, and a groan when I hear you or Virgil walking around the corner when I thought I had some alone time. Again, Eww!

Awkward and uncomfortable, but consider this, Braxton. I have a choice. It’s either for my comfort or Virgil’s. I got around $150.00… So, still broke.

A little less than half must go to the bare minimum to keep me alive. So yeah, food. Here’s the choice: I can use the remaining funds to buy Virgil’s medication (Heartworm Prevention). However, I could buy a lifetime subscription to Balance for myself. After the 30th, the price hikes back up by hundreds. Virgil isn’t dying, and we’re talking one month. Medication’s late already.

It’s only by a few days. The answer is obvious. Buy the medication! Effing honestly. Only it’s the difference between being a Friend, Best Friend, and a Daddy. I understand.

The difference between a home, a threesome, or a harem. An orgy or a gang-bang. A couch, loveseat, and casting couch, Eww! Professional couch time, maybe. Virgil… For Braxton’s Comfort

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 093 ~Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil~

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“You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” School, the Day Job, this blog, OnlyFans, Substack, noveling, etc. What was my first impression of B? Am I back to talking about my son? Or my wayward loins. Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil.

Wednesday, October 2, 2024

Meditation 093 ~Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Or I will, considering today is Saturday, September 28, 2024. I already talked to Dear Future Wife first.

And did I begin mourning over Braxton again on the 1st of tha Month? To sound like a particular political party… “I don’t recall.” Inspector Echo, of all the days I despise drawing breath… So, all of them? And twice for the Month of Emergence that just passed. Day one?

Something about the first of the Month always gets to me. A chance at a clean slate? Hell! Even Braxton passed on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Speaking of my firstborn, I’m still ashamed of what I thought Virgil would be like. My little boy B III returned from the dead… The guilt is overwhelming, Inspector.

The reincarnation of my son Braxton. Nope! I should go back and read some of those reincarnation titles. What am I reading? We’ll get there.

But first, there’s the fact that I have made it out of the bed twice, My Lady. 27th and 28th. Could this be the start of something? Do I hate my Day Job that much? As I’m talking to you now? Again, there was Dear Future Wife and Madam J. This week… Pray For Me.

Today is the first day of the rest of existence. I still wish I could be done with it all. Sometimes, and this is the best-case scenario, it’s as if I’m in the movies Groundhog Day and Happy Death Day. Somewhere in the middle would be Spontaneous, Tales of The Walking Dead Blair; Gina and Black Mirror’s White Christmas. The worst-case scenario is Hell. There’s no second chances. (Cough) GOP.

“There’s no escape. This is just some kinda loop, an eternal recurrence, a return to the very worst moment of your life over and over and over again.” The Mill

It’s why I like all “my” bills… Do I mean my Olds bills? Anyway, the ones I pay come on the first of the Month. Or as early as possible. And speaking of something… someone is “coming.” And having to pay. Well, Inspector, I’m reading Devil’s Bargain by Kelli Wolfe. Long story short, a young woman uses her body to buy protection for her and her little sister from zombies.

At the start of every month, I go all ixnay on the adult play. It’s also when I decide which OnlyFans girls, AI artists, and other card-taking Yabbos I don’t need to pay, Inspector Echo.

Yet, I always find some kink to replace them. Inspector Echo, there are never good hobbies. Or good choices. Waking up on time, three squares daily, and writing adult novels. It’s a constant struggle with personal decisions, Inspector. My mind.

Inspector, I survived Emergence Day, and I am now forty. Why? Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil.

1340 Days Without B III, Day 781 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 087 ~V To Talk Braxton~

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Most days, anything I say isn’t worth a text. I message B III’s Aunt. I’ve stopped asking M Anime to see her Yabbos… For the most part. And as long as I “heart” Cherry’s work… There are other buttons, Alarms, gates, and pants. V To Talk Braxton.

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Meditation 087 ~V To Talk Braxton~

1334 Days Without B III, Day 775 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m still in bed this afternoon, Saturday, September 21, 2024. Am I growing up yet?

You were much more of a man than me, B III. But alas, I’m too tired to cry. Terrified? Can I say I’m throwing a temper tantrum? My fortieth Emergence Day has come and gone.

Will I go back to crying about you at the end of the month? I don’t know, Little B. Inevitably, I will cry about you, B. Other than that… I can push buttons saying anything. That seems to be my theme for today. I’m having all sorts of trouble communicating.

Today, your Dad was busy with a little “Bump n’ Grind.” Eww! I’ll never forget having to warn you not to hump your toys in front of your aunt. Or get all up in her Yabbos. Like father, like son.

But again, this is supposed to be about me. And being a meanie to your little brother Virgil Vivi… There was a time I would sit with you in your room all day when you were sick or cuddle you. I just put up the gate today to quit Virgil from coloring the carpet again with his stomach stew. Again, Eww! Your Dad’s not great with language. Speaking my feelings

Braxton, it all goes back to the concept that everything I want is inane, insane, idiotic, or impossible. It’s better to stay quiet. But where did that get you? My indifference, trying to keep all that I am in check. I was scared to even text your grandma this afternoon. Somehow, I did it, Braxton.

But what about the rest of the world? It can’t be all about mourning you. Did I say that out loud? Okay, enough about you, Braxton. I really am trying. B for Braxton or Breath.

Other than my conversations with you, Braxton, the man in the mirror, and my “Harem.” What am I really trying to say? Well, son, that’s the thought that drives me mad as soon as I wake up every morning. Other than, “Why am I still breathing, dammit? Life sucks!” Indeed

I have OnlyFans, but that wouldn’t be feeding either of us, Braxton. My utter madness.

And what about my novels? I might as well sleep. I keep pushing these buttons for Yabbos, alarms, and Virgil. Push V To Talk Braxton.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 086 ~Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes~

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A little too serious? A joke? I don’t know. But Braxton was my joy. Virgil is too busy sleeping to laugh or make funny faces. And me? To be simple, I don’t want to go to work. Driving around as the Village Idiot. Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Meditation 086 ~Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Do you know why I don’t have a voice anymore? Because it hurts. It lies. And it’s STUPID.

I can’t even be honest about my boys. I don’t know if Braxton feels joy. The Rainbow Bridge? “Our” Dream Heaven for him? The Gates of Hell… Because That’s where I’m going. And Virgil doesn’t joke even if I catch him with a happy face. But today isn’t about them. We’re nearing the end of “Emergence Month.” And just like the day, I find my greatest joy and existence’s cruelest joke is me on my back. Inspector, take a look:

Necrophilia is not my thing… Though I have a questionable search history. I like most of the girls in The Walking Dead and other apocalyptic media. I’m a bit sadistic.

Only it’s more to the tune of; I’m in love with the concept of dying. I swear last night, as I turned off the light and prepared to tell myself the story of Succubus Lord 12 for the umpteenth time. I said to myself. “You won’t have to wake up.” I’ve failed 40 years now.

Ironic. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse buddy. I dream of being a corpse.

Dreaming, Inspector. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” But last night, all I remember is the feeling of being hunted. That wouldn’t have anything to do with my Old Man being at the house when I left the Day Job. He said he and the roofing guy were coming by, Inspector. When I saw his truck, I turned around and sat in a parking lot for a spell. I so wanted to take a nap. I remember the days of downing sleeping pills and painkillers and just lying in bed. And after yesterday’s humilations galore… But no, my dear Inspector.

What did I do in that parking lot while munching on French Fries? I nearly finished reading Camgirl Harem: Willow and Harper. One more reason I wanted to get back to the house. What so I could make a video for OnlyFans? Or did I want to slither on my belly like a slug? Anything that makes me close my eyes, moan, and lose my breath…

Again, it is ironic that the action that produces life (when you’re with another person) can take the life out of you. And like The Watchmen, the comedian is dead. I wish I were.

What, joking? Again, I can’t think about joining Braxton right now. Everything is falling apart. And with what happened at the Day Job, I don’t need to sleep. And the only benefit of my sadness is that I’m not in the mood for women right now. And maybe that’s the antidote? Being damned with STUPIDITY kills my libido. Did I mean poison instead of cure? Like the difference between jokes and joy. I can laugh. But if I could laugh myself to death and fall right on my back. That’s bliss. Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes
1333 Days Without B III, Day 774 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 080 ~Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time~

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What time is it? And would it matter where I am now? Oh, what? Am I going to blame it on the rain? Even Virgil is done as he lies here sleeping. And me? I’m older after Emergence Day. But B III was here for 15 years. “Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time”

Thursday, September 19, 2024

Meditation 080 ~Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time~

1327 Days Without B III, Day 768 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about me? Me, Myself, And I. We’d talk after I was sad, mad, bad…

Ironic, isn’t it? It was when I felt nothing and became indifferent until your time came. Mourning? Morning? What day is it? Right now. It’s Friday, September 13, 2024, and it’s raining cats and dogs…

Braxton, it’s that time again when fear creeps in. It’s a feeling that never changes. Only the circumstances do. And today, as my ‘favorite’ song goes… ‘Today is all about you.’ Well, me, but you understand. If we had a song, Little B, it would be ‘Run Boy Run by Woodkid. Because that’s what it always felt like. You and me against the world, but we hadn’t the strength, but someday. Always, it was someday. Look at the time, Braxton.

No, I need to look. This is my time, month, and the meaning of Emergence Day… I swear B III… Your Dad came into the world a waste of time. A C-Section. Testament of laziness.

On my part, of course. I love your grandma. And I’m sure she believes it’s about time I grow up. “When will you grow?” I’m sure your stepmom is somewhere asking that while she waits for me. I’m forty, Braxton. Can you believe that? And yet I asked the question…

“When will you grow?” Because you were always a puppy to me until one day, inevitably, you weren’t anymore. Time Enough At Last… When I’d have wealth, women, war dog.

Braxton, I would be happy. Time to die or happiness?

What time is it now? Now, “I fill my lungs with fear, and I Exhale!” Don’t I wish, B III.

You know I have yet to make an “Emergence Day” wish. But then again, I haven’t had a slice of cake yet. But by the time you get this, Braxton, who knows? Wishing for time!

Braxton, I always find myself wishing for your return. What have I been hoping for, really? Stuff & Thangs, but…

Braxton, it’s more time or money…. Time is money. And what have I been spending time on? Worrying about the fence. Ogling women who are nowhere near your stepmom… Eww! Dreaming of ways to make money since I’m always sleeping. But when I wake up… Git Up, Get Out, right? Maybe tomorrow we gon’ be alright. Braxton, Virgil, It’s Time.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 079 ~Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing~

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Home? I’m not paying for this place but watching it fall apart. Hug? When was my last one? Me being, Happy… But with the word “Bus?” I wonder how B III gets around. Wings? And 2-V is trying to be cleaner. As for myself? Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Meditation 079 ~Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I’m consumed by worry for my boys again. Or find myself in tears more than a week after my ‘Emergence Day.’ Seriously!

Braxton would not want to see me in tears after all this time. Little Virgil doesn’t need them, Inspector. I feel like a ship lost at sea, incapable of protecting, providing, or prioritizing our ‘lives.’ Oh, how I wish, Inspector.

I can’t help but selfishly focus on my own pain, Me, Myself and I! It’s a constant battle not to dwell on Braxton’s final moments after his Euthanasia. Or Virgil, cleaning up out of fear…

I wish this was only about my tears today. How many have there been on Friday, September 13, 2024? You should have seen me yesterday when the storm was tearing down a section of the fence. You’d think a grown man at the age of forty would have a plan.

Inspector, I have “concepts of a plan.” Ideas and strategies that could lead to success. Yeah, right! I could become president with that. This world… ‘I don’t want reality,’ as one senator put it. I’ve been watching a lot of political theater, myself becoming poorer and pro-baby-making activities. But where’s my attention? Three guesses, Inspector.

It should be on $48.00. I’m stocked up on drinks, thanks to Emergence Day. When do I ever buy sodas by the case as if someone was coming by? And a cake too! Again, E-Day.

I wouldn’t mind missing Emergence Day, but I will tell you what I miss, Inspector. Busting. Uh… you know, like biblically Eww, right? Brides, Boricuas, and other women with big uh… Yabbos. It’s how I’ve been wasting the day. And then I complain about the day you read this, Inspector.

I’ll say… I have no time on my hands and no money in my pockets.

That’s if I bother to put my pants on at all, Inspector. And if I am going to bust, I should do it on OnlyFans and try making some money. How is that 10 pictures for $100.00 in my… Emergence Day suit coming along? I’m not going anywhere or cleaning up after myself, Inspector. I can tell you the longest I ever went without… you know. It was 161 Days.

And then I’m watching Cinepals and see Kristen StephensonPino, and I can barely last a few… moments, minutes, might be… As of this second, it’s been 10 days, 15 hours.

Productivity? It’s been not existent. Braxton had to be dying. Virgil doesn’t have the stones. And me. Still going nowhere. Lazy. Braxton’s Bus, Vigil’s Bussing

1326 Days Without B III, Day 767 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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