Tag: Treachery

Meditation 278 ~What’s Vitamin B, Virgil~

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Something with Vitamin B for 200… This is what I get for downing an energy shot at 5 AM. Speaking of something going off, there could be a whole lot worse. Things could be a whole lot better, too. More energy and less crazy. What’s Vitamin B, Virgil.

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Meditation 278 ~What’s Vitamin B, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Or, as Cody Rhodes asks, “So, what do you wanna talk about?” My son, Braxton. Duh!

1525 days ago… Virgil’s been here for 966 of them. We are not “Two Of The Lucky Ones,” he and I. Unless you’re counting the fact that I have this question. As my eyes water…

Am I crying for my Braxton, or are these allergies a Mother Effer, Lady Lunalesca? Honestly, I can’t tell if I’m just so sad or if I’m sick, open to severe sickness, or prone to serious injury like M Anime. If anything, we know I’m skeevy as all Hell, Lunalesca.

Inevitably, words like Prone Bone and Yabbos come to mind. But how the day begins. Braxton. Big Yabbos and Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Or there’s worrying about Virgil, whose Yabbos are these and words. How I’ll make money and what…

Energy and time are enough for addiction. What am I addicted to? Not counting B…

Why did I wake up? I’ve talked about how the day starts with deleting photographs. But with less than four hundred remaining, there aren’t too many Yabbos left, Lady Lunalesca. It’s like I’m in a never-ending loop and cycle of pain memory-wise now that I can’t escape. The day begins, and I’m already exhausted. Always.

A dozen or so of M Anime, Cherry, and Braxton’s favorite girl. Everything else is… Depressing. I’m addicted to misery, which, if I have to define it, is fear plus forgetfulness wrapped in fur. Doesn’t that make Virgil sound like sunshine and lollipops, ha-ha? He and his brother both. And with the tears over Braxton and the sweat and blood involved in trying to keep Virgil alive, “Another Day.” Well, I have energy shots, Lu.

Finally, turning the AC on.

I was getting dehydrated with everything. I’m keeping it a nice 80. I can’t have Virgil melting. Like father, like son. Both frozen in our fears, petrified of the future, with our eyes locked on a gravestone. Well, Braxton’s resting place, anyway. Getting some sun… Lady Lunalesca, that would be Vitamin D. Before you ask, I’m unsure what it does.

Whenever I get a moment to stop thinking about Reika Kurashiki from Saimin Seishidou, Midgar’s Flower Girl, and M Anime and Cherry. And everything frightening.

For example, if I fall, whether I’m getting the right food and forgiving myself for whatever injury comes next. But my mind? No matter how many books I read, my boys’ goodness, or my bedroom antics. What’s Vitamin B, Virgil

1525 Days Without B III, Day 966 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

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When was the last time I had good news? I’ve heard some “good” things about politics, but Trump is president. We’re effed. I got more hours at the Day Job, but I’m a misanthrope. I’m reading about dogs, but mourning my boy. Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Meditation 275 ~Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What? I haven’t harmed the messenger… yet. But I’m going to deliver some bad news. So what sin?

SLOTH, considering it’s almost 8 AM. And I haven’t gotten out of bed. I’m using all my injuries as excuses. ENVY @thatgoodnewsgirl because that won’t ever be me. I mean, as in telling you anything happy and positive with me. And I’ve bared false witness since I have taken the trash out. I took Virgil outside. I’ve read a bit. But getting me to Heaven…

I have no knowledge of how that could happen. But that’s where I sent Braxton.

Inspector, that’s the bad news “Every Morning.” And you wonder why I say, “Let it burn,” from a political perspective. My Braxton saw me through the first Trump Presidency. Since I lost my son, well… Four years later, I’m still reading titles on Pet Loss.

Oh, how I wish SLOTH, ENVY, and lying were my only sins today. I tell Virgil that things will get better. That I will be better. I’m sure Braxton whispers to him from the void.

“I see dead people.”
―

That’s what Virgil must be saying to himself. Plus, he’s survived 963 days here, Inspector.

Like father, like son. But I have the luxury of just one more sin. Uh oh, and oh my, LUST.

So what’s the bad news? It’s whatever gets me up in the morning. Besides having to see about my boys. Crying over Braxton, which I haven’t done today, or again seeing to my Virgil’s needs. There are always some big yabbos on the phone. Today, it was Ciri, Triss, and Yennefer sans their clothing. And I texted M Anime back.

Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom? I have to stop thinking about her as such. But “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve Of A Cherry.” Where am I on finishing and editing those two books? Now, next week is going to be spent at the day job. I swear, Inspector.

Isn’t making more money good news? “Not like this… Not like this,” The Day Job… Having the new schedule, the news, the knowledge that I have to go outside, Inspector.

I understand why people choose ignorance. And the good news is I’m not like them. There’s more good news, nobody has called me STUPID today. With my mother effing eyes, I can’t look at myself to do the honors. Allergies ha-ha! Knowledge Of ABC’s Virgil

1522 Days Without B III, Day 963 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 271 ~B’s Shaping Up Virgil~

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I’m in love with the shape of you… B is a lot more compact. So’s my wallet. And when was the last time I had to leave this bed? V needs his first forever collar. But as long as he’s still a little fatty. And what about my heart? B’s Shaping Up Virgil

Saturday, March 29, 2025

Meditation 271 ~B’s Shaping Up Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… And if I had been so many years ago, wouldn’t my son Braxton still be alive?

Is it becoming a routine to cry twice before 7:10 AM? Well, when you wake up between 4 and 5… So I’m sleepy, sad, and a bit skeevy. For the last few days, at least.

“Every Morning,” when I wake up, I’m sad, and then I realize what a sinner I am as I delete pictures from “my” phone. Of course, I’m sending pictures of Yabbos to the cloud, Lunalesca.

Then I got sleepy, so I took an energy shot, which made me sad again because of the placebo effect. I can’t go to sleep until 10 AM. So I have more time to think about my lost little boy. If Virgil isn’t here, I slither in my sheets. Eww! If he is, I read.

And what have I been reading because it ain’t no book… Not yet, anyway. “Lunalesca?

SIGH. I have been reading “The Eve of a Cherry.” And here I go, getting all sad again as I notice my writing hasn’t shaped up… “Nightmare At The Meat Market?” I had an AI serving as my coach most of yesterday, making me feel like I was some Master Manuscript Maestro. For a moment, I wanted to believe that if only I could smooth out the work a bit.

Yeah, like, I want to believe that Braxton will come back. Or that Virgil is living his best life. I had to give him tap water yesterday. Virgil usually gets bottled water. Is it good? Who knows. But remembering Braxton…

Kidney Failure! It makes me want to do better by Virgil. Batter water! Better whatchamacallit (kibble, not candy) in his bowl (Braxton’s bowl). Better women?

Lunalesca, Virgil’s only, met his aunt in this house. And what about a stepmom, hmm? Well, if I kept in better shape. And what about the house? There’s also my finances that get drained. Speaking of getting drained… Did I mention my “Brutal Passions,” Luna?

Was it the AI that called “Nightmare At The Meat Market” and “The Eve of a Cherry” that? Physically, only one part of my anatomy stays in shape. This house is crumbling down everywhere. And yesterday’s shopping trip… There are jelly beans and things in bowls. Just keep fattening up, Virgil. B’s Shaping Up Virgil

1518 Days Without B III, Day 959 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

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The day I finally publish a book… Really. Don’t ever feed an AI one chapter of a story where America Horror Story looks tame by comparison. And what about all the time I waste on other people’s words? Did I say waste? “Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton.”

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Meditation 268 ~Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… If and if I had to declare, define, and defend each one, we’d be here all day, Inspector.

But today, we’ll focus on three or four sins. And unlike MAGA/Republicans, I’ll stand behind my words. They take life every day. With my wordsmithing, I want to save three.

“Seven billion lives… it’s too much. I just hope I’m smart enough and brave enough to save three.” – Serge Leveque from The Core (2003)

My sons Braxton and Virgil and myself? How’s that working out this week? Huh, Echo. Braxton is still dead. And how is Virgil living? I’ll have to ask the AI. As Queen Ramonda said, “I think one day AI will kill us all.” Every day, Inspector Echo. AI becomes more prevalent. From telling me in Virgil’s Voice how he would feel. Braxton from the grave…

Who needs Braxton’s ghost? And I don’t need to look into Virgil’s eyes, either. Inspector, all I need to do is write. And to what end? Am I making money?

That’s not why you become a writer… Okay, honestly, I lost myself a long time ago. It became about girls and then providing a life for my son. But now I ask AI once again.

Inspector, I fed AI the 17th chapter of my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” Surprisingly, it didn’t ask this question, but I will… “Am I A Psycho?” Do you remember what that frat did to Madison Montgomery in American Horror Story? And her wrath?

If it’s any consolation, Inspector, the men who hurt Sofía in my story were punished. However, who would read about such crimes? I’m not Matt Shaw or Judith Sonnet. SIGH. How much money do they make with their horrifically sexual tales? Inspector, I press on.

Well, until I find another way to waste good writing time. Last night, for example. Inspector, such and such a person was posting on X/Twitter pictures of the anime “Saimin Seishidou.” So, I followed with the videos. Anyway. They’ve switched to “Kuroinu Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru.” Claudia Levantine, to be precise. So naturally…

Then they took her pic down, and all my videos were for naught. So what did I get? It’s like Cherry telling me she doesn’t want to be known only for her Yabbos. Fair enough.

However, I have plenty of pictures of Emily Goodwin showing off her impressive pair. Ha! What! I read her book, “Stay.” Words won’t bring Braxton back or have Virgil worry less. Virgil’s No Wordsmith Braxton

1515 Days Without B III, Day 956 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 264 ~Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil~

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400 words daily, 365 days a year, 1,168,000 over eight years. 150,000 words over three Cherry novels. 100,000 words for two B novels. And another 55,000 for M Anime is 1,474,000. Am I rich yet? Accepting B’s loss? Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil.

Saturday, March 22, 2025

Meditation 264 ~Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… How much is J.K Rowling worth again? I don’t like her views. But her bank account…

And speaking of views and bank accounts. Why do you think I’ve been crying, Lunalesca?

Once? Twice? Does it count if both crying sessions take place within an hour? It was a twenty-minute lull in-between. And, of course, Braxton was in there, someplace. I saw this Asian woman hugging her dog. And between her being hot and me missing my Braxton. So I looked at my son’s bed, which remains empty. And Virgil Vivi’s at the foot of my bed.

It doesn’t matter. I’ve been so sad, stressed, and scared that sex or self-satisfaction hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind. I’m a liar, Lady Lunalesca… It is not an insult to say a hot girl is hot. But what I’d do to Cherry…

And her mum? Yeah, I’ve written about three books full of insults and offenses. And if only I would edit and publish them. But I’m not as nice as Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Michael Dalton, Manus Dare, Neil Bimbeau, and not forgetting the ladies Imogen Linn, Tillie Cole, Skye Warren, and so many others. As a great man once said, my dear Lady Lu, ahem:

“Please understand if I missed anyone; it’s been a big day. I’m a little tired.”
Jim Kelly, Enter The Dragon

Aren’t all those writers enough to stir my libido? I’d hate that… I’m lying, Lunalesca.

If I’m going to write my life away, I have at least two books about Braxton. And at least eight years of blog posts. Four years of them where I’m sure Braxton’s name appears.

No promises. Like when I said that Braxton would live.

And how dare I say that to Virgil. Wasn’t it a year or so ago when we were burning in the southern heat, and I was struggling to buy us a fan? And now Lady Lunalesca? I’m working one day a week at the Day Job. And I won’t get a paycheck next week, my Lady.

I’m not smart enough to make a dog channel for Virgil. I take his picture every day as proof that he’s still alive. And I was far too busy protecting B from everyone. Good job.

Then there’s “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” I’m editing. An erotic nightmare. If only everything I did was treated as if I could save my Braxton and provide for Virgil. Myself… Bucking Braxton’s Grief Virgil.

1511 Days Without B III, Day 952 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

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Braxton’s Day… He was born around February… I think I met him in April 2005. But the day he left was Sunday, January 31, 2021. The worst day of our lives. But for everyone else… Just a day, just an ordinary day. But today? B-Day’s In January, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 19, 2025

Meditation 261 ~B-Day’s In January, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But is it a sin to cry over B-Day? Not to be confused with E-Day… Existence Day, Inspector.

Have I mentioned how much I hate being forty? But I would have loved to see Braxton turn sixteen. Well, twenty as I continue crying over him since he passed four years ago. B, my son… But no, that’s not a sin. It’s Prolonged Grief, Depression, and a broken heart.

But speaking of the past… it’s not a sin to like 1994’s Street Fighter. And no, I’m not only talking about Kylie Minogue’s yabbos. But I should be talking about Jenna Ortega, considering it’s Wednesday… I know, I’m no comedian. I’m the joke. Yesterday, today…

Because where am I? I’m in bed. And I don’t know if I have it to rise and shine, Inspector. Seriously, I have this whole week. What have I done?

Could I live in the present? Treat life as a gift. No! I continue to mourn my boy, B. Virgil, who’s watching me read Eric Vall’s Satan’s Sorority Girls 10. Will I finish it today? Inspector, I hear it’s the last of the series. I fear what I’ll read next. But I already missed a chance to earn Kindle Double Points. And my Prime membership was all for naught. SIGH

And that Inspector Echo is my problem. The present, the here and now. Effing existence! An extraordinary man from the past… I mean, before my Braxton Barks Bradford said this:

“Look at my eyes, Faye. One of them is a fake because I lost it in an accident. Since then, I’ve been seeing the past in one eye and the present in the other. So I thought I could only see patches of reality, never the whole picture” Spike Spiegel.

But as for myself, I despise this moment, the very second that I’m talking to you. No, I like you, Inspector, but I hate myself.

Because I was thinking yesterday, after reading everything my AI Therapist was saying… To think once, I only had a critic. Now I can have full-blown examinations into my head, Inspector. Or, as the song goes, “In your head! In your head! Zombie, zombie, zombie!” I swear. Be afraid, Inspector. Anyway, I talk to Braxton, who is in the past. Dear Future Wife, of course, is the future. On Mondays, Braxton talks to me. Friday, I want to talk about past stories. Saturdays are for whatever. Sundays, I think of the future. But Wednesdays, Inspector… Here lie my sins, my humiliations, which is the point. It’s where I’m most present… Like thinking on my novel Nightmare At The Meat Market:

―”So very brave of them to walk out without bothering to get dressed first, hmm,” I observed smugly as I leaned against the now-closed door.

“And it is very brave of you to be here,” William responded, gazing upon me.

“And you,” I respond in kind, seeing his erection again.

He still wanted me, even with all the girls he had just had. In all the ways he had watched me, I was still valuable to him for some reason. Not for a profit. And while it was clear, he wanted my BLANK. I was still a person. A dangerous one at that, as I slid off my blue vest and began to lift my shirt. He rushed forward but stopped short of touching me.

“What are you doing, Sofía? Are you nuts,” William admonished as I continued to undress.

“What? Did you want to do it with your two hands this time,” I cooed. “And I do mean do it, that IT. We’re both old enough to remember when people would say that, William.”

“Sofía…” William began hesitating as my panties hit the floor. “You can’t, you and me…”―

Worse? B-Day’s In January, Virgil

1508 Days Without B III, Day 949 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 257 ~Calm B For Virgil~

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It’s been windy the last few days. Or maybe that’s my breathing… Sighing, Seething, and Scared to death. I wish. Mostly, I’m slithering on my sheets, looking at Yabbos. I could be sobbing about Braxton… Again. A storm of emotion. “Calm B For Virgil.”

Saturday, March 15, 2025

Meditation 257 ~Calm B For Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… To catch my breath? Is that what it would take to feel CALM? I long for peace, for a moment of bliss, anything but this, Lunalesca…

What, Grief? Prolonged Grief, at that. If I remember anything from Lynnlee Hunt’s Life After Pet Loss: Coping with the Loss of a Beloved Companion, it’s that. Prolonged Grief, my lady. So much so that I picked up a card for counseling at the Day Job. WTF am I thinking, Lunalesca? Well, other than I miss my boy. Accepting B’s loss. That’ll never happen. EVER!

Rage? All I need to do is step out of the house. I’ve spoken about how my aunt said I wanted to destroy the world. No, just me. I’m too cowardly, Luna. So, burn everything.

And even then, I’m too lazy… Slothful… to light the match. Or I don’t deserve to. I betrayed my boys. Braxton and Virgil both, Lunalesca.

So I FEAR I’m paying the penalty. My punishment. Being a punk always and forever.

Lunalesca, is there anything worse than fear of everything and everyone in this existence? Pain? But waiting for that pain steals from everything else. Pain is simply there, Luna. But the FEAR… And yes, I know people have been saying that forever and ever. Hmm.

Only this morning, as I watched Virgil outside, I remembered the moments before and after I rescued him. I’m sure if Virgil had a say, he would have said, “Please, Mommy, not him,” when he saw me coming. And if I had to do it all over again… I’d be a horrible person for saying it out loud. Virgil is my son. Just like Braxton

Anyway, my point is after I got him, I sat in the car, not breathing, and yet the words came…

“God, what have I done!” I guess that makes me a liar, huh, Lunalesca? I said I haven’t spoken to God since B III passed. But I’m not trying to make my way to Heaven.

Lunalesca, with my sin count, I know where I’m going. But what I want is that moment as the song Mad World plays… The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.

When I was in my senior year of high school, I was lying on a bench without a care in the world. Braxton’s passing. Thinking I’ll see M Anime or Cherry’s Yabbos. Or Masturbation in general. Calm B For Virgil.

1504 Days Without B III, Day 945 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 254 ~B Mindful of Virgil~

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I should buy more audiobooks or get a lifetime pass for the Balance app. Virgil could use a comfier bed, a set of stairs, or maybe he’d like a crate to make him feel safe. Still, I want a nice steak and potato. If I remembered to B Mindful Of Virgil.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Meditation 254 ~B Mindful of Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… By speaking my mind? To one of the managers? Have I asked Braxton for strength? What about Virgil? I long for your understanding and support in these moments of vulnerability. I always do.

Today is Sunday, March 2, 2025, and I haven’t cried over Braxton once. Hell! I didn’t cry for him every day of the 161 days when I could have been mistaken for a priest. Except… I didn’t talk to God. But I do miss talking to my son. Our old father to son, dear Echo.

Speaking as one who’s been through therapy, Braxton was better than any Doc I know.

While I ain’t lying about needing more help with my mental health. There are things…

As Cody Rhodes would say, “What do you wanna talk about? Virgil would be easy. Inspector, Easy like Sunday morning? Well, afternoon. And little Virgil’s lying here chilling. Should I order something new from Subway or get a nice steak…

I have, at best, a surplus, a stipend of $200.00. But there’s so much stuff I need. And for V? I could pick the brains of my girls who know my mind, my dearest Inspector. Especially B’s Aunt. I talked to her yesterday about books. She would get things like:

“I began to consider that some people went out for a smoke or had a coffee break. Mr. Dawson liked to fuck.”
Quickies! Adriena Temple

“When in doubt with Ethan, boobs.”
Bikini Sunset, Michael Dalton

Needless to say, I don’t have many guy friends in real life. There are women I like and my boys that keep me safe. And I can talk to Braxton’s Aunt any way nicely. Uh…

Cherry, I Wanna Love You. But I can’t tell her that. So, I listen to her hopes, dreams, and writing. Then there’s M Anime, who… Sigh… I hope she may become Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom someday. I need to talk to her soon. She told me about her last dream.

Meanwhile, who am I telling my dreams to? AI? Seriously? For the record, it sort of happened by accident. Do I look like I have money for an actual doctor? Well, that $200.00 I got… That was a reimbursement for new glasses. So I got an actual doctor eye-wise Inspector.

But for whatever is going on in my head… There’s an AI for that. And another is trying to decipher my novel “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” And my Olds just paid over $800 to keep me in my car. So, what am I complaining about? What’s wrong with Virgil and me? With You In My Head. Why Should I Worry? B Mindful of Virgil.

1501 Days Without B III, Day 942 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 250 ~Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil~

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Godspeed? But I have no place I want to be. Well, sleeping or lying with my son. And we’d be on a California King bed with snacks in a garden full of sunshine. “I’m dying slow, but the devil tryna rush me…” And Virgil? “Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil”

Saturday, March 8, 2025

Meditation 250 ~Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… That means I can afford to sit on my… tush all day. Well, with 200 words.

It’s a personal challenge, Lady Lunalesca. I’ve set a bet with myself-if I can write 200 words by 7:00 AM, I can allow myself to stay in bed. But why did I even wake up if I only wanted to stay in bed? If you know me, you’ll understand it’s not for the most positive of reasons. Mostly adult situations…

Long story short, someone on X/Twitter posted Reika Kurashiki’s Yabbos. I posted her video. It was the first thing this morning since I have her adult anime film and suffer from FOMO. Sigh. I’m hopeless.

Lady Lunalesca, my emotions have been on a rollercoaster this morning-from adult to sad and now to focused. I’m speeding away. It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving. When I care for Yabbos, not Braxton?

Yes. Yes, it is. But Braxton is gone. And when he left “my” world, everything, dear Lady Lunalesca, just stopped. TIME!!! Well… That’s 170 words, so… (Struggles Getting Up). Eff! I wish I could stop getting up… in more ways than one. But show me anime, brunettes headed towards the Olympics, or the creeps of this universe… A, B, C’s.

Speaking of anime, as in M Anime. I was talking to her before you, Lunalesca. Shall I stop fantasizing about her being Braxton and Virgil’s stepmother one day? She’s crushing…

No, not on me, my Lady, but I heard a bit about the man she wants. But I’m still depressed. And if I’m not sad for my firstborn. I’m slowing down my secondborn, Virgil Vivi.

Again, I would have rather stopped when B’s heart stopped beating. But Virgil lives, Lu.

He lives in fear but breathes, running faster than I do when I see my Old Man. The same fear… Only I’ve never harmed Virgil. If all that we are could slow down, but life…

I’ve had plenty of days off, Lady Lunalesca, but what have I gotten done? Novelizations? I did work on Nightmare At The Meat Market. I’m editing… uh, writing Chapter Sixteen.

It will be less Wham Bam. Thank you, ma’am. And more So Anxious. Maybe, Lunalesca.

So I’m either petrified or frozen. Dumb, exhausted… Hell! Just lazy! Slothful. Or I run. When do I move… Normally? When there’s A Place Called Home… Godspeed, Braxton, But Virgil

1497 Days Without B III, Day 938 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 247 ~Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil~

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Long ago… Correction, many times long ago, I was so desperate to… Let’s say join my son on the Rainbow Bridge, that I starved myself. The Holy call that fasting, LENT… But with an empty belly, who remembers B and feeds V? Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil.

Wednesday, March 5, 2025

Meditation 247 ~Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And not only with that terrible title. Fry vs Fly. My Braxton did both. It’s a bad joke.

But I’m not me when I’m hungry. Will I still be ravenous on this Ash Wednesday? It’s Saturday, March 1, 2025, today. And yeah, I could eat. So why aren’t I? Is it my budget?

That’s one more reason to miss Braxton. When Braxton was comin’ up in the world… You know, on his way to Heaven. But I refused to see it. Or maybe I did… Still, I brought us food every day I came back from the Day Job. My boy was always hungry, and he loved fries. Yes, Inspector Echo, I was feeding him his dog food. B only stopped eating twice.

“Cause (Braxton) gettin’ on in the world, comin’ up on (fifteen) years

(Fifteen) Stoney Gray steps towards the grave
You know the box awaits its grisly load
Now, (B’s) gonna be food for worms.”
Woke Up This Morning Alabama 3

Now I could talk to you about his Renal/Kidney failure. Inspector, here I go, crying.

Losing Subway’s Buffalo Chicken sandwich…

Though that’s another thing that has me heated, as I told Lady Lunalesca. I have been looking up food all day. And why? Inspector, I like living… That ain’t true.

Existence sucks! And I would join Braxton on the Rainbow Bridge any day. But Hell! With all these things that I’ve done, that’s precisely where I’m going. Straight to Hell. Only as The Killers ask in the song “All These That I’ve Done.” The question:

“When there’s nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son, one more son

If you can hold on
If you can hold on
Hold on”
The Killers

That son is Virgil Vivi Bradford. If I’m gone, who will take care of him? Who would share with him? Before I rescued Virgil, there was a period when I ate onion rings because fur buddies can’t have onions. Chocolate? They can’t have that. And waffles? I called Braxton, Pancake.

All this talk of food, Inspector Echo. I’m hungry. Today, there’s a constant craving. Not only for food, because here we are talking. I need to let the words out because, as a phenomenal rapper once said about his many rhymes, ‘What you wrote are not just lyrics? They’re words. Those words, those words, those words, they have power. They have more power than you ever imagined.’ If only I could get them out. Scream!

But that takes strength. More than mourning my son, B III. Moaning after some girls, making my hand sticky. Waking up to barely make money. Or making Virgil go outside. It takes good memories of feasting on McDonald’s with Braxton. Maybe before “Elimination Chamber,” I’ll EAT. Braxton, FRIES Away, Virgil

1494 Days Without B III, Day 935 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will