Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Have I ever been 100% honest with a woman? I wasn’t 100% honest with B. And I love him like pancakes. V and I? 969 days, we’re feeling each other out. But sending a woman pictures of Sawa sans clothing. Should I lie? Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Meditation 281 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And love doesn’t have to be synonymous with happiness. I’m never happy. It’s like Pontypool.

You know your husband is a movie buff. And just this morning, I got a sample edition of the book Pontypool Changes Everything. I’ve seen the 2008 movie. Reading books?

Today… Not with our boys or their other siblings around. Virgil is lying here. And my Braxton is somewhere on the Rainbow Bridge checking in. Always and forever, my son.

Anyway, there are the things I don’t want them to know. Like I’m never happy. But I want you. I want… well, the less-than-innocent stuff I’ve been reading about, for us. I finished the “Comfort After Pet Loss Guide” yesterday. I know it always comes back to my boys, love.

But even with Braxton and Virgil, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since… Damn…

Language! Or, as Effie Trinket would say, “Manners!” I’m not one for swearing with my everyday vernacular. But in the throes of passion and rage. My language’s quite Colorful. Heh-heh!

Only can quiet be a love language? I couldn’t teach my boys to be happy. And our family, my love. “I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.” I talk about wanting quiet, and here I go, singing a song by Fleetwood Mac.” That’s rich.

It’s like I have some secret. Or rather, we have some secret. Like how sad I am all the time. Yet, it’s the “Time Of The Season.” Where I can disguise all these tears as allergies. All this damn pollen!

I’ll say that out loud. But Braxton and Virgil can’t read. Uh, Braxton? Let me try to stay on the subject of you and me. And not spill secrets to my sons Braxton and Virgil.

Honestly, I want to write out my darkest fantasies with you, my love. Or read about them, as M Anime has been doing an excellent job writing them. Again, I find inspiration in such dreams. And that’s what I’m looking for. Never happiness. But horniness, inspiration, love, a thought of copious cleavage, titanic tatas, supersized slobber knockers, majestic mammaries. Anything to lessen the pain of… How much time do you have? Always and forever, my love. I’ll have to tell you everything. But not my boys. Braxton and Virgil’s Miseducation

1528 Days Without B III, Day 969 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

I like to think that I’m a “Simple Man.” I’m sure lots of people think that I’m simple enough. And that my sons, four legs, fur, and friendship were/are better men. Both of them would make better Presidents. But me? “Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.”

Monday, April 7, 2025

Meditation 280 ~Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… not an enigma to be solved or with enough of my fur to be glued back together. A genie…

You wish to have me back every day. A few times every day. One more reason you either try to fill the world with noise or you crave sleep the same way I wanted McDonald’s. That sounds so good right now, but this isn’t the movie Bedazzled. And you don’t have $3.47. How much does a Big Mac and a Coke cost now? Also, you got what, a buck fifty?

Also, also, I’m not the Devil. I’m always and forever your son. Our bond transcends time and space. Whether it’s a real-time conversation or a moment in the future, I’ll always be your son. Daddy?

Today or next week, I am what you wish for the most. But there is more, my father. I promise you there is. Like Virgil?

“Ain’t got no money. Ain’t got no fancy car. Don’t live a life of a millionaire. Or a movie star.” But you’ve sang to him. He snacked with you on Zaxby’s yesterday. And even when the house was burning up. He sat with you as you read about missing… Me.

Honestly, Dad, I’ve got “Nothing But Love” for you both. Like father, like son, Dad. However, I can’t blame you for thinking that it is not enough. Fortune, fame… Everything!

“I ask for wealth, I ask for fame
I ask for glory to shine on my name
I ask for love I can possess
I ask for God and his angels to bless me.”
Notre Dame, God Help the Outcasts

It’s your second wish. Your promise to me when I had everything. I wish you believed it. I would look at you and think, “The World Is Yours,” and in this moment, I am happy.

But you believe if you had me and money… Maybe…

You wouldn’t be afraid. That’s your third wish. To never be afraid ever again. Daddy? Dad, I could tell you, Be Not So Fearful, but I might as well say quit breathing or breaking your heart over me. How about not mooning over Cherry’s and M Anime’s Yabbos? My favorite girl… I can moon over hers. I mean, Dad, you gave me comfy spots, however…

Anyway, if we talked about Yabbos or what you’re afraid of right this second… Seriously, we would have eternity together. But you’re wishing for what you want right now, Dad.

To have me your boy, Elon’s billions, and to Live Brave because then comes power. However, hear me or don’t. All You Need Is Love. How? Wants, Wishes, Whatnot, B-Rated.

“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness, I want sin.”
― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

“Without hope we live in desire”
― Virgil, Dante’s Inferno

1527 Days Without B III, Day 968 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 278 ~What’s Vitamin B, Virgil~

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~

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 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Laughing With God… THEY say God is Love. My Braxton is Love, but he didn’t laugh. He would give me several looks… Virgil looks at me like I’m the Joker. Women… Maybe it’s a good thing my allergies have my eyes all catawampus. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Meditation 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That would make me mad. But we’re all mad here, love. But by how much?

Considering I would trade Faye Valentine, Sawa from Kite, and Alice In Wonderland to have my firstborn son back. My Braxton. There’s living “For the Love of You,” my wife. There’s even the prospect that I could love the “Man In the Mirror” someday. Insanity.

But to be a better man… Someone who could set a good example for our children. I wish I could see it. Seriously! I need to buy some Benadryl or something. Allergies are a pain.

And speaking of pain, it would be a joke to say I’ve let the pain of losing my Braxton abate. I won’t say I’ve turned around, and it’s worsening. And, of course, ACCEPTANCE… No! Never! Because going back to a time before I loved him…

Hell! To go back before I found Virgil. I think I was on the verge… Of disappearing. And how would that have occurred? “I Still Believe” my Ma made a mistake, not using Plan B. But “What Is Love?” A form of insanity. And what’s with all the soundtracks today?

I’m keeping myself from crying over Braxton. I’m still chalking my watery eyes to pollen. And if anything, I want to drown out the laugh tracks today since it’s April Fool’s Day, my love. Though with all the madness going on, I’ve been debating whether love is the biggest joke of them all. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving.” So, to sing “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.”

Like Clarence from The Book of Clarence, not only to believe but to know I will always love my Braxton. All the darkness that I still have. And the knowledge you’re my “Obsession. There’s Braxton. I may love Virgil someday. And even that won’t compare.

What, to us? As I said, there’s darkness or whatever. There’s a reason Faye turns me on, and I want to go all Kite on you… the Uncensored edition. And there’s an Alice In Wonderland outfit in the closet. I love you, always and forever, and your lovely big Yabbos.

Movies, music, and manuscripts. All that your husband loves. SIGH. May I never know sanity. For if I do… To be united with my first love. Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil

1521 Days Without B III, Day 962 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

I’ve never prayed for better for me. I wish for better for my sons. That B ended up wherever good boys go. And if I were going anywhere than the 9th circle, he’d keep a warm spot by the fire for me. V deserves better. He looks up. Just Look Up B

Monday, March 31, 2025

Meditation 273 ~Just Look Up B~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Can’t you see me? Do you even want to? It’s like seeing what time it is. You’re not late.

But I bet you never wished I’d be sitting on your head, serving as an alarm clock. Or a rooster… Fifteen years, Daddy and I never got to see one of those chickens in person. Or doggie. What was one of my rules? The best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket or box. Ha! Remember those times, Dad?

But being in a box myself… Seriously, Dad, are you laughing at me? Are those tears of joy? Sadness? Or is it from that yellow dust flying everywhere? It’s storming outside. But how much of that got into my little brother’s fur? Virgil’s still white as a ghost or spirit.

Honestly! Virgil could be afraid. Or is he still a blank page waiting for you to define love for him?

You haven’t been writing about love a lot, my father. Pain, Pollen, and potential stepmoms.

Do you remember when I had to take my medicine? And you always had to put it in something good. Like father, like son. And this worked to my benefit. When you would go out. But you would come back with those golden stick thingies that would taste so good. Those were the moments I cherished, Dad. Those fancy foods…

Did I mention there are so many things to love about The Rainbow Bridge… Food, futons, and comfy spots galore, and the color fuchsia… Well, more like colors in general, Daddy. Though, like you, I prefer black and red. Our battle standard. Our flag. Representation.

The thing about that, Dad, is that you must look up to see it. Everything

Sure, there are reasons to look down. When you would pick me up. Don’t forget to pick V up. Mostly, you do that because you don’t like his panicky run as if you would shut him out. Like father, like son. You think I left you 1520 Days ago. But I didn’t. Only, Dad, you have me feeling a bit like Robin Williams in What Dreams May Come. Do you remember? It’s okay to remember. It’s OK to feel. But:

“It ends when you want to stop hurting (him)”.

When you stop thinking of my ashes and the dust-to-dust stuff, dream of the better world you imagined for me. When you see the words from your lap, put them on shelves. When Virgil’s on your shoulder like me, or you see my stepmom’s eyes and my siblings in your arms. Just Look Up B

“Raising the dead when it suits us…”
Raymond A. Villareal

“The only hope for the doomed is no hope at all…”
― Virgil, The Aeneid

1520 Days Without B III, Day 961 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 271 ~B’s Shaping Up Virgil~

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~

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 267 ~Just B Peaceful Virgil~

When B was here, it was “Love you, B, love you, Braxton.” With V… “Later V, later Virgil.” And that’s when I can get his name right. I don’t try with people. I don’t say their names or wish them peace. It’s only “Later.” Oh, to Just B Peaceful Virgil

Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Meditation 267 ~Just B Peaceful Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And not myself? That’s like asking if I will ever accept my son’s loss.

My boy. You, all that you are, our family. And peace. That’s what I’ve been thinking about since five this morning. I can’t say I’ve even cried today… I’ve been a little misty, I suppose. As long as I avoid mirrors, windows, and V’s eyes. But Baby Doll, there’s you.

Unforgettable, that’s what you are. What about Love and Peace? Before I get into the man you married. Or the man you married gets into you… Uh, eww? Let me tell you what I’ve been looking for. Looking so hard that my eyes hurt. I’ve downed an energy shot to keep from closing my eyes. I even took a couple of painkillers. But I’m not loopy enough to see Braxton on our bed, on guard duty.

Ask me when I was happy, free, or not a misanthrope… I can tell you when I feel alive, in love, at peace. How about when I’m a husband, a father, just a man? Everything!

Over-stimulated, overwhelmed, and overflowing. My love, the man you married is over being alive, and yet “Here I Am.” “All Yours.” Lucky you. Ha! I am anything but a man of peace. But again, that’s what I’m looking for. If nothing can bring Braxton back, then at the very least, give me that. Let me look to the corner of our four-post bed in peace.

Honestly, “Every Morning.” More like in the afternoon when I’d nap after the Day Job.

And there would be Braxton keeping me “Safe and Sound.”

But now, “I Feel Everything.” And that, my love, is why you married a hedonist. Because if I must feel, let it be pleasure instead of pain. A sadist? It’s the only time I’m nice to myself. And it shouldn’t be that way. To hurt you, even if you enjoy it all to save myself.

Do you know “How To Save A Life?” You find peace within yourself. And that’s not me, my love. My peace might as well be the backyard fence, my body, and my furry little Braxton.

Breaking! And the only peace I find is reading, writing, and looking at the broken.

Honestly, that’s not peace but pieces. Is a piece of a man enough? A man’s peace. Just B Peaceful Virgil

1514 Days Without B III, Day 955 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 266 ~B Used To Know~

I’d never call myself the better man. I am nowhere near “The Best Man” I can be. But my son B knew me better once. And if it hadn’t been me… well, Virgil is a little white kid who just happens to have four legs. I have better jokes. B Used To Know.

Monday, March 24, 2025

Meditation 266 ~B Used To Know~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And I guess that makes you The Seeker. You’re not just Somebody That I Used To Know; you’re always Daddy, the one I look up to, the one who guided me here and there.

Always and forever, my Dad. But how come you’re crying. If anything, how are you crying with what happened this morning and afternoon… Yeah, you locked Virgil out for a little bit this morning because you were upset. And this afternoon, you needed alone time…

Is that how you think you’ll get rid of me? The sins of the father. All for what you want.

You want to join me on The Rainbow Bridge, wherever. It’s your first thought every morning. Why are you awake? Somehow, someway, you have to stand, stay, and survive. Of those three, it’s the staying.

I know you’re worried about surviving. And standing. We fall down, but we get up. Granddaddy taught you that, or Donnie McClurkin, or me? Stand when you have to, but…

I know you don’t want to. “Not like this. Not like this.” Like you’re living in a dream world, Daddy. Or a nightmare… What does M Anime think she knows about nightmares, Dad? Well, she’s lost a fur buddy of her own. And do you really believe M Anime will be my stepmom or Virgil’s anyway? You have to survive to see. Then there’s Virgil.

Daddy, I want him to see. As I said, you hide from me with your sins. But you hide from V with your sleep and his. You both sleep so that you don’t have to. So he won’t ever know.

You saved him. He survives because of you. What did that get him? Because Somebody That I Used To Know…

My Daddy? Who are you? You’re my Dad. And you’re wise. A warrior you can work, write, and move the whole world. Am I trying to motivate you today? And to do what exactly. You can tell I’m speaking because I won’t say Get Here if you can. Not soon.

I’m my father’s son. And I used to know you. I still do. Like the Glow box said. You use music, movies, and manuscripts. And haven’t I, Daddy, all so I can tell you… whatever.

Sit and Stay. Not stranded in bed, mourning away, making movie scenes, or not moving. Sit where you always did as you bragged on how rich we would be with one manuscript. I know you’re better. B Used To Know

“I do not have an excuse to give up.”
― Golden Son By Pierce Brown

“Friend, have the courage to care little for wealth, and shape yourself, You too, to merit godhead” ― Aeneid, Virgil.

1513 Days Without B III, Day 954 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son