Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

Is it the water heater, the A.C., or the weather? It could be anything. I talk about wanting to be a family man, and I’m not even a decent “homeowner.” Always crying to my Olds or my lost little boy. Then there’s Virgil. “Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.”

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

To Will
It’s the Man In The Mirror… But what circle of Hell am I? It’s a strange question for so late in the morning.

8:00 AM? More like 8:18, to be specific. But you were up at 4:00 AM, and what did that show? Bladder control? More like Damage Ctrl. For the most part, it was only Piper Niven getting you going. Now that sounds like a confession for Inspector E. What’s wrong with liking big chicks? Nothing at all, and neither was ending B III’s suffering when “The Man Comes Around.” And are there any other would-be, could-be, or should-be sins you want to confess this Sunday morning? Sloth perhaps? Since you don’t see yourself getting out of bed. There’s always a bit of Envy. And you’re annoyed at Virgil. It beats Indifference. Do you remember how Braxton ended up? And you? Your existence? These, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Princess Tamer 2 by Neil Bimbeau. – And Backyard Dungeon 4
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 017* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024* 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

Talk about going down. Up and down, hmm; with your toy as the song goes (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. And neither can you. But that’s by choice. You don’t belong in the Second Circle anyway. And can you be positive for once? Should you repeat the A.I.s words? Ha! I let the words fall out of my mouth Saturday. I wasn’t myself, and it showed. God, I hate liars. Well, next to those that make excuses for everything. For example, why can’t you walk down the hall and lie on the couch? Or go down to B’s room and bring Virgil to you—scaredy cat. For once, you’re talking about somebody else and not you. Then again, every Sunday, you write Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* 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

And at least two of them require you to get out of this bed and head downstairs. And what fresh Hell is this? I can tell you this whole week will have you like Noah—fearing that freaking flood along the floor. And you have yet to see how bad it is right now. “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” It would help if you tried reading that again, I think. But no, you went through two more books of… relations with computer babes, elves, and demons taking off their clothes. You’re back with the crying over fur babies portion of the program. You don’t need mirrors to see yourself. Moaning and sweating over girls, tears about your boy, or the mess on the floor. Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.

1029 Days Without B III, Day 470 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Do I hate every day? The ones that end in Y. Black Friday? It’s not Braxton’s last day, my first E-Day, Father’s Day, etc. Black Friday should be on the low end. But without B and dealing with people. It could be worse. Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil.

Friday, November 24, 2023

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Even though I’m not good at it. Even though it hasn’t happened yet. (Sings) Time Travel!

For the record, today is Wednesday, November 22, 2023. So it’s Thanksgiving Eve, My Lady. I have the rest of the day to think about what I’m thankful for… That I haven’t forgotten Braxton’s story. Indeed, his two novels… But the day I found out he was dying was a Friday. And unfortunately for my son, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” So no, Braxton didn’t come back on a Sunday. He died right in his bed on a steel table with me holding his little head like I was the freaking Reaper in “Tha Crossroads.” I’m thankful that no matter how bad things get, the worst day of my existence has come and gone. And what about Virgil? Someday, Lady Sophia…

But not today? As far as Wednesday, the most I’ve said to him is he’s a little fatty. And whose fault is that? Have you met my Ma? That is, if she brought food for us on Thanksgiving Day. Cross your fingers. Other than that, it’s been sleeping in daily. Inevitably, he’d put on a little pudge, not that it’s his choice with my laziness and fear of the outside world. Plus, it’s getting cold. Speaking of which, am I cold for leaving him in Braxton’s room? He could go whenever he wanted, but like father, like freeloader, I know. And it’s only getting colder. You know what I mean since we’re talking today. People? There should be stories of people hurting me, Black Friday.

But let the world do its worst. I had my son euthanized. Hell! If I ever get back to writing. No, Lady Sophia! I killed my son. He started dying on a Wednesday when I was so damn angry, and I didn’t want to hear about his problems. Indifferent. As I gathered him up in my arms and took a nap. And now I’m mad again because that thought alone should be enough to stop me from napping. Even the phone asks if I want a nap meditation session. I won’t be getting one of those Friday. And would I need one if it wasn’t for the Day Job? I ain’t buying anything today. Unless Braxton’s life was on sale… Again? Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil

1027 Days Without B III, Day 468 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

My grade in bed these days… No, I’m not taking a college class, heh. When Braxton was here, I was only ever sleeping, sick, or coming down with “Solanum,” as in dead. D for dad, F for father? I’m anything but A-OK. But see “Virgil, B’s In Love.”

Tuesday, November 21, 2023

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And THEY say it takes six likes to get to love. Or was that reallys.

And did I hear that on Finding Carter or in a Carly Rae Jepsen song? With Thanksgiving coming up… Hell! I should be thankful that we have billions. How about the fact you don’t have to spend all day in the kitchen? Unless you want to cook. I’m a bit Christian Grey that way. The women I’ve known, the woman I chose, know their way around a stove. I’ll thank B III for that. He wouldn’t have it any other way. His Daddy shares food. I would tell him all the time that the first girl he ended up liking I would have to marry. That’s one more promise I broke. But love means never having to say you’re sorry. Seriously, I’m quoting Love Story?

Braxton sends me the weirdest stuff. You’ve heard me say, “I’m a man of god, but I don’t need a savior.” Yes, that’s also from a song, “Behead The Kings.” And when I say that. I mean, I believe my boy is out there somewhere. I believe in Heaven, Hell, and sometimes the Rainbow Bridge. There are zombie viruses, “Solanum,” and dead magic, “Necromancy.” And should we even get into those two zombie toys that I got? What am I doing? Hmm? Do I want to claim insanity, have a stomach ache, or even start a new book? My love, I’m just missing… well, my first love. Thanksgiving was Braxton’s favorite. Hell! Anytime there was food involved. And while I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad…

With Braxton, I was A-OK. And everything else, especially when it’s a time for family. Love, “Sweet Love,” I swear I’m going to cut the music off at some point, but it brings back memories, even if I don’t care to remember them well. But then there’s my boy, B. And if he were here, what would he think of my love now? It was enough for him to lay dying and look at me like he was saying, “I only want to be with you.” That was B III. Now, how would you say I love you, my love? Something every guy asks someday. Inevitable, but I don’t mean that Ha-Ha. But you, our family. “A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H, I love you still.” Virgil, B’s In Love

1024 Days Without B III, Day 465 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything,” that’s my only interest in Laughter. B made everyone laugh, including me. And I looked after him for fifteen years. What’s Laughter done for me lately? “Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine.”

Monday, November 20, 2023

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

Three-Hundredth And Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice

Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Hell! Plain ole words, too. The comedian is dead. My son. And FTWD. We are the dead.

I’m not trying to be comedic, clever, or cool. That’s for damn sure. And you know what I’m not cool with? Laughter. “I smile… I laugh… I rejoice this day.” A lot of days, Madam. Back in the day, I wanted to be a comic. I wrote comics for… let’s say a few weeks, Madam. Not the funny kind. But I didn’t start hating Laughter until E-Day number seven. Hmm? I don’t remember, and I don’t want to. Every day we move past E-Day thirty-nine, I come to another truth. I wasted “my” life. Um, existence. And the comedian is still alive and well. Nothing will be bringing Braxton back. And “Fear The Walking Dead” isn’t officially dead and buried, as I missed one episode.

How embarrassing. Braxton would give me one of his patented looks. Every Sunday, I chose my love of the dead over him. And yet I decided to kill him on a Sunday. What! The Walking Dead was on hiatus. Oh! You mean the whole “I killed my best friend” thing. Braxton had a dark sense of humor like his Dad. Again, I remember him giving me those… AHEM “blah, is you crazy?” But he never laughed. He would smile, remain silent, and then sleep. And that was my solace. My cure to every day. Let the people laugh at me. Madam, what else is there for me if it isn’t my son sleeping or guarding me while I sleep? I really want to know. You?

While I’m busy singing one of Jodeci’s hits. “Come And Talk To Me,” for those unaware of the classics. How about “Let’s Talk About Sex?” If you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you, Madam. If it weren’t for the humiliations galore at the Day Job, I would say I hate the implication of “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” right now. So, without my Braxton, I’m left with sex and music. And both can be funny in their way, too. As a thirty-nine-year-old man, it’s hilarious that I have to tell succubus stories to sleep. Laughter is one of those medications where the side effects are worse than the disease. Won’t laugh, smile, make a funny face… Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine

1023 Days Without B III, Day 464 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 141 ~Not A B…eep Virgil~

A bomb that never goes off. That’s not a “good” analogy. Still, I take in every breath. I can hear the beat of “my” heart. And I would say I have no balls, but even a slow computer and internet connection still keep them banging. Not A B…eep Virgil

Sunday, November 19, 2023

Tale 141 ~Not A B…eep Virgil~

To Will

It’s the Man In The Mirror… And of all the things you could break… a mirror? Seven years back luck? Try thirty-nine, forty…

What’s one more day of existence? To wake up to one day that you would rather not see, right? One more reason it should have been you and not B III. Braxton would appreciate being alive today. Hell! For all you know… you know nothing (snickers). But Braxton might sound like Virgil if you weren’t in the world, even on work days, movie nights, and those midday guard sessions. That explains what you’re doing here talking right now. The thing is, Braxton always knew you were coming back to him. And then what, ignoring him? Again, you’re sitting here staring at me. And if it’s not me, it would be a pair of Yabbos. Ha-ha! It’d be some story. Or listing out Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING PORN: A Novel of Extreme Horror, Sex and Gore, Matt Shaw
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 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

It’s this list right here that makes you feel like a slug, a sloth, or “just a sucker for pain.” And here we have your latest way of torturing yourself. An effing slow computer, hmm…

Everything seems okay so far, but what? You got back and immediately turned it on. There was a period of decompression. You had lunch and a nap, of course. Existence is a tough row to hoe. Can you dig your way to Hell any faster? Keep looking at women the way you do. How about holding your breath in “your” car? In a crowd of people? And what’s a group to you? A couple and the manager. And “Relax, don’t do it. When you wanna come.” Always, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Princess Tamer 2 by Neil Bimbeau
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 017* 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

And like breathing, these are ways we both choose to “pretend that we’re dead.” I am dead for all intents and purposes, and this is your week now. And not to be that guy, but I must tell you that you wasted two months after E-Day. Or you’re close to doing so, my guy. So, how are you going to rectify the situation? If you can’t stop the human machine, which is your biological imperative. You feel the natural and physical make-up far too much. You might be inclined to do something if you couldn’t watch other people in the throes of passion. But, when anything beeps, what seconds that emotion? Love? Braxton, women, and technology are all broken. Not FEAR. Not A B…eep Virgil

1022 Days Without B III, Day 463 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 139 ~They’ll B Books Virgil~

A book a week is what I promise myself. But between Hollywood, the hidden mysteries of Kindle Challenges, and the history of my reading and my son… Hell! I even included a review. My first unwarranted since Braxton’s passing. “They’ll B Books Virgil”

Friday, November 17, 2023

Tale 139 ~They’ll B Books Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… With last week being a dreadful crime, I’m sure I’ll have money to burn on books.

Now, if I went ahead and finished Braxton’s novel, I’m not sure I’ll ever write one for Virgil Vivi. If I don’t want to see tomorrow… I’m writing to you on Wednesday, November 15, 2023. For damn sure, I don’t want to see forty. Another thing about E-Day… From then to now, which is about… You didn’t expect me to tell you the number? As fun as it is? Sophia, I shouldn’t be having fun. By now, I should have finished “Princess Tamer 2: A LitRPG Harem Adventure.” This means two weeks are remaining before Dirty Santa. Or should I say, Dirty Harry? And I do mean Harry Rivera and not the 1971 film series. Hell! Braxton was here when I read about Dennis Hof.

But you know, ahem, TRADITION. Every holiday season, I read a ton of Christmas Erotica. It started all the way back in 2018. So I was thirty-four. Braxton was thirteen. He was a grown man, but I kept such reading material far away from him. B was/is too smart for his own good. And with a title like “Christmas Cake. Ah! My boy B III. Speaking of titles and of better times than Christmas. What about when Braxton’s aunt and I watched The Hunger Games? While I’m buying books, have I gone to the movies? Thursday, November 16, 2023, is when “The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes” comes out, Lady Sophia. That’s what we should talk about. But I owe you a review of PORN.

PORN… I have seen, well, instead, read better. But there’s been much worse, too. Horror… only in a particular portion, and the reason I’m giving this three stars. Again, the sex was okay, but nothing to write about. Did I really just say that? Not that I regret reading this. Gore… there was that but more grossness. No one’s reading this because they expect a masterpiece or even to get off. But the twists of the story, now that’s what kept me reading, especially near the end. It messes with your head. I do mean the one on your neck…

I don’t know what brought that on Sophia. My first small review since Braxton’s passing. It’s Christmas time in Hell. Soon. They’ll B Books Virgil

1020 Days Without B III, Day 461 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

When was the last time I had a conversation? If I want to keep my Day Job, it’s best not to do that there. And other people… ha. There are some programs and programmers that have been listening. I wish B were here. And Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent.

Wednesday, November 15, 2023

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Yeah, what else is new? It’s another reason to stay in bed. To remain sinless? Like I’m PURE.

Please! All my best crimes are done here. And I should shut up right now, Inspector. Only I won’t. And do you know why? It’s not like I’m getting into Heaven. Or, more importantly, to The Rainbow Bridge to see my B III. Are you sick of me speaking on B? That’s my first sin. The universe thinks so. When did I last read a book on grieving for fur babies? Inspector, that was about ten books ago. And of those ten, eight have involved uh… “Hair Pie” or clean-shaven. I know, Inspector, that’s so gross. Silence! Inspector, it’s either that or crying for my boy. And what about Virgil? The Day Job sucks for the both of us, Inspector. We both burst into tears.

So why don’t I get another job? Hell! I’m supposed to be a writer, aren’t I? And I was up around five-ish this morning. But seeing as how it’s 6:30 AM… Inspector, I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask? For the record, there are worse people in the world than me. Inspector, I’m not a politician or programmer, and even with the pictures I took last night of myself… a pervert. And as for being a man? It depends on how we’re defining it this week. But like the song, “I think I used to have a voice. Now, I never make a sound.” That’s another reason I’m trying to stay off OnlyFans. Only the places I visit are worse. But without money and anonymity.

And to think, I was condemning the men in Matt Shaw’s novel. And that brings me back to my writing. Is that what I call this? The last few days, saying anything at all… Inspector, I should be ashamed. But there is so much of it. If there was food, the way there’s my shame. That’s another reason I’m up this morning. Last week wasn’t awesome! This week is a bit better. I should shut my mouth before I jinx it. Inspector, next week, Black Friday… There’s some shopping I have to do. And that’s to keep the Day Job I hate but still need. I can’t decide whether I should speak or remain silent. This Is America. B’s dead. Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent

1018 Days Without B III, Day 459 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 136 ~Virgil, The B Keeper~

To be a Bee Keeper. For real? It came up when I saw a question the other day. Something about it: You can only buy things that begin with the first letter of your name. I’d always have women… Phrasing bro. But B? “Virgil, The B Keeper”

Tuesday, November 14, 2023

Tale 136 ~Virgil, The B Keeper~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Like pancakes? Are we talking about the food or my son? It’s always about Braxton.

It’s still NaNoWriMo season. And was it in 2022? I wrote two novels about Braxton. Monday, as I was reading Matt Shaw’s book. I swear! It says in caps and everything on the cover. Ahem! “There Are No Happy Endings.” Anyway, last night I’ve been trying to… what, forget the ending? So sad? I have a few more books like that. Damn me for my Study. Man Cave? Somehow, even with my love of pop culture. I doubt games, girls (gasps), or even going out to see The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes will help me. But again, while finishing the story, I thought, “This is why I wrote my Braxton’s book,” hmm. What, do I want to forget him? Never, “my love!”

Books, what can I say? I don’t bash, ban, or burn them like some. At least the first part of that is a lie. There was a time… in this existence when I considered myself a critic. But there was also a time when I was Braxton’s Daddy. Which one was easier to give up, Honey? I’ll always be B’s Dad. But books? “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Perhaps the better line would be, “I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser,” ha-ha. Leave it to Taylor Swift. Sorry, Beyoncé, but my son B has claimed King B. Somehow, my love, you’re still here, and I’m forever grateful. You love me. Yet I cry! One more morning, love.

I wish I could be all King Ezekiel. “And yet, I smile.” Hell! Don’t I? Even with all the BS? Again, my son is dead. We have our children who we love, but Braxton was my very own, my love. I didn’t give birth to him, but he was mine. People and their beliefs. Ridiculous? Like my business these days. I don’t make it a habit to call women, uh… something that starts with a B. I’m sort of like Robin Gardener that way. You know, out of another book, Satan’s Sorority Girls. For the record, I hope the next one’s out before December. Sigh. I keep books, Braxton’s things, and belief in Virgil. And I got you, babe. So yes, Virgil, The B Keeper.

1017 Days Without B III, Day 458 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation. How many tales did I write with B here? I ain’t much, but the two of us were a family. I am his Dad. And when he lay dying, I created beliefs, birthdays, and BS. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

Monday, November 13, 2023

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

Three-Hundredth And Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… So, I bought a gun in 2020. It’s the End of the World As We Know It…

Or so THEY thought… And that was over STUPID things… I can’t get a haircut. Starbucks may have a bad year. Trump doesn’t get to brag about a booming economy. Hell! 2020 should have been our year, Braxton and me. Only, no wasteland or zombies. And if I couldn’t live it out, I should have been writing about it while I had the time. Hmm. The end was extremely effing nigh! What was I doing when “The Man Comes Around? That he did in 2021 for my son. Where were my big plans then? My promises. The graffiti with punctuation, which is us talking right now. What’s that? Destruction, Creation? Madam, in the end, I breed a million excuses because I’m not breeding anything else.

Gross! I know, Madam, sorry. But the truth is that everybody dies. “Daddy… everyone dies.” I can imagine Braxton telling me that. Or was it Katie in the movie “1408?” Sometime last night, Braxton sent me a song from the Foo Fighters, “DOA.” I’m crazy. That’s true enough. But the things that come up when I can’t listen to audiobooks or music at the Day Job. It was pain. The idea is that every hurt and pain is a step closer. Because what can I do as a person? Someone asked me at the Day Job how old I was. Ha! I’m ashamed to be thirty-nine. And over the past few days, I’ve been saying I must do better. I’m at the dining room table.

But the fact is that every day, I’m devolving, being destroyed, dying, my dear Madam. And with full knowledge of what’s happening, what am I doing? Can anything be done? That’s what this rule is all about. When Braxton was here… for his life… I would have found a way. Only that’s a lie, Madam. Because in fifteen years, I could have been doing something to save him. Let’s not count the first twenty years of existence. I would have never met him if I had been “Successful.” I had to be so wrecked for the Heavens to create a life like him. B waited as long as he could for me to bring new life for us, for me. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

1016 Days Without B III, Day 457 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will