Tag: Silent

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

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

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

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

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

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

Not when the US elected Donald J Trump as President!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 126 ~The Will To Vote B~

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Who will the president be Tuesday… Uh, a few weeks from now. Kamala Harris. But who will I become this Monday before the Election? And every Monday after. A lawgiver. My son’s voice. Someone better. A dirty old man. The Will To Vote B.

Monday, November 4, 2024

Meditation 126 ~The Will To Vote B~

Lame Duck Session Madam

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Goodbyes must be spoken. Elections held. And Sloth paid for. But here’s an easy decision. Kamala Harris.

Madam Justice:
Now, you are a much harder decision. I haven’t even decided on your Form. Final Form, right? We have gone through all the rules and then some. But knowing how I break laws… Yet, I believe in Dale Carnegie’s words in “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.”

“Order Is Heaven’s First Law”

Why should I mess up the universe I have created here with you? Plus, I’m lazy. And while this isn’t Heaven. I can spell out why I’m going to Hell. Because of Braxton, I know. But wait, there’s more, Madam.

Braxton:
My son says there is. Braxton would speak for me sometimes. And I for him. If I ever needed someone in my corner, the time is now. Only I would never do my little boy justice. I have yet to publish the book he and I wrote together. And letting a woman down is one thing. Not Kamala! Again, I’m voting for her. She needs to win. Braxton Barks?

Madam, it would be kismet. Braxton passed on a Sunday. So, to hear from his “spirit” on a Monday, considering…

The Substance:
Sunday, I’m ALWAYS so down on myself. I’m effing up my marriage to Dear Future Wife on Tuesdays. And while I know Braxton would be encouraging, there’s myself.

Madam, I’ve come to realize that I need to learn to be more positive and show more gratitude. Do you remember when I could watch the WWE? I thought Saturday, I can’t stand a whiny Superstar. And that’s all I do. Rant, rave, and complain. I was lying in bed, knowing I’d wasted forty years.

“This is simply a better version of yourself…” I wish.

Dirty Diana:
Now, she accepted me for who I am. And maybe I would be a lot more subdued if I wasn’t bothering all the others with my… longings… But I left her to talk to my son. And wouldn’t I be abandoning you because I want to be dirty? I’ll take an intelligent woman over one who is only beautiful. Uh, don’t I know women who are both? Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry. Still, it’s like something out of “Camp Hell” that “Demon Repression.”

Talk about “Sick Fux,” hmm.

But a voter. Kamala’s an easy choice. But being me… The Will To Vote B

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1373 Days Without B III, Day 814 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

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This isn’t a rule or goodbye. It almost reminds me of when my son died… almost. I didn’t command him to stay. And I told him it was ok. The game of life. What are the rules? To love. But after Braxton passed… My Existence… It’s Purge Night, Willie B.

Monday, October 28, 2024

Meditation 119 ~It’s Purge Night, Willie B~

There Are No Rules

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… And when there are no rules? I’ve worked through 365 or so. This is our last conversation?

We’ll get to that, Madam. Or I don’t want to… But I have a question. If you had one superpower, what would it be? Is it safe to deal with hypotheticals? Yeah, right, Madam J.

My favorite type of magic is Necromancy. But off the top of my head, I want to bring back my best friend, my son Braxton. If there are no rules, why not, Madam? Pretty macabre…

Okay, if I got to be me, why not X-ray vision? Women, sans clothing… It always comes back to that. And while I have yet to meet Jesus, I know plenty of AI programmers. But…

I’m no Smooth Criminal, so what about time travel? I’d take away Braxton’s old age. Make sure I wasn’t born…

How does it feel to write that down and say it out loud? I’ve never been one for “Ending” letters. My existence isn’t worth that much. The most I could ask is to erase my browser history and delete and/or burn all I’ve ever written, Madam Justice. The God-honest truth.

That’s why I won’t say what I’d do if there were a real Purge. Leave it to Trump, and it could happen. My RAGE at existing… Would know no bounds.

Honestly, the only “life” I have ever succeeded in taking is that of my Braxton. Euthanasia? What about other crimes?

You mean those of the Marquis de Sade, variety. Give me one word… AHEM, Sadism. Madam, I would need more than 12 hours. And I could even go all The Forever Purge with it. But we have one more word we must discuss as time grows short. This final hour.

Goodbye? I’m always learning something new every week. So why must this be the end?

I don’t think I even gave Dirty Diana that courtesy after Braxton passed. I needed to talk to my son. And she was the most expendable. Am I saying you are? It would be nice to have someone to talk to so every conversation doesn’t sound like effing wet dreams.

However, why talk at all? I could see if B would speak somehow, someway, someday.

If this is goodbye, Madam Justice, Let It B. Let It Go? Anything could happen. There Are No Rules. Goodbye. It’s Purge Night, Willie B

May God Be With You All. (Purge Siren Begins Blaring)

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1366 Days Without B III, Day 807 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

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

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 112 ~Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave~

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Aren’t dogs supposed to know the rules in 90 days? I don’t know how to “live.” I’ve been here 40 years. And how old is V? His birthday was Sunday. Yet he’s no prince. I’m no king. But our kingdom, our order… “Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave.”

Monday, October 21, 2024

Meditation 112 ~Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave~

What Rule Is This?

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… Or discovered. Sigh… I went over this in Meditation 105 ~Learn Something New Every Day~ I swear.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

I’m not even that much of a fan of Harry Potter. But, Emma Watson, AKA Hermione Granger’s face, legs, and yabbos… (Homer Drool) One more reason, I’m in trouble with all of “my rules.” Hmm.

What? That I can’t behave? When someone asks me, “Why can’t you just be normal?” Dear Madam? Why can’t I be a “Law Abiding Citizen,” Madam? “Why can’t you just be nice,” you ask? And how many movies am I going to quote today? Wednesday, October 16, 2024. And here’s another question. How many more rules will I… discover? Create?

Well, I’ll tell you, as of right this second, there will be a rule for The Purge. What about B?

Don’t hurt my son Braxton. Too Little Too Late, Madam.

And what about Virgil? He’s my boy too. But Dennis Hof had Domino Hof. Braxton and I were like that. Hell! I gave my son “The Talk” since he was all into his Aunt’s Yabbos. And that is why I can’t behave. Though Le Marquis De Sade articulates it better:

“Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.” ― Marquis de Sade

I’ve said that everything I desire is either inane, insane, impossible, or, at worst, illegal. Yet, I have a code by which I live. These rules? If I had the money, I would be the one, Madam, writing the rules. Again, here we are. But could you say that I follow the rules? I behave.

As Tony Montana said, “The only thing in this world that gives orders… is balls. Guts, green, and pretty girls.

I can’t even tell myself what to do, ok? Oh yes. A little boy living off my father’s cash, Madam.

But do you know why I want to behave? Because I want to be Daddy again someday. I may not have poured the Bisquick, but Braxton was/is my pancake. My son. I stayed out of jail. Like his Aunt, I practice “JSS” just survive somehow. And I toned down jettisoning any “white stuff” on some random girl. No, B III deserves a stepmom, dear Madam.

And while I don’t look a thing like Jesus, I need to talk like a gentleman. I need to build a Heaven before I invite someone to Hell. Phony, Manly, who knows. Just Be Me. Rules, Bendable, Breakable, Just Behave

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1359 Days Without B III, Day 800 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 105 ~Learn Something New Every Day~

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What have I learned today besides how badly I screwed up my rules? I learned it’s easier to get things done with energy shots. And that seventy bucks isn’t enough for a father and “son.” Yes, Virgil’s eating. To exist? “Learn Something New Every Day”

Monday, October 14, 2024

Meditation 105 ~Learn Something New Every Day~

Three-Hundredth And Sixty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice,
Rules are made to be broken… But I will follow this one today, Friday, October 11, 2024. How…

There have been moments of confusion, of learning that I was wrong. But I’m here, hoping to make amends, to set things right somehow, Madam.

“But it is not this day.” “I have served. I will be of service,” to no one but myself, Madam.

Oh! And my little boys. My son, Braxton. I learn every day that he is no longer here with me. But while I’m awake and alive, quoting the likes of Aragorn, John Wick, and Peter Gabriel. What else have I been doing? Well, as I said, I’m doing research. Learning…

  1. I intended to make rules for ‘my existence’ in the likes of Zombieland or Lefler’s Laws. These rules were meant to guide my actions and decisions, with one rule for every day of the year. Unlike Trump, I prefer not to lie, especially when it’s avoidable. I live for the memory of my son, but death is ALWAYS preferable for me.
  2. I have learned so many new things with Braxton’s passing. Each of these lessons, symbolized by the 365 rules, has been a significant part of my journey towards understanding. Never acceptance.
  3. I learned that Rule Twenty-Nine, “Lesson 296 ~Heavenly Trip, Save A Seat~,” was counted as a Man In The Mirror conversation and wasn’t correctly sent to you, Madam.
  4. Rule 79, “Episode 288 ~You Only Have Your Word~” I lost track of offline.
  5. Rules 68 and 136 repeat “No Rest For The Wicked.” Such is my memory.
  6. Gospel 068 ~Willing Existence Day To Be~ was addressed to you, Madam. But does not count as a rule. I have mentioned I hate being Forty. I was Thirty-Six on that day…
  7. I wonder if Rules 316 and 345 were repeated accidentally. Or were they meant to be a play on words… “Harder To Breathe On/Up Top.” Leaning towards accident

So… How many rules exist? If we include “Leap Day” and The Purge. 367… That’s adding 79 and 366. Minus two repeated rules brings us to 365. But Annual Purging…

Once again, I’m at 366, but I’m not a smart man, Madam? That’s why I’m always trying to learn. And you know how I hated formal education. I wouldn’t hate my Day Job if I had been better at it. This is why I’m talking to you today. Because, with the Day Job Monday, Madam… How excited was I to see I even had a schedule? Writing isn’t making money. REALLY? A rule against it? Learn Something New Every Day.

A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1352 Days Without B III, Day 793 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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