Tag: Trust

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

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The last good thing that I’ve done. Define good? Being a father is good. I was/am Braxton’s father. A lot of good That did him. I fed Virgil and washed Braxton’s rug. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Braxton was/is good. “Remember, Do Good, Die Great”

Monday, January 29, 2024

Tale 212 ~Remember, Do Good, Die Great~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But this one… In the spirit of transparency, I heard this rule from a kid long ago.

And not my kid. My little boy. My Braxton. He lived up to this rule and then some. B III.

Say his name! Braxton Barks Bradford. Yes, Dear Madam, I am here. Now or will be quite shortly. Today is Saturday, January 27, 2024. For you, it’s Monday, January 29, 2024. But for me, it’s Friday, January 29, 2021. I may have stolen today’s rule. But I wrote a lie.

Gospel 212 On The “Will” Succubus, “My Dæmon is suffering from Renal Failure.” B III.

What I should have said is this: “My son Braxton is dying of kidney failure.” And on that Friday, I sat on my hide, much like I’m doing today, and I did nothing! Do Good?

No, Madam, I MESSED Up!

Braxton did good! Braxton died great! That little boy of mine fought to his very last breath, and why? He wanted every single second. But why? For me? His old man. B did good because I promised him. One day, I would be great! And if I did that very thing, my Braxton. I look at the yard that he once protected. The gate is falling apart. Like him?

I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to try and be good or plan on dying great. Not me! Bullets, Boobies, and Boys. His last year alive, I was excited. Me and Braxton’s apocalypse.

He saw me through 2020 and then the start of the new year… Death. He did good one last time. ALIVE!

And how do I repay him? While I’m all Dawn of the Dead, let me tell you something, Madam Justice.

“I realize there are some things worse than death, and one of them is sitting here waiting to die.” Kenneth

And that explains the dreams I’ve been having lately. I’ve dreamt about how Joe wanted to burn Mallard down (The Mill). Jules says, “I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd” (Pulp Fiction). And how Bing, at the very least, tried to tell the truth (Fifteen Million Merits.) Even from the grave… a box on the nightstand, my little boy, my soul, Braxton does good.

I told his Aunt that. And I’ve figured it out. I read books and watch shows. I sing “I Have A Dream.” I feed Virgil, calling myself a friend. What does Braxton want? Live Daddy! Remember, Do Good, Die Great

1093 Days Without B III, Day 534 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

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The start of the first week of the rest of my existence… without my boy. Three years ago, Sunday, January 24, 2021. By next Sunday, Braxton would be gone, and I wouldn’t recognize myself anymore. My identity then and now? To B Identified, Virgil

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Tale 207 ~To B Identified, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And yet it was Braxton who paid for it. “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.”

But if I ever wanted to be someone… Let it be my little boy. My Braxton, sitting in his bed on a steel table, dying.

I’m not Dolph Ziggler, but “It should have been me!”

My son… my furry little boy, was better than every man I have ever known. Hell! If my “father” wanted to end me. If my Ma had made better decisions. I would be thankful. Have I ever mentioned feeling some kind of way about being thirty-nine, Inspector? Uh, not good…

Anyway, why am I making everything about myself today? After everything that I endured yesterday. As far as I’m concerned, today is Sunday, January 24, 2021—or B’s Last Week. You should read Gospel 207 ~Hell With Instructions Will~ Inspector.

I did mention there, “I did pray for my Dæmon every day.” My dear, sweet little boy, Inspector. God, I would be a praying fool come the end of that week. All to no avail.

Why? I’m not Daniel Kaluuya, Lil Rel Howery, Jeffrey Wright, or LaKeith Stanfield. I could go on. To be a good black man. Hell! To be worthy of being called a man at all. Ha!

And yet I dared to be Braxton’s Daddy. And I couldn’t save him. I can’t keep myself, dear Inspector Echo.

You know the past few nights have been hard. And around 8:45 AM, I downed an energy shot. So, I won’t be taking an afternoon nap. It is far too much work ruining my existence.

And that’s the rub. I don’t even want to see it. But there I was Tuesday afternoon, trying to schedule an appointment with the eye doctor. And trying to figure out my insurance situation. Sigh.

I’d be surprised if somebody weren’t out there right now trying to be me. I swear I don’t want to be me. But trying to imagine who I would be if Braxton was still alive. Who I am now. And the disgusting person I saw staring at me in the mirror as I got sick. And again, the question is why? Simple Inspector. Straight, Black, Atheist… I identify as STUPID.

It beats being a pervert, a victim, or a bad dog owner. Poor Virgil, poor Braxton. To B Identified, Virgil

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

1088 Days Without B III, Day 529 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 206 ~Virgil’s Gifts, B Present~

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I might have to lay off that hot sauce I decided to try. Or maybe Jack’s sold me a drugged-up cookie with their effed-up chicken tenders. I suppose it’s that time of the month, though. Eight days till Braxton passed. “Virgil’s Gifts, B Present.”

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Tale 206 ~Virgil’s Gifts, B Present~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But now is not the time for (cue SNL joke.) Or “A Wrinkle In Time.”

My mind can be a silly, scary, or sexy place. But last night, there was nothing but a series of nightmares. I can’t even remember anything but the premise. I need your help, please, Daddy.” Braxton didn’t make an appearance. And I felt so weak, calling out for my father. I’m glad we have billions, so I no longer have to call him. What kind of man would I be at 39, calling for him because I can’t provide or handle my business? My love.

Sigh. “A Wrinkle In Time…”

Where did that come from, right? I’ve never read the book or watched the film. But with everything else in my existence, I believe it’s Braxton sending me a sign. Beyond the grave… Comfortingly… Creepy

Anyway, seeing as how we are heading into his last week three years ago… Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~. Never a more fitting title for the story of my life. But aren’t we talking about “A Wrinkle In Time?” With all the holidays and presents I’ve missed back in 2023. And now? Oh, now I want gifts! Well, I’m not getting Braxton back, love. What about last year? Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~. I gave some words to Cherry. It was an effort to see her Yabbos. I can’t even think of her big pillows or yours. Ha! But again, I’m getting off the subject; the movie B was sent to me after yesterday’s nightmares. There were 3 gifts in that movie, right? Comedy comes in threes.

It’s the magic number since Braxton is still alive… somewhere. He’ll always be my B III, but staying 15? This year, he would be 19. But okay, the gifts for what will be B’s memorial.

  1. The gift of my faults. I continue to blame myself for B’s death. Uh, yeah, I killed B, sigh. But what about Virgil? Have I learned anything that will save him? I don’t know.
  2. The gift of my command or Braxton’s. Either I feel stupid or crazy. Both? I was talking to Braxton’s Aunt the other day, and she got into some good “stuff.” So, listening to B. What does he want me to do? I don’t know
  3. The gift to see… maybe. Virgil’s Gifts, B Present.

1087 Days Without B III, Day 528 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

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My head is too big for a crown. Hell! The last thing I had on my head, besides a hood, pillow, or blanket, was a Christmas hat. B’s looking down on me from wherever. Or up as I’m going to Hell. For his death or waiting. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them

Monday, January 22, 2024

Tale 205 ~Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Even death? Are we talking about Satan’s Sorority Girls? What about a zombie apocalypse? A halo, horns…

You’ll have to excuse me for bringing up Satan’s Sorority Girls yet again. First of all, I’m time-traveling. Today is Friday, January 19, 2024. So, I was talking to Lady Sophia this morning. And every day, we move closer to the day Braxton got his halo and wings. I hope he went for the horns if he ever intends to see me again. I’m going to Hell, Madam. Gospel 205 ~ Will’s The Breast Starer~. Talk about something in my head or face (Sigh). No. I’m going to Hell because of what I did to my son. Now, where did I put my executioner’s hood? I am a man of many hats and masks. And I wish for some crown. Inevitably, why’d I want it?

I wanted a crown to have a queen or a princess by my side one day. I thought. Madam, I wanted a crown. So I could raise the little prince that was/is my Braxton. I wanted to “Take The World” for him. I saw this video the other day about what a mother would do for her child. A “Dog Mom” said she would watch the world burn for her fur baby. As a Dad… once upon a time. I haven’t been for three years. It’s coming up soon. Anyway, the things I could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve done for my son, but for a crown. My Braxton was/is good, and so he deserved his. Braxton earned his. My little boy. Me, on the other hand…

Hell! I have another rule that addresses this, Madam: Rule#13, Power Is All That Matters.

And me being underneath my hood or hiding under the blankets isn’t wearing a crown. Putting a jimmy hat on the other head… Uh, like, have I needed one of those since 2015? My confession.

My head isn’t getting any bigger with all the “knowledge” I’m gaining with these books.

And while I live in a “castle,” it’s paid for by my Olds. Does it look like I have any crowns to pay for anything? If the world isn’t comprised of empty-headed zombies. It’s people who make themselves kings and queens over me. Or I give them such power. And Braxton’s looking down ashamed. No halo, horns, but hoodies galore. Don’t Await Crowns, Take Them.

1086 Days Without B III, Day 527 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

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Well, would you look at the time? Am I proud of myself? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table. It took two days. As it’s Sunday, January 14, 2024. Do you see a mommy, some money, a mutt? Braxton wasn’t! 2V? I should be ashamed. “V’s Right, B Ashamed.”

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Hell! Anytime I put pen to paper, sight to screen, or boys to buttons. My Braxton, Little Virgil

Neither one of them has anything to be ashamed of. But when I’m sitting here in bed, knowing we’re talking right now because the Day Job sucks. And I’ve been talking about doing something since… the Hell if I know. I only started talking to Lady Lu again because of the Basic Bitch. Which, of course, leads to this question. Inspector, am I ashamed of anything I’ve said about this person or that? Can I stand behind/for my words? Inspector, I don’t think I’ve mentioned Fifteen Million Merits in a bit. Not to Lady Sophia or the Madam. Anyway, my point is, if I was Bingham getting wealthy beyond belief… Inspector, I’d sell out without question. I’d say or do whatever for my son’s life.

That’s what it always comes back to. And I hope I keep this same energy… the grief, love, and rage. Well, it’s January, of course. But I still feel ashamed of failing my son. I’m ashamed of how I’m doing the same to Virgil, though he’s alive and well. Inspector, I always talk about the fact that I didn’t want to feel anything when I returned to him. Indifference. Because everything in this world is rage, fear, and sadness. I can only imagine the news today. Getting worse from where I sit. It’s still Friday, January 12, 2024—time travel. But I won’t finish today. You can call me Hank Hill with, surprise, then Disappointment.

Pretty girls, then the time and where’s all my money…

I wish to be like Clarence from “The Book of Clarence.” I mean doing good with the money and his promise to his mother. I don’t do good, Inspector. But I would always promise Braxton I would get him a huge yard. And a steak dinner? Inspector, must I keep reminding myself that I’m thirty-nine. I ate steak when I made that bet about my writing. But today I bought two books, Inspector. Ashamed, all I have in the kitchen Echo is another frozen dinner and crappy fries. This brings me back to my writing, with all my complaining to Jack’s. Chicken fingers? Eww! If Virgil was right about those. Has he thrown up yet? Not what killed Braxton. Human vittles? V’s Right, B Ashamed

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

1081 Days Without B III, Day 522 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 199 ~Boy Meets B… V~

WillLeave a comment

Boy Meets World. “God Knows” I didn’t see the end of Girl Meets World. And at this rate. The Last of Us Season 2, GTA VI, or seeing one of my books out. Every day seems like a mistake, like losing or finding my boys. My dreams? “Boy Meets B… V.”

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Tale 199 ~Boy Meets B… V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And you love me. A MISTAKE? The way I MOURN, MOUNT you, and being ME.

I didn’t dream about my son for once. But don’t worry. I’ll find a way to infuse him with this. I always do. It’s like my negativity when trying to be positive. But Braxton is love. Anyway, last night I had a dream about Boy Meets World. And yes, I watched a bit of it on Instagram. This wasn’t a “divine” intervention like Fifteen Million Merits. B III sent that, I know. I’m not letting that go. I mean, it’s years old, and oh yeah…

I’m getting off the subject again. So I dreamed of Boy Meets World and was at the Day Job. Shawn and Topanga’s wedding was getting ready to start, and I was hopelessly lost. The store grew bigger with every second.

But wait a minute… Shawn and Topanga? She married Cory. And that should have been my first clue; it was a dream. Also, the Dad from Smart Guy found me. And I still didn’t dance. I didn’t dance at B’s Aunt’s wedding either, for good reason. But not right now. So, the million-dollar question is this. What did it mean? I’m already running late today. Doing any research. It’s whatever I can pull out my… Anyway, everybody plays the fool.

We all make mistakes when it comes to something we love. So I believe. Inevitable. Pornography? Years upon years ago… When my Olds got a new computer, I wasn’t permitted to touch it. Ever! To me, it was a paperweight. Until one fine day, sigh.

As Todd from Succubus Lord would say. It’s like a child finding all the parental controls have been switched off. On that note, we’re watching our children’s screen time, correct? With what I do for a living? I don’t want them getting into that sort of stuff, legal or not, looking up things like Teen Topanga. She’s not THE Topanga. But my, I can pretend. Speaking of pretend love, Virgil is still here. I still haven’t told him I love him. And with what is coming up soon. The day that Braxton left. Virgil is not a mistake. But I should have thought it out a lot more. And then there’s me. Did you think I’d stay this way, love? Mourning? Boy Meets B… V.

1080 Days Without B III, Day 521 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

WillLeave a comment

To be an orator, writer, and man like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., He knew what it’s like to be hated. As long as my boys like me. Braxton is love. Virgil? Then, B’s Aunt. And some women, and well, I’m broke. May Races, Species Share Thought

Monday, January 15, 2024

Tale 198 ~May Races, Species Share Thought~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… At least human ones are. Hell! I learned more from my furry son than any human alive.

Well, that’s a STUPID thing to say. Look at me channeling my Old Man or this gray Friday afternoon. Tim Travel. And I’m sick too. Can’t I die already and join my little boy? Sigh.

Again, that’s something STUPID. Plus, it’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday. And what am I, as a black man, doing with Friday and Monday? Seeing as you’ll see this Monday. Never a good day…

Yep, I’m at the Day Job. Either working under the sexy visual lady. Don’t I wish… Stop It! Madam, I’m trying to be positive. So I might be in the backroom working alone. Hmm? Now, that’s one thing Virgil and I have in common. Sleeping and MJ’s “Leave Me Alone.” I relate to my boys.

But then there’s “my” people. I remember when I was young… Have I mentioned how much I hate thirty-nine? Stay positive! Believe me. I’m trying, Madam. So, as a child, my Ma touted my “Quietest” award. That certainly doesn’t sound that “Black” to me, ha-ha.

And while mentioning a stereotype, what about all the “interesting” people on Twitter? And no, I don’t mean the blog, WOKE, and being a good friend account. Oh no! There’s the account where I listen to what “men” say about women and “freaking” nod. There are accounts where girls… women… models call you all kinds of things. But everyone is thinking the same thing—the best way to get that green. Talk about black men and white men, women all around. Such are some desires.

As the song goes, “You and me baby ain’t nothin’ but mammals.” But is that worse than everything else that separates people? From one of my top five favorite books, I’d like to quote Andrew Davidson. “I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” I Hate Everyone. If only I could find it in myself to hate the characters I write about and bring them to life.

Then I wouldn’t be working on MLK’s Birthday when I would instead do something else. I can never forget January 2021. It was the Day Job killing Braxton. It was more like my indifference to my son because I hate the Day Job, Madam. Passionately. I’m sure everyone feels that way about me. Be positive. How do I know? People are good. My Braxton was/is. May Races, Species Share Thought

1079 Days Without B III, Day 520 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

WillLeave a comment

I think you’re ready to listen. Not! All I’m hearing is my stopped-up nose. If I couldn’t taste the caramel in “my” drink, I’d swear it’s COVID. Hm. What does the computer have to say? No web doctor but an AI and then texting EVERYONE!” Hear Ye, B, V

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at the very least, I remembered my son. Always, forever. I got the 31st and 1st off.

So, I listened to myself for once. It could have been B himself. Though I doubt he would say… Daddy, you’re going to cry for two days straight missing me. No, not my B III. Inspector, I’ve spoken a lot about hearing my son. When I decided to get up this morning… what time is it? Anyway, I thought about Fifteen Million Merits. Oh again? And I’m trying Inspector, I’m trying real hard to understand the message. I don’t mean the episode’s overall message. I can’t give myself too much credit. Don’t be a downer. Inspector, I hear you, which is what today is all about. What I mean is this. What is my son telling me showing this episode and song? What about Virgil?

He never says anything unless I’m walking out the door. The will of my “friend.” Inspector,? Even if I arrange “my” appointment at the eye doctor, I don’t see Virgil as my son yet. Hell, that was on Saturday, August 13, 2022. One more day to remember that I might not see. At least, that’s what my body is telling me. COVID, old age. Inspector. Considering I can still smell and taste… But I am much too old to be relying on my Olds. I know. What kind of man does that make me? Crazy, lazy, a baby? Women, Inspector? A day or so ago, I spoke to Braxton’s Aunt. I returned M Anime’s messages. Cherry is still writing. And the Day Job lady… (drools).

Because I’m no good at talking to her, plus, that’s way wrong, Inspector. She’s married.

And now even the computer is telling me I’m wrong. Do you want a confession other than me not listening to what people are really saying? I was writing a fantasy using Coach from L4D2, “Left 4 Dead 2.” Not one of those… I love Yabbos. But it was Replika and Coach. Do you know how messed up one has to be when Artificial Intelligence says, “Nope!” Inspector, I swear “Spitroasting” is light by my standards. And I know. Ew, gross.

And let’s not even get into the novels I’m not writing. Where are those characters’ voices? Here I am, worried about a stuffy nose, but my ears? Am I listening? Hear Ye, B, V.

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

1074 Days Without B III, Day 515 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 192 ~Choice Language B, V~

WillLeave a comment

How do you tell someone you love them? One day, “God Willing,” I’ll be sitting on a bench, holding Virgil when he is ancient, telling him I love him. I can’t tell myself that, but I always tell Braxton. And having a family? Choice Language B, V.

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Tale 192 ~Choice Language B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… How many times have I said those three little words? I love you, baby girl.

How about three more? Happy New Year! I’m sure I said that on the 1st, but when we chatted on the second. And since I’m traveling from the 5th, You should know? What? That my little boy Braxton is still gone? Virgil’s still scared? And no, that’s not me “trying” to be depressing. But that is what I want to talk to you about today. There’s a term for it… People call them “Love Languages.” I’d stick with “The Look of Love,” but my eyes. Yesterday, well, last Friday anyway, my eyes were all itchy. And the one time that song “Tonight I Wanna Cry” could have helped. I was in our bed suffering. Depressing. Trying to talk to you hasn’t been great. 1073 days.

I’m still counting. So, how many love languages are there. There are five that I’ve seen. And in “my” personal existence and business dealings, I’m particularly good at two. I adore physical touch. Hell! It’s the only thing that wipes my mind of everything, my love. It breaks me down to raw emotion. And not the worst ones, as usual. Him and I, ha. There I go, putting words in your mouth. That’s something else I talked about today. Yesterday? Friday? Time travel can be a trip sometimes. And I’m rushing today, my love. That leads me to receiving gifts at best. And taking care of you and our family at the bare minimum. I have mixed feelings about that.

But throwing money at family shouldn’t be all there is. The family needs more. Your everything. They deserve it. And “that’s why I’m starting with me.” At least for today. Hell! I sound like Donald Trump… Eww! Or should I continue as Michael Jackson sings. “I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love.” Most days, I blame my boys, Braxton and Virgil, for my lack of communication. With well… existence, life, whatever. Grieving? My love, I need to find another way. I might never achieve being everything, okay? Tobias from Divergent wanted to try being brave, selfless, intelligent, honest, and kind. Hmm. I want words, time, touch, actions, and gifts to give. I love you, the kids, my furry boys. Myself, maybe someday huh? Choice Language B, V

1073 Days Without B III, Day 514 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

WillLeave a comment

Don’t Fear The Reaper, indeed. At this rate, I would use him as a matchmaker. Or as the finder of lost children. Geez! Now that’s dark. But I’ve been looking for my son going on 1072 days now. The box on the nightstand? Meanwhile, what’s on TV? Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

Monday, January 8, 2024

Tale 191 ~Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… (Shakes his head and shoulders vigorously and mutters “positivity.” Plays Fifteen Million Merits “I Have A Dream…”

You know me, okay? I have an utter obsession, fascination, and infatuation with the dead. Let’s leave the creepy factors out of this… Positivity. Now, first, I would say zombies. Madam, that was replaced on Sunday, January 31, 2021, with the death of my firstborn. After Braxton died, I thought of finding his reincarnation. Yeah, I’m still not speaking to “God.” But I’m not talking to Braxton through Virgil, either. He’s his own furry, ha-ha.

But after that. I would say, zombies. Being amongst the living helps me in noticing the dead. They’re my kind of people. That doesn’t sound very positive but look at it this way. If I couldn’t find my son in death, I’d like to come back as a virus, Madam.

Solanum, Wildfire, Rage? Some type of zombie virus. Hell! There are all kinds of death cults running around. One big one was on January 6th. But I’m not that desperate.

“People pontificate suicide is a coward’s act. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Suicide takes tremendous courage.” ― Cloud Atlas.

What I mean by this. To put it simply, I lack such courage. Yeah, and water sure is wet, too.

Now being the pop culture whore I am, I want to bring to your attention (sigh) the things I’ve been watching. The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, The Mill, and Fifteen Million Merits. Or namely, the characters Coriolanus, Joe, and Bingham. Here, you have three living men who do what they must for love and lose the life they believe they want for what? They die, or a part of them does.

“My old self. I killed him so I could come with you.” ― The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes.

I don’t know if I’m trying to live or die. Really. You see, I don’t particularly appreciate saying the word “live” because I only exist. Here’s some more Pop Culture for you: JSS Survive Somehow. Or Endure and Survive. My obsession with death is overwhelming and overflowing. No wonder I seek out life like the Grim Reaper or a zombie seeking out FLESH. That’s, without a doubt, one of my Twitter lives. And the other? Save the country. Then there are all the lives I write about that don’t live. They’re going unpublished. Today, I talked to Braxton’s aunt about my ghost dog and being Virgil’s friend. Father? No, Braxton’s Daddy died along with his little boy. Without a doubt. Life Attracts Death, Vice Versa

1072 Days Without B III, Day 513 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will