Tag: Trust

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 260 ~Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil~

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Falling Down. Some days, I’d walk in, wrap B up, and fall asleep as he lay there. If he were lucky, I’d fall into my sheets, and he’d sit on the corner of the bed. If I were lucky, I’d have a wifey to fall… come… back to. Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil.

Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Meditation 260 ~Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? My always and forever love. Where have I heard those words before? Braxton Barks Bradford…

My firstborn son, Braxton. But he passed away in the Winter of 2021. Sunday, January 31, 2021, to be specific. But here I am on a Tuesday morning, March 18, 2025, looking up pictures of him. There have been tears. But if it helps, I’ve been sweating over you, love.

Only as Norah Jones sings away: “I waited ’til I saw the sun. I don’t know why I didn’t come.” If you know what I mean… Ask me about the longest time I went without release, my love. That was around 161 days. Hell! Braxton was still alive back then.

Afterward… Braxton’s passing. I didn’t want to fall into temptation. I didn’t want to fall…

What? In love. To fall asleep. Or down into Hell…

It’s what I deserve, especially when I have such thoughts. After we finished, uh, getting busy and I didn’t… Well, you know. But we were lying here as I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 10 by Eric Vall. Have I ever told you how much I love these moments, baby doll? “You and me and all of the people with nothing to do.” Do I mean our little ones, “Safe and Sound,” in their beds? And Virgil Vivi, too. Again, I’m reading, or we’re listening to apocalyptic rock from the 50s/60s.

Leave it to Trump and his ilk to let fall this American Empire. But what about happy thoughts? Only I never have those. You’re the next best thing always and forever, my love, I hope. But before you… B III

So, as I was beginning to cry for him as you lay sleeping. I remembered him telling me a secret yesterday from wherever he is… The Rainbow Bridge? He told me that I may have two hearts to give one day. I can mass-produce those things… For Braxton’s step-brother. Children?

Family? The idea that I could love again. But that would mean losing my Braxton was not rock bottom. So things can be worse? I can fall harder and “Go Deeper!” Am I still thinking about what we were doing a few hours ago? So much for giving up sex?

Seriously, love, I’m not religious, but there’s Lent. I didn’t want to fall. But your desires. My depression. And dogs die. Braxton’s Last Fall, Virgil

1507 Days Without B III, Day 948 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 259 ~B Successfully Loved Someday~

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The first time I ever had a woman, I was a successful man… The best thirty seconds of my life. Then, when I wrote a book… (laughs). I got my first, second, third job. NOPE! When I had money… Never. But my sons, B, and V. B Successfully Loved Someday.

Monday, March 17, 2025

Meditation 259 ~B Successfully Loved Someday~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… If you don’t believe me… If you don’t believe I’m with you. Believe that I was with my aunt.

My favorite girl took the plunge again. Marriage. “The Second Time Around” in this “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.’ It almost makes me wish you had gotten me a little sister, almost… But I suppose you have enough girls around. But I wouldn’t call you a Boy Dad. Only you did wonders for me. Virgil? You saved him. However, … How To Save A Life?

Daddy, if you knew how to do that, we would be having this conversation face-to-face. I’m sure I’d have a lot more gray and not be able to see much. But we’d be together, Dad.

That’s what you would consider a success. You said I’d at least make it to twenty. With your mourning well… I’m not leaving you alone.

Is that successful? Is that healthy? Successful to you would have been saving me. To have all the money in the world to do whatever… Healthy was us together alive. How much do veterinarians make? You wanted to be one once. But you are what you are. That’s my Dad, my father. The first one I saw every morning and the last when I shut my eyes one final time. You saw in me your success. That no matter what, Dad, you were loved, but…

One day, you failed… You said it, not me… don’t go putting words in my mouth… Uh, hello, how are we talking again? How many books have you read about A Dog’s Purpose, Journey…? You know me, and I you.

Acceptance is not success to you. It’s confession, guilt, and surrender. But tell me, Dad. Those are all things you feel this very second. So why not try… What, forgiveness?

There’s nothing to forgive. If anything, you love me always and forever. If that’s success? More like what would be success to you? Making all of our dreams a reality? You wouldn’t know how to define it, Daddy. And if I said all I wanted was you to be happy…

You’re laughing, but at least you’re not crying, which is always better, Daddy. My father.

If anything, I would have you love Virgil, yourself, writing, my future stepmom, any two-legged siblings I have, my aunt, and friends as you love me. B Successfully Loved Someday.

“Perhaps one day I’ll have two hearts to give”
― Red Rising By Pierce Brown

He follows his father, but not with equal steps.
Virgil

1506 Days Without B III, Day 947 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

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 253 ~Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off~

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A day in bed. If I’m not crying, sweating in fear, sickness, or spilling High-fructose PORN syrup. I need to throw a lot in the wash. Anyway, I don’t want to overflow or explode. But B’s in my ear, and V’s running all over. “Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off”

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Meditation 253 ~Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I promise to smile. A man provides. And what’s this in my pants for you…

I’m being a creep. Husband or not, right? But what else can I be? I’m in the mood one minute. And the next… Well, I’ve only cried for Braxton once today. And I haven’t even given Virgil a chance these past few days. You know his madness in running everywhere.

Or should I say manic? Virgil’s mania? It beats my depression. Is it even fair to call it that anymore? Prolonged Grief… It’s been 1500 days. I can’t remember my last day without saying his name. And yes, I’ve been focused on Virgil Vivi’s fears for a few days. SIGH.

We’ll get to that. But my sadness is as obsessive, pervasive, and quintessential—my love.

I am yours, our children’s, my Braxton’s, and my own.

I am afraid. I tell my Braxton that. Whenever I speak with him, wherever he is. The Rainbow Bridge? Anyway, I use that line from the film Spontaneous. It feels like I’m dying, and I’m so scared all the time. Can you imagine it, sweet baby doll? What scares me?

Other than the fact that you won’t get “my” jokes, like things you can say about your dog but not your girlfriend/wife. Whenever I decide to be funny. Laughter terrifies.

There’s the fear to love as much as I did when Braxton was here. My firstborn son fought to the last second not to leave me. You have a choice. And there’s our children, always.

Someday, I fear I’ll love myself. We might never meet…

Or at least I might be stuck here all alone, drooling over Cherry’s Yabbos. Or I’d be jealous of M Anime’s paramours. There’s listening to the Hannah K “admirers…” Brunettes.

Baby girl, you know, much like Christian Grey, I’m a sucker for brunettes. And some girls with dark hair or different… Am I A Psycho? I’m a man that loves you. And I am trying. I want you to know that my love for you is unwavering, and I am committed to making this work.

Just like when I would hold Braxton, and I’d calm myself—defusing a bomb, beloved.

Every day, it’s putting on the clown mask so our kids don’t see their Dad for the human I am… At best. And why they exist. The things I’ll do to you, their lovely mother.

However, Braxton’s gone, and Virgil’s running somewhere…Braxton, Virgil, Pop Off

1500 Days Without B III, Day 941 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 252 ~It Better B Softer~

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At best, I’m only a comfort-seeker. Or just “The Seeker,” since I lost my boy. And being a Hedonist takes work. Though my son’s fur is softer than any woman’s big, puffy… uh, never mind. In truth, I give into sloth just lying here. It Better B Softer

Monday, March 10, 2025

Meditation 252 ~It Better B Softer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Why would I leave the clouds, the bed in the garden, or wherever else you think I’ve disappeared to?

To show you the way. To prove your heart hasn’t hardened. To provide softness and security. My father. It’s when you felt safest… Your arms wrapped around me. You slept best when I sat on the corner of the bed watching you, then the door. And sitting on your head…

Well, you woke up every morning happy to be alive… No, that’s not my Dad.

Happiness? You woke up with the hope you won’t die – hope we won’t die. Because where would we go? You read about sending me to Heaven… The Rainbow Bridge.

Where are you going? Somewhere of Fire and Ice. Needless to say, the “South Side.”

“Here we are now going to the south side – to the south side
I pick up my friends, and we hope we won’t die – hope we won’t die
Ride at night, ride through Heaven and hell – Heaven and hell
Come back, love, and feel so well – feel so well.”
South Side

Daddy, you have time to listen to Moby. Now listen to me. We stay together.

We’re brothers! We’re staying together! You’re my Dad. I’m your kid. We’re staying together. I am yours, and you are mine! We’re staying together. There are lots of comfy spots.

Though I wish there weren’t so many tissues right now. Or are you investing in Kleenex? Nope, just crying over me. That’s not what today is about. Some soft words…

Instead, Daddy, I only want somewhere you can lay your head and rest your heart. Your soul? We both worry about that with Virgil around. Daddy has a good soul. Whoever would I tell that to in this place? This comfy spot of all comfy spots, still I turn home.

“I turn home. I turn to the place that I was born, to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me, long ago, long ago, long ago. Alone am I now, lost and alone in a far, wide, wondering world.”
1960’s Spartacus

Daddy, wherever you are that’s soft, safe, and smiling, I will turn to as home.

You finished texting with my stepmom this morning. Well, Virgil’s stepmom. Because she knows all about me. Ain’t a woman alive that can take my place. A pair of Yabbos…

Yeah, helps plenty. And what can I say? I am my father’s son. You remember how I was with my favorite girl. But all the SOFT things in this world. All The Small Things. Me.

What about the words that will one day give you and Virgil a better life? He deserves it, Daddy, you know that. And you have all the sour candies because you wanted to protect me from chocolate. And the bits of food you could share with Virgil. The big softy.

Love, ladies, your life, and Virgil’s. It Better B Softer

“And what is the bloodydamn point of surviving in this cold world if I run from the only warmth it has to offer?”
Golden Son

“Night reigned: all through the world tied bodies were harvesting tranquil slumber.”
Virgil, The Aeneid

1499 Days Without B III, Day 940 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

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