Meditation 129 ~An Enormous Blank, B~

I bet people are still drawing a blank on who won the presidency. Please be Kamala! PLEASE BE KAMALA! But here I am, talking to the ghost of my best friend. Or a harem girl. The Man In The Mirror. A future wife. But next Monday… An Enormous Blank, B.

Thursday, November 7, 2024

Meditation 129 ~An Enormous Blank, B~

1376 Days Without B III, Day 817 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing how we’re talking from days away. You know how today turned out. Bad? Whatever.

At least I don’t have to tell you I don’t want to talk about it. I’d just flop down, Braxton.

A “Blank Space” Baby B. Am I thinking about Taylor Swift right now? REALLY? NOPE!

I wish all of my humiliations, hedonistic tendencies, and hunger were all blanks. What am I talking about? What will I be doing for dinner tonight? By the time you see this… I should have a little cash to eat. But that’s not the only reason my stomach’s in knots.

It’s election Day, the better of the E-Days. Do we have a new president yet? I’m rooting for Kamala Harris, you know, B. “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” This world is tough enough without you.

And we were always prepping for when the dead walked the Earth. If MAGA won… What would the world be, B? Talk about emptiness, the Endless void, simply the end.

Something so Enormous… I know Braxton, positive vibes. I’m not one for prayer. I hope.

But what do you hope for Braxton? Have I decided to let you speak on Monday? I don’t know. At this moment, I’m still drawing a blank on what I will do. No Rules! Run!

MAGA has a ton for me but not for themselves. And again, I’m not the most “Law Abiding Citizen.” If it isn’t the government or TRYING… to be a gentleman, it’s the GD Day Job.

Monday, November 4, 2024. I’m not even giving myself a break, doing some other BS. Braxton, if I could only let my mind go blank to escape today’s humiliation smorgasbord.

Anyway, let’s talk about us and my thoughts at said hellhole. Working the Day Job! “Brother, my brother…” “Brother, brother, brother…” I told you I’m not listening to Taylor Swift. Blessid Union of Souls and Marvin Gaye. Ok… Reproduction. Conception.

I was thinking how much Christmas… music annoys me and started thinking about the two other ‘holidays’ I get off. The day you passed and the anniversary of my Ma’s biggest effing mistake. I swear…

My Existence. But could I give you yours back? I’ve started reading Pawprints from Heaven. Will you be speaking to me next Monday, Braxton? I long for our connection, mind, heart, and soul, the page… maybe. An Enormous Blank, B

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 122 ~Can’t B Bothered Virgil~

It’s Halloween! What am I? A corpse? The TWD variety? Maybe? I’m still talking to B from across the Rainbow Bridge. And what about Virgil? Well, he’s not worried about chocolate poisoning. I’m not an ordinary human. Can’t B Bothered Virgil.

Thursday, October 31, 2024

Meditation 122 ~Can’t B Bothered Virgil~

1369 Days Without B III, Day 810 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If only I were busy writing books about a dead man. You B. But instead…

If I had my way, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” to sit on the loveseat. You, me, and your favorite girl. Your honorary Aunt. I’m not an optimist or positive in any way. Sometimes, I think the last of my goodness left with you, like something out of Silent Hill. Braxton?

Don’t ask me why, but that’s the feeling that came over me some time ago. Today is Friday, October 25, 2024. But even before I got my latest schedule… Sigh. “I Gotta Feeling,” that “every little thing gonna be alright.” Am I thinking about throwing a Halloween party? No! Your Dad would never. I only want to watch horror movies. Braxton, those were the best nights. Though you didn’t care for the zombie genre, right?

Anytime The Walking Dead, Fear The Walking Dead, or anything related came on, I turned into Lieutenant Dan… “Get down! Shut up! One more nightly exploit I excluded you from. Though I didn’t mind that you saw the Dead. When I needed my private time…

Well, your Daddy becomes a monster. That’s why I always sent you to your room. Virgil doesn’t seem to mind that I am a zombie. But I can be worse. Except he only gets into trouble when I go to the Day Job. He doesn’t guard me when I take naps. He does walk the hallway because I won’t let him in the room until he learns to go outside, or more so on his training pad. I swear, Braxton.

How long did it take you to stop being a little monster? Please! The vets knew those chompers of yours. And you couldn’t stand your Aunt for eight months. Courageous.

Your Aunt is a courageous woman, but what are you, Braxton? A Halloween ghost? Hmm. A zombie like your Old Man. I was the one that had to put you down. Again, it’s like something out of I Am Legend. Am I making a movie list for Halloween? Don’t I wish.

We’re finishing this talk on Sunday, October 27, 2024. Just now… Busy with Virgil? Nope! Your Dad hasn’t become a good man for Halloween. Not even a costume. Playing Dead?

Aren’t I always? Virgil’s Chips from Dawn of the Dead. Can’t B Bothered Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 115 ~Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil~

I wouldn’t call myself a good man. Other than having an Enormous Peni… And liking Yabbos, Black, White, Asian, Latina, Middle East all over, some big ones across the pond. Madness. This is Willie! And I’m a bad guy, duh. Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil

Thursday, October 24, 2024

Meditation 115 ~Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil~

1362 Days Without B III, Day 803 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? “My” day is just beginning. But don’t ask me how I feel… Or should you…

Isn’t It Ironic, B? I was thinking about this at the Day Job yesterday. Remember how when I was in school, your granddaddy would ask me how my day was? “I don’t want to talk about it,” I’d say. And then after the Day Job, you would ask me how my day was… My answer.

“I don’t want to talk about it…” Your granddaddy is in his sixties and you’re in the ground. Well, a box. Whatever. Speaking of things, rather words that cause trouble.

Madness, Baby B. I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday or this morning. An hour or two costs a lot. Sorta like Yabbos. Which is why I warned you…

As Will Smith sang about:
“Listen, homeboys don’t mean to bust your bubble. But girls of the world ain’t nothing but trouble” Girls Ain’t Nothing But Trouble by DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince.

So, I know you and me and all other people have talked about plenty since you… I don’t know. I’m not really feeling the word died. It implies you’re gone, and I need you more than any set of Yabbos. Moved on? That’s the same thing. Transitioned? Now that’s a loaded word. Anyway, I’m going to tell you about what happened yesterday. Because with what happened this morning. My actions. Eww! But Cherry could say she still does it for me. Yabbos I’ve never seen… I need to talk to her this morning. But I’m here talking to… Pure Imagination…

Braxton Squared. You know, one of my favorite heroes is The Incredible Hulk. And why?

“That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Dr. Bruce Banner

What really sets me off, B is the fact that I’m still here, alive and breathing. And for what hmm…

So I’m “awake and alive” Wednesday morning because of some Yabbos and a cute butt.

Now everybody know I’m a mother effing monster, a savage. And other songs from Tillie Cole’s Sick Eff Playlist (rolls eyes). But the universe tends to remind me lest I forget. So I get to the door, and the boss starts screaming while cute butt smirks. So, I scare people?

There’s more. I’m still so mad standing at my locker that I start playing “I Hate Everyone” by Get Set Go,” sigh. Am I in trouble? I don’t know, but I know that was a madman thing to do. And I’ve been wondering. If only I could have shared my emotions so candidly with you. Pets, hugs. 2-V is here.

Feelings… Braxton, Will, Madmen… Virgil

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

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

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

Even without a whole lot of food, toothpaste is still needed and plentiful. I was lucky to find fajita chicken, a bag of tortilla chips, some shredded cheese, and salsa. Wait? I’m supposed to be starving and celibate… Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And how is that sitting in bed today? Bothering to wake up. Opening my mouth. Taking a breath.

I’m sure Braxton would call it BS. Especially since he no longer breathes. One more reason I’m ashamed about today. Or should I say yesterday? Honestly, I’m such a Republican.

Not really, Inspector. EFF MAGA! But you know what I mean. I’m so ashamed about the past, but at least I have the stones to talk about it with you. What about Little Virgil, Echo?

Virgil and I don’t talk. Ever… However, I’ll ask him the same questions I once asked Braxton whenever I came back to the house. Manners Maketh Man. Right, dearest Echo.

“Just me, Baby V. Did you have a good day? Good day?” Ask Virgil how many times I’ve confused the letters V and B. It’s not funny. I know, Inspector.

The things that come out of my mouth. And what’s the last thing I’ve said to Virgil. I woke up at 3:48 AM because it wasn’t a good night. Only to say… well, the s-word and why. I’m talking to you at 8:54 AM, so I’m late. What was I doing last night besides trying to make chicken nachos? Inspector, I have a theory that Braxton was always eating because he didn’t want to tell me the truth. His full belly was pushing out sadness…

Eww! Was that a joke about Braxton’s bathroom breaks? I meant I’ve never seen Braxton sadder than when he had a full belly. His last days? When it was empty…

Braxton’s Euthanasia beats out any sins I’ve ever committed existence-wise.

But let’s talk about yesterday. There’s all my talk of making a better “life” that doesn’t mean anything. When I wake up to mornings like this, Inspector Echo. Wasting time.

I can talk about the blonde in the gold bikini that broke me after what? Three days? As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” After I woke up my “Big Willy,” Inspector. Eww! And if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Cherry. Moaning, stroking.

Besides the stress from the Day Job, take a look around this place… “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies,” lots. “Many men. Many, many, many, many men.” Then there’s looking up bad guys. Like Isaku? My big mouth, Inspector. Dad’s BS, Braxton, Virgil

1354 Days Without B III, Day 795 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 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 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 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