Tag: Trust

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 274 ~Sanity’s Plan B, Virgil~

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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~

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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~

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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 267 ~Just B Peaceful Virgil~

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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~

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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

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