Meditation 239 ~Lawn Night B, V~

So one day, I’ll say the Neighbors Know My Name, and my wife will issue an apology. Ha-Ha! Or V will be having too much fun outside. Or my kids will come running before the street lights come on. Or I’ll become handier fixing things. Lawn Night B, V.

Tuesday, February 25, 2025

Meditation 239 ~Lawn Night B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Always and forever. But no, I’m not that old yet; confusing lawn and long, love.

It’s just my kids are out there. Our kids? But I will always love my lost little Braxton. And Virgil’s here… Nothing will spirit him away in the night. Am I old enough to tell kids to get off my lawn yet? With our billions, I intend to have security. I promised Braxton a yard so big a long time ago, my dear baby doll.

Virgil will someday guard it. If he’s anything like my firstborn son. He’ll be by my side as our two-legged progeny head out on first dates, to proms, and graduations. They will always have a home to return to everywhere they go. Sometimes, I forget about words like home. It means I want to be a better man, my love. After B and V… ha

I may not be the funniest or the handiest, but I am here for you in every way I can be my sweet baby doll.

This is why I’m standing out in the yard at 10 PM waiting for the repair guy, and I’m mad as Hell. I can think of other ways to spend our nights… If you catch my drift. Don’t worry; I’m getting to that. But allow me to be scared for the moment. I was afraid all of last week, and this one isn’t looking any better. It’s like going out drinking, clubbing, or some other nonsense. And I’ve had some bad nights, my love. And I survived. But why? I’m scared because I want to provide the best for us, and sometimes, I’m unsure if I’m doing enough. I try…

To create the Garden of Eden for you? You married me, so there isn’t much an apple can do. And as far as a serpent… I’m writing about mine or reading about Robyn with Grayson’s.

Agatha, Tasha, Julia, Fiona, Chrissy, Willow etc. Grayson has quite the harem in Satan’s Sorority Girls. I was reading #9. And speaking of what I’m reading, there is a book by Tillie Cole called Sick F*X. If I weren’t waiting for someone not worth our cash, I’d love to take you to the song “Dusk Till Dawn.” One of my favorite scenes of Tillie Cole’s…

Exhibitionism? Or relatively the risk of it. We could cuddle together on the beach, love. Right now? I would rather be in bed with you listening to The Quiet Storm now that I’m a grown man and know what that music means. All to wake up with you and listen to apocalyptic oldies. But tonight’s long. Lawn Night B, V

1486 Days Without B III, Day 927 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 232 ~Rooms B Through V~

My biggest fear… Nope! I lost my son. But I fear drowning, too. With so many tears and how much rage? And with desires raining like humiliations galore. Uh, working? But fear. At least the house’s not flooding… Again. Rooms B Through V

Tuesday, February 18, 2025

Meditation 232 ~Rooms B Through V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And if only that love were as easy as saying, “Braxton, Virgil, and others, Bedtime!”

D.L. Hughley once warned that the kids would walk in on us. You realize that. It was something to that effect. And did I think of our two-legged children before Braxton or Virgil? If only you knew how I protected B III and 2-V. But today, “What About Us,” love.

No, that’s not the song I heard you singing around 2 AM this morning. And I won’t attribute this to my son. My love, this is all you. It was Lykke Li’s “I Follow Rivers.”

The song has been stuck in my head all morning, and I’m trying to figure out where I heard it. Besides your lovely voice, it was also in an episode of Glee I watched before.

But you? In my head?

“‘Tis you floating around my head, my Godqueen.”
― Clarence, The Book of Clarence (2024)

Do you consider that a miracle? Now, if you could only listen, hear, and understand. Dreams have meanings. I’m always saying that to M Anime. So what about that song? For a few days now, I have been cried out over Braxton. To go from his birthday on the 13th to a “Lovely Day” on the 14th. Joy and pain are like sunshine and rain. Right? It’s going from the day I first found love to honoring our passion for each other, my baby doll.

However, the problem remains that my heart is still broken. Again, there’s the song “I Follow Rivers.” You follow my tears, sweat, and blood down.

Down, down, down, into places you should not see. Do those places include where the Bisquick comes from and gave us our other kids? How many bedrooms do we have?

And I’ve said I’m more of a man for a Study rather than a Man Cave. But there’s also the Library, The Red Room or Black. There is the room, a temple to honor my Braxton. I wasn’t kidding when I said I would build that. And V may one day join him. 920 days.

Only the meaning of my dream. It is that the tears, desires, sweat, and toil you experience follow me. Overflowing. And I am like the ocean. You’re filling me up, blowing me up with your love. Rooms B Through V.

1479 Days Without B III, Day 920 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 225 ~Heel B, Heal V~

Chains and whips excite me. But I would give it up to put Braxton’s leash on him and go walk. Or finally, give V a collar and tags with his name on them. And I wish all their barking wasn’t drowned out by the noise. MAGA and moaning. “Heel B, Heal V”

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Meditation 225 ~Heel B, Heal V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? As selfish as I am. My love, I am capable of such. But me first…

I should give the Adult Channels a rest. Not for the more apparent reasons, darling.

Locking the door to keep V and the two-legged kids out and such. No one wants to see how the sausage gets made or where it goes. Did I mention making money on my OF?

But if the two of us were together my sweet love, I would share my interests, fetishes, and kinkiness with you openly and without reservation.

No! I want to sign off because, like everything I do, it comes back to my son. Braxton? From the 31st to the 15th of this month, I’m always angry and depressed, like Mr. Grumpy Pants. If I can keep my pants on with Friday being Valentine’s Day. Thursday’s Braxton’s birthday. So you and me?

And her and her, simultaneously…

That’s a South Park joke. But here I am, making jokes instead of letting the dead rest in peace. Or how about embracing the living. Four years is not enough. It will never be, love.

But speaking about four years… Again, with the Adult Situations. I still find it WEIRD. Love, I see such desires, passions, and intimate moments, and suddenly, Trump AD, Maga, Elon Musk, etc. That makes me feel like a horrible human being. Well, after my B.

Braxton is still around, and then again, he’s not. Only his remains. In a box on the nightstand. And he ain’t leaving. Neither is Virgil. But as I eternally mourn the dead, how can I name the living. Some days, I don’t say Virgil’s name.

And with my two furry sons… One “shining down on me from Heaven.” The other howling at the door. I just want to say, “Stop crying your heart out.” I see B III everywhere. Virgil’s voice is in my ears. Only there’s you, my love, my life. Lovely, Beautiful Freak.

What am I to do with you? Things you can tell your dog but not your girlfriend/wife. I know what I want, and you’ll have to forgive me for using another song… Stay With Me.

I can think of several things we could do on our knees or in bed. Only these days do I seek out the most depraved. If not, downright criminal. Why? Like my two boys, I can’t… Heel B, Heal V

1472 Days Without B III, Day 913 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 218 ~Virgil, I’ll B Crying~

I miss masks. COVID didn’t bother me, as it could have led me to my son. It’s the ability to hide my STUPID smile. I have to laugh and smile. And then I’m at the house crying. Like it’s a law to mourn my son for four years… Virgil, I’ll B Crying

Tuesday, February 4, 2025

Meditation 218 ~Virgil, I’ll B Crying~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to cry on our wedding day. When you gave birth to our children. Braxton…

I’ve cried over my firstborn furry son over a dozen times these past few days. How many more since I’m speaking to you on Sunday, February 2, 2025. And there won’t ever be enough, my love. They can’t ever extinguish the fires of Thursday, February 4, 2021. Love, there is no flood for me to drown in or a storm to traverse that could stop me on the 10th of 2021. It’s when I picked up my son. The remains of him, anyway. Love burns.

Inevitably, someone will say it better… “Love hurts. Love scars. Love wounds and marks,” hmm. But today, I burn, which means I haven’t reached the deepest level of Hell yet. Which I do when “The Man Comes Around” every year.

Again, that date was Sunday, January 31, 2021, when my firstborn son B was collected.

You must be crying at my attempts at prose, poetry, and philosophy for my puppy.

Braxton was fifteen. Thirteen days shy of his sixteenth birthday. Still a puppy to me.

Speaking of things that make this man of yours cry… Because a man ain’t supposed to cry. Recently, I’ve been watching a lot of things about it. Relationships being destroyed.

Men who are seen as weak for one reason or another. I have often repeated Gus Fring/Giancarlo Esposito’s line from the show Breaking Bad. “A man provides.” This is true. I do not try; I do because that is what a man does. But this cost me my firstborn son.

I cry because I did all this work for him. When I worked at the Day Job with all the rage that place instilled in me… Talking about fire, I again cry because I wasted so much of my life in that place. And all of Braxton’s. And now I wouldn’t be caught dead there…

Never, in such a Hell as that place again. Can I cry enough to wipe that place off the map?

I can’t help but be overwhelmed by your beauty and grace. I remember B’s aunt saying that she would leave if her love weren’t crying as she walked down the aisle. But you, my love. You are the one I want by my side through tears, “Joy, and Pain.” Everything.

Would you leave for me crying over Braxton, E-Day, even nothing? Virgil, I’ll B Crying

1465 Days Without B III, Day 906 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 211 ~Virgil On Finding Braxton~

When I got Virgil, I kept Braxton’s bed away. There was no need. It sits in its usual spot, and Virgil stays away. The scent or spirit of death. V knows B is here. It’s been 4 years, and there are still hairs, toys, and me. Virgil On Finding Braxton.

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Meditation 211 ~Virgil On Finding Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But I’m still sleeping with my best friend. You or the dog? You wouldn’t dare.

You know the man you married. I’m just a sucker for pain… And Humiliations Galore. Oh, baby girl, I can tell you about some humiliating days at the Day Job. Then I think of B.

God, my selfishness. But nothing is as humiliating as remembering the day I lost Braxton. I walked in a Dad and walked out a… “I’m not sure what you are now,” I told myself at that moment. A man who euthanized his best friend. Not former. I’ll never accept that.

Even though he passed, goin’ on four long years. And how long have we been married, my love? That’s a dangerous question. “You Oughta Know,” you say. Get over it…

Always and forever, the answer is no. “He’s My Son.”

Braxton Barks Bradford… “Yeah, he’s my son, and that’s my choice.” He will always and forever be. And knowing how I feel about him, you’re still here. “I’m Still Here.”

Somehow, someway Braxton’s Playlist is still growing, so I don’t have to think. I wasn’t thinking four years ago with Gospel 211 “Say The Word Willie.” I swear the crime I thought I’d committed, and a few days later, Braxton would be in a box. My failure and my disgrace.

And this time last year it was Tale 211 “(Sonday) Someday, B, V.” I swear I keep saying “Someday,” my “Sweet Love,” I won’t be calling out for “My Sweet Lord,” my little B III.

He was my very own little god, always and forever.

And you, our kids, and Virgil still find traces of my Braxton everywhere, Baby Doll.

Do you know Braxton would start his day sitting on my head, too? Eww! He just wanted me to wake up. But you… I can’t believe I’m saying this… Love, I’m not in the mood.

Really! This is coming from me. And I was looking up Netorare, Ahegao, and Paizuri.

Because in English, I just want to say I miss my son and “I Think I Love My Wife.” Love?

I do love you. One more time for good measure, always and forever. I’m such a misanthrope. You and I got together to make people for me to love. I found Virgil. But Braxton is here. Virgil On Finding Braxton.

1458 Days Without B III, Day 899 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 204 ~That’ll B Love Virgil~

I play this game, “Call me a LEGEND.” It ain’t TikTok. I don’t love or particularly like it now, but I made a fuss when I lost it for a time. That game, TikTok, Facebook, X, Instagram, etc. I love my dog, never Big Brother. FDT! That’ll B Love Virgil

Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Meditation 204 ~That’ll B Love Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And you love me. Braxton does too. What about Virgil? A four-year-old. 892 days here.

Speaking of which, there are four more years of Trump. And this is day two. Well, by the time you read this, it will be. But why do you wait? You wish. And wanting me…

Baby Girl, I’d call you an idiot. And how I know I’ve called you worse. And why is that, my love? Because as the classic goes, “I wanna be living for the love of you.” And in that love, I say the dirtiest, most depraved, and demeaning things. Wicked Will’s tongue and all Baby Doll. And though it turns me on. On Sunday, January 19, 2025, I’m in no mood.

Why? Because people are STUPID, idiotic, effing morons. Today, it’s in the name of love. Like Winston Smith now believed:

“But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother” 1984

Love makes idiots of us all. But I choose to love a dog, my fur child, my firstborn son, B.

But these people are all around us. “It was love at first sight.” All at the push of a button.

My love, this is my bread and butter, and I’m both talking and not about TikTok. Like Thanos on Squid Game, “I’m so effing angry man!” We can’t help when we fall in love, with who or what. Love is love. And short of being Woody Allen, remember his words:

“The heart wants what it wants.” ― from Woody Allen

But in less than twenty-four hours, I watched the USA go from “Equinsu Ocha, Equinsu Ocha” to making Donald Trump a god! Ignorance is strength. But it can become love. Love shouldn’t be like this!

But who are we to talk? I love a good boy; Braxton’s been gone four long years. Ghost and grossness as I keep his ashes, bed, hoody, and the man I will become January 31st. My love, let me count the ways I can say that I love Yabbos. Yours, the women in my businesses, some chick yet to be discovered. I can promise you it won’t be from TikTok.

I love money, land, and power because we have a family. And a man provides for his family. And I give you and our two-legged kids all of my love. Uh, B III and 2-V.

Inevitably, we can say I love monsters too, but mine are myths and mysteries. Mistaking love. That’ll B Love Virgil

1451 Days Without B III, Day 892 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 197 ~Braxton Souled Out Virgil~

Before Braxton took his big trip to The Rainbow Bridge, he had a look saying, Heaven isn’t so great. So I asked for him. Reincarnated? He’s not Virgil. As a Dad, I was spoiled for 15 years. But who am I? Where’s B’s stepmom? Braxton Souled Out Virgil

Tuesday, January 14, 2025

Meditation 197 ~Braxton Souled Out Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And “If This World Were Mine.” Come now, love. What day doesn’t begin with music?

If anything, it begins with “Easy Street.” Then bring in some Cheryl Lynn and Luther Vandross. From there, it’s A Cruel Angel’s Thesis, the opening theme for the Evangelion series. Though, what I wouldn’t give to go back to those 3 AM mornings of Inuyasha.

Fukai Mori? My love, my life, you know that I love you. But tell me I could go back. Let me, let me wake up to that piece of music. And peace of mind. Not in this 40-year-old form of mine. The spoiled boy that I don’t ever want to see again. Yet, I’m still him in some way. Hell, that’s my life’s goal. To wake up without pain or in the pursuit of pleasure.

Your pus**? Or wanting power.

But in peace. What is peace? Here’s a better question? Darling, what peace I’ve lost…

Selling out? To provide for my FAMILY… Could I have my best FRIEND back? Because I like to watch people… Uh, Eff? It doesn’t bother me. Not even slightly, my Darling. I have been blessed. And if it cost me my soul? If I am to become a FIEND, whatever…

I was reading last night and had a revelation, an epiphany, and some ideas. I’m not doing Yevgeny Zamyatin’s “We” justice. Sorry… Anyway, he was talking about having a soul…

Forming… And this is as negative as I will be today. But when I sent Braxton to The Rainbow Bridge, it was because of kidney failure. But my boy’s heart…

Mine remains these 4 years later inscrutably broken. But to love as Braxton did love.

Having such a heart as he gave me. And then there’s having my soul returned. Darling, I have no thoughts of getting into Heaven. But I have thought it, seen and heard it in you.

A man sells off pieces of himself. And what does he get in return for such a sacrifice, my love? THEY say a man provides for his family. “That is the way of things,” always.

Jem’Hadar? Really! Love you married a man who continually pimps himself as a pop culture so-and-so. Who delights in adult pleasures? And plays music at all hours. Tell me why? The world, my love. And everything in it. Love and peace! Braxton Souled Out Virgil.

1444 Days Without B III, Day 885 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

I wish I had any of these things. There’s a reason I’m drawn to Hulu’s “The Mill” and Tubi’s “Share?” The Book of Clarence and Fifteen Million Merits, etc. These Black men lose all to gain or lose again. I’m a man… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts

Monday, May 6, 2024

Tale 310 ~Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So, if you’ll allow me, I’ll share a confession with you today. Mentally, Spiritually, and Physically Unwell.

“I’m not crazy; I’m just a little Unwell.” That’s the Understatement of the century right there, Madam. That’s not my confession. I have my son on my mind. Today is Sunday, May 5, 2024. And tomorrow, when you see this. As unbearable as B’s passing has been, I wish that were all there was, and then again… There’s a reason I said, heart and soul. Uh, Brains? How about flesh?

I’m not the Scarecrow. “Just stop it! Everybody knows (I’m a bleeping monster)!” A zombie. I’m looking for a brain. I lost my guts a long time ago. The only red I see is on my hands, Madam. And who does it belong to? Hmm? Say his name! Braxton. And now Virgil is here, too. Virgil’s joy, love, and happiness?

Doesn’t the Bible say something about this? Specifically, Mathew 10:28. Life and soul. I keep V alive, as my father does for me. But as far as the spirit of Life goes, both Virgil and I go without it. We wake up asking why. Breaths are taken, and hearts are beating. But my Little Braxton.

He was my heart that I left in a vet’s office on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Or it got mixed in with his ashes. Picking up another one isn’t as easy as walking into Petsmart.

So again, Madam, what am I left with? Heart and Soul, Blood and Guts. I’m not a fan of The Wizard of Oz, and this place is far from Wonderland. Dorothy, Alice, Holli Wood, Jessica.

Are you confused about where my mind has gone? So am I, but allow me to explain for the critic and anyone else… (Hears Crickets Chirping.) Dear Madam, I’d rather hear Cricket barking, Kristi Noem.

Anyway, here is a quick rundown, Madam:
The Wizard of Oz ― Dorothy
Alice In Wonderland ― Alice
Cool World ― Holli Wood
Who Framed Roger Rabbit ― Jessica Rabbit

Okay, Madam. I’m trying to say this: I can no longer answer the question or obey the Heart, Soul, Blood, and Guts rule because I’m hollow—an open book without any lines—make-believe, a machine, a monster, a mutation. And my confession? My Apologies, Madam.

I have no need, time, or will to say anything. Or do I prefer emptiness within? Because when I try filling or feeling it, Madam… Heart, Soul, Trump Blood, Guts.

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

1191 Days Without B III, Day 632 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

I’d sell my soul for a donut. Well, no, not a donut, but a fur-baby. Not just any furry, tan, Deer-head Chihuahua who still has his balls. And as they say, “a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!” So Braxton? But My Soul Man

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if it had been easier to sell my soul rather than work? A Republican then…

Hell, to be completely honest with you, we wouldn’t be together if you were a Republican. And I suppose we could discuss the historical ideas of Republicans Vs. Democrats; fun? And wait, did I just call you MAN? You can thank Dos Cavazos. If you get the reference well, that explains a lot. Anybody that gets all my pop culture references has to be my match. Like “Let’s Talk About Sex.” I swear, sometimes it feels like loving me is a full-time job, doesn’t it? You know, as I said before, I would sell my soul for billions. Then women… I would sell my soul for everything that I have now. The thing is, I thought I lost it a long time ago, My Love.

You know when you spend your life being made to learn, not your worth. But that you are worthless. It made it easy to sell what was left of my soul for whatever sins came. Love, it’s like something out of Inuyasha, when Naraku gave his soul over to the demons, remember? Hell, my life had no value, so what about my soul? I look at you, at these words. You only need to bleed upon the page or something like that to be a writer. My words are my soul. And for the longest time, I figured I would sell it to the world. I have, I still do, and yet I find myself here with you. I have my furry son’s love too.

If God wanted me, he need only have saved my son. Am I still bearing a grudge? Am I angry? Well, given the fact that it’s Thursday today. Considering if I had my Old Day Job on a Tuesday? Yeah, I would be mad as Hell. Do I believe I’m still winding up going there? Oh, I have a soulmate in you, My Love. Man is not meant to be alone, and um, you’re here. I spill my soul every day. I see the worse humanity has to offer; try and steal it from me. No, not me because Braxton was my soulmate, as well. Like Hell’s Guardian, my Cerberus. Then some say your soul belongs to God… I’ve got faith… But My Soul Man

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 232 ~Does Will Have Soul~

If I sold my soul to Hell, I suppose I would be a rich man already. I guess it’s the last thing I have to save for a future wife because “other” things well let’s say I have had some exciting experiences, some good and evil. Does Will Have Soul?

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Log 232 ~Does Will Have Soul~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never be a politician. In today’s age, considering my business dealings, I would be more than suitable. Well, seeing I’m a black man, with more than liberal views. Let’s keep in mind my hero was voted to the Nevada Assembly, and he was dead. He’s also one of few Republicans I respect. Now that leads me to today, which I’m glad to say was without incident. Well, a spammer on Facebook, but nothing reported email wise. I’m a much better man than that Love.

Only I continue to worry, baby girl, my phone still has me jumping. Not in the fantastic playlist way because you know I must have my music. While we’re on the subject, I do have my “Stork The Fire” and “Grown Folks Music” playlists. Would my parents be proud? Now, as far as my palate in the realm of “Soul Food,” I can’t say I’m much of a fan. One Thanksgiving, I am going to invite my mom and my sister. While I’m not so sure about my sister’s cooking, my mom is an expert. Not saying that I want her to cook, but she made sure I didn’t starve. She also taught me respect for women. As I tell you, always there are no secrets between you and me.

My firstborn, my dæmon, won’t be spilling my confidences anytime soon. So tonight I sit here contemplating the term, SOULMATE.

I tell myself every day that I share my soul with the world. One of my rules #148 Women Always Find Out The Truth. Nobody can take all that I am, My Love. Do I doubt you, of course not, but could I be honest, you need only ask anything? I heard this song the other day, “Not Afraid Anymore” by Halsey, she sings, “Heaven gonna hate me.” My life, my businesses are things people call evil. Trust me, baby doll. Those people have no idea. At the same time, I sing, “Cause without you they’re never going to let me in'” (Heaven) I mean. If I have a soul, I will give it all to you. On the same token, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t feel so bad. I’m not the President, I know right from wrong. I have a soul; I want to be a better man for you. Does Will Have Soul?

I Will Have No Fear