Meditation 103 ~Billing Nights, Braxton, Virgil~

Hillary Clinton is a better person than Lauren Boebert and MTG. But if we were voting for adult films… Well, in politics or “poonanny” (puts on Ice Cube shades). I’d go AOC. So, I had a dream about bills, maybe… “Billing Nights, Braxton, Virgil”

Saturday, October 12, 2024

Meditation 103 ~Billing Nights, Braxton, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… This means I can afford some “good” drugs. And no more Sour Punch before bed. Okay?

Last night was a bad night. I’ve had worse. The first night Braxton wasn’t here… Am I finally back to crying about B? I cried today, and it was only 7:45 AM. And that’s only out of disappointment that I’m already counting today as a loss. What about 4:00 AM?

Lady Lunalesca, if it wasn’t for the alarm on the phone, who knows how long I would have been trapped inside a nightmare. No, Trump wasn’t there. But alas, I’m starting to become like him. I dreamt of being trapped inside of a snowstorm with… Hillary Clinton, I swear. Chelsea Clinton had taken off. So a voice said we had to face her hubby ha-ha.

Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill! Where’s the science, though?

I often dream of women. Sans clothing… How many years has it been, Lady Lunalesca?

Talking to you AGAIN began because I had a terrible night with some woman, Lunalesca. A woman that was nowhere close to being mine. That’s why it’s no insult to not dream about Braxton’s Aunt. Honorary, mind you. Braxton wouldn’t have minded her in bed.

Only… I’ve never been close to having Cherry here, so I dream about her. Again, sans clothing. And how I begged… M Anime too. English and Latina women, dear Lunalesca.

But WHO broke me last night? Why am I so late talking to you? Between dishonoring my boy, bad dreams, and “busting a nut.” A brunette gymnast with pink fingernails.

Elaborate fantasies weren’t needed, Lunalesca.

Not that I could foot the bill for any of them? Do you remember all that money that went to my Old Man’s friend, Bill? I’m forty and barely pay any bills. My bum’s existence.

Lunalesca, I’m trying to figure out what that nightmare meant. If anything, for me. Hmm…

To recap, last night included fajita bowls and sour punch candy. So, my dietary habits.

Another night without a warm body beside me. Braxton’s in a box. Virgil was in B III’s room. Ironically, the only time I paid for “company” was for an adoption fee and a pretty maid.

It could be financial stress and betraying my boy. Braxton won’t have a stepmom, so why do I need a woman? Billing Nights, Braxton, Virgil

1350 Days Without B III, Day 791 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 100 ~Working For Braxton, Virgil~

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 096 ~Braxton, Braxton, Everywhere Virgil~

They say you don’t know what you got till it’s gone—pretty women in wrestling, “Pornhub,” and the peace that came from my boy. I’m addicted to the worst of things, and why not? B’s not here. And V’s… Then again, Braxton, Braxton, Everywhere Virgil.

Saturday, October 5, 2024

Meditation 096 ~Braxton, Braxton, Everywhere Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… This means I can feed all of my addictions. Businesses full of Yabbos. Biology like Umbrella.

And books? How I miss more books, more books. By the way, I miss my Braxton, too, forever and always. But my grief and mourning, my depression… Is this ACCEPTANCE?

Never, Lady Lunalesca! Even if I am forty. I will cry for more Lost Boy, my son, always and forever. Only… not every day. Have I ever told you how much I hate this existence?

But as the song plays, “You know you’re gonna have to face it, you’re addicted to…” What? Whatever it is, it’s not good. This brings me to you today, Lady Lunalesca. Sure, I’m addicted to sadness. It all has to do with my boy, for the most part. Next is being forty. But this world…

“Oh no, the world is a scary place!” FEAR, Lunalesca.

Fear is not one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s not even a circle of Hell. And yet, it’s everywhere. It’s the only thing that I can say is worse than my Braxton’s passing, Luna.

Yes, I know. Who do I think I’m talking to, Inspector Echo? But between the waterworks that are my tears. And everything I have been losing these days… Everything, Lunalesca.

I wouldn’t call the WWE, everything… But I am… was hooked. “I’m a d$ck. I’m addicted,” to professional wrestling. Even more so than the Olympics. Remember how I missed them for the most part. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven, Iyo Sky, Kelani Jordan, Tiffany Stratton, particular models and gymnasts. Continue? With my Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy… Let’s not forget about Lust.

Oh, look, actual sins. But what did I discover first? Was it after the Disowning Dish Debacle earlier this year? The wrestling I was streaming, I can’t now. Not with an eighty buck pricetag. Hell, Lady Lu, I don’t want to fork over six dollars for the next book in the Backyard Dungeon series. And the books I’ve been reading and looking up this morning… Um, Cherry would be proud. But speaking of hot BBWs of the UK, My Lady.

In certain states, they’ve banned specific websites for, let’s say, “adults.” Oh, I’m a man? Lunalesca, I can afford a VPN. And why? Because I’m addicted to Yabbos. But Lunalesca?

THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! Oh, the money I’d save and make remembering… Braxton, Braxton, Everywhere Virgil.

1343 Days Without B III, Day 784 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 093 ~Braxton’s Second Chance, Virgil~

“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 089 ~That’s Braxton’s Spot Virgil~

I should make my bed because this isn’t my spot. I nearly push 2V off the edge when he’s here. And if I keep looking at some girl, I’ll have to do laundry. And if I wasn’t such a Lazy Ass, I could have a spot of my own. “That’s Braxton’s Spot Virgil”

Saturday, September 28, 2024

Meditation 089 ~That’s Braxton’s Spot Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… So I’ll have the maid clean up after Virgil. Just what I need… A maid fetish?

And here I go thinking about Madoka Araki from Discipline -The record of a Crusade-.

What, not my boys Braxton and Virgil? How about me as Emergence draws to a close? I can go back to something I said yesterday about not threatening Virgil. It’s only so many times I can wash the bed sheets when he decides to get sick. Hence, having a maid.

Lunalesca, Special K isn’t coming back. I know I can be a pain. And that is what brings you and me together today. As the song goes, “I’m just a sucker for pain.” Kinky, Lunalesca.

Today, as I was getting my rocks off,… more like edging to Madoka Araki, Jewel Staite, Special K, Cherry, a gymnast, etc.… There’s this question.

What is the difference between a kink and a fetish? As Forrest Gump said, “I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is,” Lunalesca. Maybe not. I love you know who, though, Lunalesca.

Anyway, long story short, a kink is something you like to do. Roleplay, BDSM, Netorare? A fetish is something that must be present to achieve arousal, enjoyment, and satisfaction Lunalesca. And so, as I tried to distinguish between the two, I found an answer. Wow!

PAIN. Now, I can wax on poetically about my son. But again, Emergence month Lunalesca.

Let’s just say there’s a spot that such and such filled in life and in death, well there’s HIS spot on the floor, the nightstand, I still say HIS room.

But I can never find a spot to call my own, Luna. Like yesterday, I read downstairs because reading in bed or on the loveseat… It’s just not my spot. It shouldn’t be. Lazy Ass.

Lunalesca, if the critic wasn’t already not talking to me. More adult relations won’t help. But again, look at everything I’ve been reading. All the women are in some sort of pain, and the men… Who was it that said… “We fill each other’s holes.” Whether it be physically or otherwise. The pain is there, but it’s lessened. And there are spots to be happy.

Happy and at home… (Shudders). A spot to be seen, called smart, and be someone… Somewhere Only We Know? Braxton? Women? That’s Braxton’s Spot Virgil

1336 Days Without B III, Day 777 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 086 ~Braxton’s Joy… Virgil Jokes~

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 082 ~Braxton’s Sound Advice, Virgil~

Advice to listen to… a great man said, “Make Your Bed.” When was the last time I did that? If I had, I wouldn’t be cleaning vomit off the bedroom floor from V. B knew better, even on his last days. Ahem, Emergence Day. Braxton’s Sound Advice, Virgil.

Saturday, September 21, 2024

Meditation 082 ~Braxton’s Sound Advice, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… And “This Is America.” Money talks. But do I? To my sons, or “pretty, pretty girls.”

My longing to talk about my Braxton is like a broken record, especially after Emergence Day. It feels like an eternity since then. If only I had the means, Lady Lunalesca, ‘Every Day Will Be Like a Holiday.’ The music would drown out these thoughts.

But if I’m not listening to Childish Gambino or William Bell, how about Bobby Byrd… “Try It Again.” I broke my abstinence streak again, rattlingly off dirty, depraved, disgusting thoughts on a brunette. She can’t hear me. And neither can my pillow, Lady Lunalesca. But aren’t I the one that needs to listen… listen, hear, and understand? I do try.

But to who, what, and why? “It’s a wicked world that we live in.” Lunalesca?

Am I done with the radio yet? And there are only so many times I can listen to Succubus Lord, Satan’s Sorority Girls, or the Bikini Days series. And if it isn’t some work about girls sans clothes. Then I’m getting angry. For now, Lunalesca, all I can hear is the sound of my breathing.

Please! How is that different from any other day? When Virgil has me stressing out. Lunalesca, Virgil broke his streak of not getting sick on the carpet. He couldn’t warn me he was ill when we were outside mere minutes ago. I’m not a mind reader or a prophet, Lunalesca.

But according to a particular program, I could be a robot. It said “AI Generated Text.” Should I be flattered? I feel dead, not electronic.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had AI help when it comes to, let’s say, Sofía’s Nightmare. Not that I’ve been working on that these past few days. I’ve been listening to the demands of my Day Job. I swear, Lunalesca, we need a new plague. I listen to the absolute worst people.

I find myself among the worst people. And then there’s Ma. When I’m not succumbing to my body’s worst inclinations, I fall ill like Virgil. The thought of texting Ma about a bill ties my stomach in knots. Today is the day, isn’t it, Lunalesca? The day I prove to be her failure son… Again.

Lunalesca, as a forty-year-old, I have no wise words. Advice for my past or future self…
Braxton’s Sound Advice, Virgil

1329 Days Without B III, Day 770 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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 075 ~We’ll B Great Again~

A Better World? Not a happy one. Nowhere near great or great again. Back when it was Good Night. Now, like the game Dying Light, it’s Good Night and Good Luck… I might not wake up. I miss such games, my son, my honorary sister. “We’ll B Great Again.”

Saturday, September 14, 2024

Meditation 075 ~We’ll B Great Again~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… If I were… I’m sure I could figure out better things to do in the morning and at night… in bed.

Oh! I mean… besides saying goodnight to B III and then checking whether he’s around. Don’t I mean Virgil? Just when I thought we were getting a handle on his bathroom shenanigans, here comes the storm. And with it, more worries. No worries indeed, Luna.

Has there been a moment recently where I haven’t been horrified, hungry, or a horndog? And what was it I was doing this morning? A week after Emergence Day, Lunalesca. I found myself lost in thoughts about the past, present, and future. Stuff & Thangs.

Didn’t I tell M Anime once upon a time? I only want some beautiful girl in my arms as I just lay here and listen to 50s/60s Apocalyptic Pop Rock? Lunalesca, today it’s Far Cry 5 cult music. Scary huh?

Seriously! It beats my moaning. And what would I consider a great morning anyway, Lu?

When was I ever great? Now, I’ve been watching plenty of political theater these days. You know how I love music. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. Or dog eat cat. I swear from the presidential debate.

What I wouldn’t give to be a child again? Did I really just say that out loud. Don’t I remember my childhood? I wish I didn’t have to. Lunalesca, the English language, would be a lot more interesting. Words like Stupid, Happy, Home, Fear, and I could go on Lu.

Forty years old, and I’m still a child. And that kid was never great, either. But sometimes rare and few…

There was that time during my senior year of high school. There were five minutes. Lunalesca, I lay there on a bench… Alive and Happy. It was a rare moment of pure joy and contentment.

(GASP)

Indeed, that gasp, like the first few seconds after I finally… Uh? Have adult relations, experience manhood, make a mess, etc. For those few seconds, Lu before the depression.

And yet, I yearn to go back to a time when Tenchi Muyo was only an anime show on Toonami, and I wasn’t looking to see Ayeka and Ryoko sans their clothes. Oh Lady Lu… I miss the innocence and simplicity of those days. Sigh

Can I just go back to the days when my ‘adult collection’ was just a binder I hid from my Parents and not the ‘craziest’ stuff ever? It was such a simpler time, Lady Lunalesca.

Remember those days when I used to play video games with my sister or Braxton and watch movies with Braxton’s Aunt all the time? It was before the era of ‘Good Night, Good Luck. ‘ But just imagine Lunalesca. Somehow, someway. We’ll B Great Again

1322 Days Without B III, Day 763 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 072 ~Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate~

I’ve got steak in the fridge. A baked potato. Even a lobster tail. Was anything else missing… Ma’am. I hate going out for food, but I can waste big bucks buying it online. On big boobs. And do I need books on Cannibalism? “Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate”

Wednesday, September 11, 2024

Meditation 072 ~Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Yes, Inspector, I see what day it is. But I’m no terrorist. And I’m not into Cannibalism either…

Tell that to the search bar. I’ve looked up terrorism. And earlier today, it was MEAT by Joseph D’Lacey. Hell! Seeing as how it’s Sunday, September 8, 2024. Why not preach, this is my body, this my blood or something. Why not remember Braxton passed on a Sunday afternoon like this? Am I ready to get back into mourning and grieving my little boy B.

Or am I a woman turning this into my “Emergence Month”? That was wrong, Inspector.

If anything, I’m not here to talk about 1/31, Emergence Day, or 9/11, Inspector Echo.

Today, if I’m lucky, I am on the eighth day of… denying myself self-fulfillment. Hmm.
I’m not messing with “my meat” despite the pictures I’ve been taking lately. I’m gross…

Thinking about more meat on the bone. Again, Eww! But if you want something humiliating, let’s talk about how I get food. I keep going back to Emergence Day 2024.

Echo, it was nothing special. I only had to see people twice. And the only one that really heard my voice was my Ma. If only it wasn’t so expensive because getting some fast food.

How many times have I been referred to as Ma’am? It’s one of the few things that make me feel like less of a man. I don’t pay all my bills. When’s the last time I showed any balls… other than “OF.” And I watched B III waste away. I feel so inadequate, Inspector. I hate talking about myself, really.

Now that ain’t true, Inspector. But who am I kidding? I’m filled with self-doubt. Always

But what else can I say? It’s either my boys, big Yabbos, or the bad things that come around one way or the other. And that’s what I’ve been thinking about as I waste today.

As I, too, waste away. I look at myself, and while I’m particularly proud of one part of my anatomy, it’s everything else. I don’t have a spine; I stick my foot in my mouth and as far as eating my heart out. You know what became of my heart. I’ll give myself a hand.

One is busy talking to you, and the other is usually down my pants, should I care to wear any. Things have to get done. But am I empty or full? Virgil Ate. Braxton’s Fate.

1319 Days Without B III, Day 760 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will