Tag: Truth

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

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I’ve mentioned I love the DEAD. My little B III, the guys that decorate the money… uh, what money? And the ones that get to lie there and do nothing. Is it the fact they all leave me alone? But V shouldn’t be by himself. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But that’s like saying water’s wet. How about tears, Christmas Day, or the bedsheets? I’m a creep… freak.

Whatever I am, I’m alone. But before I become the selfish so-and-so I always am, what about my son, my B? Wherever he is, I hope he found “A Quiet Place…” You know what I mean, Echo. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or anywhere surrounded by people would be Hell. I wonder, has he found his Aunt Carolina’s fur babies, Inspector? And M Anime’s too. Sometimes, I forget the type of person I am. So anyone with two legs, four, Hell maybe more, is better than me. But at least I didn’t leave Virgil when I went to the Olds’ homestead. Inspector, being alone comes with responsibilities, expectations, and even accountability. This is why the fans are still drying the floor downstairs. And people are coming.

Not friends, the fellas, or some female acquaintance. And family? If only my Olds had left each other alone. And I’ve been crying ever since. Thirty-nine years and counting, Echo. And while I’m on the subject, yesterday counted as Virgil’s 500th day here—poor guy. There are pamphlets about how it takes fur kids 90 days to acclimate. Virgil Vivi? Well, Christmas proved it not to be true. As far as he’s concerned, I’m as new as everyone around him. If it had been Braxton, he would have turned all protector. Instead, we were both scared, and you know what I thought would solve our problem. Money, Echo. I’ve been pondering that for three days—that mean green, almighty dollar.

But at the rate I’m going, I should stick with the promise of Teen Idle: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” Because no one wants to hear someone complaining all the time. Virgil and I?

I wouldn’t have to run to my Old Man if I had money. And again these few days Inspector… I still try not to open my eyes, but yes, there are expectations. It’s as if Virgil and I would be a family when we’re more like The Truman Show. Why do you want to be my friend and all that? And I should get back to M Anime sometime. Inspector, as Wu-Tang put it, I’m trying to make a “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.” For what friends? How’s that working out? Hmm. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

1060 Days Without B III, Day 501 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

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Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

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Will this be a bad Christmas? My boy’s still gone. The other one has a full tummy but no special treats. No toys. Ta-tas, or a tasty breakfast with pancakes. There will be no Silent Night here, with the fans running nonstop. Virgil’s Christmas Will B

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Tale 175 ~Virgil’s Christmas Will B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Uh. Now more than ever, I realize what a lie that is. But, worst Christmas ever?

I don’t care to look up my past work, especially 1056 days ago. No. I stopped short, Chronicle 177 ~B In The Present~. That was my first Christmas without my son, my little B III. There will be no pancake come Monday. Or pancakes. I’ve mentioned I have no money. So there are no gifts, no tree to put them under. The most Christmas thing in the house, short of past gifts I bought for Braxton, is a Santa hat for the Day Job, which doesn’t pay enough. Lady Lunalesca, I want to cry. And not just because I can’t buy gifts for the boys. Where do I even begin? I didn’t know when I was a child, and now here at thirty-nine years old…

Lame! What am I? A teenage boy, at least. And if I were an old man, I wouldn’t want to be lame. I don’t want to be Ebenezer Scrooge, either. But “decrease the surplus population?” Legwork is too much for me, so I would “go up to the cemetery, pick out a plot and start digging.” But no Lady Lunalesca. While I was laying here trying to sleep, I what. Inevitably, I did more legwork. “She’s got legs; she knows how to use them,” Lunalesca. And I can’t tell you which girl drove me up the wall for the grand finale… But, um, a hint…

Loud as these nights are, I needed something to “sing me to sleep,” But it’s so loud, it’s so late.

Lunalesca, should I make a Christmas list? And what about Virgil? He can’t want much…

Everything I want is impossible, insane, illegal, or, if anything, inane. But here we go. LATE! I want my Braxton back, or I want to join him. And as for everyone else. No, it’s my fault. Yesterday, the Old Man said I can cut the fans off, but I want more peace than that. Hmm?

Between some woman’s legs? But look at the floor. No girl is walking in here, Lu. Not like this ever. And I have nothing for breakfast on Christmas Day. There is food but something traditional. And look at me being selfish. Again, there’s Virgil’s Christmas. Love? Comfy spots? A Good Day? Virgil’s Christmas Will B

1056 Days Without B III, Day 497 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

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There are a lot of stories, but I don’t want to read any of mine. Hell! My Christmas story. Santa’s not a sorcerer… a necromancer? He’s still alive. But do I want a twist in “my” story like a Netflix or Hulu show? Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… “This is the story of how I died.” No, this isn’t the movie Tangled, but really….

Braxton, do you need a roommate? “Only God Knows Why,” I was asking that, Sophia. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been talking about it for the past week… I don’t even remember how long it’s been. 1055 Days? Of course, those are days without my son. I should still follow him. Why? The floor downstairs is a death trap. The flood, fellas, and my “father.” (Screams)! My boy’s still gone. That’s never going to change, Sophia. Does Santa know Necromancy? And let’s not forget all the “Humiliations Galore.” Um, the Day Job, PetSmart, the house.

Have I ever told you this isn’t my house? Not my HOME! But for my little boy, my B III.

There’s no lights, no Christmas tree, or holiday spirit? Virgil?

I’m sure he’s barking at something. But it couldn’t be to stop Santa from breaking into the house. Does he want to go Christmas shopping with Braxton and me? Simoleons? Don’t I still pay for streaming services and salacious books set during the holidays, dear S? I don’t have money or much time, and every day is spent trying to shuffle off the mortal coil. But I woke up. So, at least for one more day, I won’t give my Olds what they want most… Braxton sits in a box under a lamp. Me in a box beneath their tree. Sophia, I expect far too much of Santa. Hell! Son numero dos? And a sinner like me because there’s no book review today. Sorry Manus

His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare, to be specific. I’ve been getting into movies and TV shows being recapped on YouTube. Are they sent from Braxton to keep me here?

Anyway, I saw “The Mill” on Hulu a day or so ago. If that ain’t the story of this existence. Except for having a pregnant wife, I have two dogs. And with those dudes, the Day Job, and my Dad, even now I want to scream out Sophia, I QUIT!

But then what about black guys and cute brunettes… or girls with dark hair? “15,000,000 Merits” got my attention. No, it ain’t porn… Wraith Babes…

The Platform? I still have to watch it all, though.

Stay alive watching, reading… Not ruining Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

1055 Days Without B III, Day 496 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

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To whom should I send my Christmas list? A Christmas card, a letter? I haven’t even asked B’s Aunt or M Anime what they want for Christmas. Cherry wants people to buy her books. Virgil wants a better human. Braxton… who knows… “Listing Letters B, V.”

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But of course, I haven’t told Santa this. And God? We haven’t spoken since Braxton died. Miscommunication? Failure?

If I’m honest with myself, it would be sloth, simoleons, and my seething. Scummy people. And why did I fall on S today? A lack of sleep? I’m always missing my son. The Big S. But before we go into my selfishness and how people popularize words such as “Unalive.” I want to talk about my son. My Braxton, who would not stand for the mess I’m in right now. This is going to be my third Christmas without him. Some holiday huh! Only that wasn’t Santa breaking into the house yesterday—but my Old Man and my nephew Dylan. I’m telling you, I have to remember that Echo. Forgetting names and titles. Sympathy For The Devil, while I miss my little boy, Pet Angel

Not that I would call Braxton that. I remember the bag my boy came back in. The box that now sits on top of the nightstand that carries him. And I could write all the letters to Santa I want. But how do they say… “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” ha. I doubt some elves could do anything. And what do I want this Christmas, Inspector? While I was at work, I knew exactly what I wanted. But who do I write a letter to? Hmm? Do you know how to get a note to the Grim Reaper, Inspector? The Government? Inspector, I have no clue. Such is the nature of fear, fury, and friendship. Does Virgil have a Christmas list?

A better human? Should I go and take a look at the Man in the Mirror? I’ve been crying for many a reason these days. I don’t want to look at him or anyone else. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? Even now, men are on the way. What do I say? Do? Inspector, not one of them is Santa Claus. I should have let the flood take me down to its depths. To think I call drowning one of my fears. I cut Far Cry 5 off once because my character drowned. Inspector, I’ll put that on paper/on-screen, whatever. But letters to my boys, paying my own bills, or why I hate breathing… The reaper, Santa, my friends. Listing Letters B, V

1053 Days Without B III, Day 494 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

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Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

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“What does a black man call his woman? Mama.” “Cress Theory?” And Hell with everything I need to do today. My Ma’s birthday. Saying hello to Braxton’s Aunt. And the prospect of motherhood. When I’m no kind of man. That’ll B V’s Ma

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I owe my Ma a lot of money. You know, for the EXISTENCE thing.

With how much I hate existing. I’m more a “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” than “The Terminator” type of creature… I don’t care about me, but “I’ll Always Love My Mama.” So Happy Birthday, Ma! Not that I would ever show her this place. Braxton’s Grandma. Lady Lunalesca, I never met my Braxton’s furry biological parents, ha-ha. And I’ve told the story about how Braxton got the name Pancake. Because that boy couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick” myself. “He’s My Son,” that’s it, “case closed.”

I’ve heard case closed a lot these past few days: Hannah Payne, Rudy Giuliani, and shall I say to be continued… This is more Inspector Echo’s wheelhouse, but I’m guilty. Lunalesca, my son is gone.

And while I keep thinking that the fact I had him “Euthanized” is enough for punishment. You know how I feel about that word. Ok, it’s the idea I’ll end up in jail for any number of “my” sins. I imagine there’s a worse punishment than Paramore’s “Ain’t It Fun.”

“Don’t go crying to your mama (Run to your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world (Don’t go crying)
Don’t go crying to your mama (To your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world.”

There’s my Ma that can’t help me. But aren’t I a spoiled, selfish sinner of a son? Who’s paying most of “my” bills? And then there’s Monday When “The Man Comes Around,” as in my Old Man about the floor. Didn’t Noah have to talk to God after the flood? Lunalesca, there’s the promise I made to Braxton. I always said I’d find him a Ma. But we had the same luck with women, sadly.

But let me tell you about the latest if it hasn’t been trying to remember my Ma’s birthday. It’s been me sitting here, continuing to be her biggest mistake. My existence… almost forty years. Because what have I done? And besides talking to her today, there is so much Luna. Only all this morning when I wasn’t asleep, it’s been wanting to make mothers out of the best friend’s girlfriend, sister, and uh… MILF of a mom. I swear this Christmas book I’m reading, His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare. It’s why I had to send V to B’s Room. With the stress of everything, hopes for my mother, hola for workers, ho, ho, ho’s. Looking for comfort, looking for Ma. That’ll B V’s Ma

1049 Days Without B III, Day 490 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

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When out of audiobooks, I should really make a playlist for the road. I did have a “happy…” um, a feel-good playlist. And how do I feel now, listening to the same stories, reading Christmas Lit? All V ever hears is Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I sing you a song? I’m sure Virgil Vivi is singing loud and proud.

Or pathetic? At this rate, I might have to claim him as a child. Not my child! Not my son! That title will always be B III. But who knows since it’s Sunday, December 10, 2023. Anyway, what song is Virgil singing, you ask? “When Will My Life Begin?” Talk about turning the page. Braxton’s still on that pedestal I placed him on by way of the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or wherever. Braxton must be as sick of me in death as he was in life. And while I can give every day we spent together some significance… the holidays talk about a war on Christmas. Hell! I have a war on Thursday, December 14, 2023, which it is now. And on tomorrow… today… whatever!

I swear! The last books I read on time travel were from the Theta Timeline series by Chris Dietzel. That’s what I’ve been thinking about today. Not the series but TIME. I don’t mean the magazine either. Or should I get all political today? U.S.A.’s in trouble…

There’s also por… I mean, men’s entertainment magazines? And as I told B III today. There was the Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 audiobook I should buy. That takes money, ha-ha. I also finished On the Boss’s Naughty List on Thursday. So, a book review is incoming, too. Only what about “my” stories? The things that come up while sitting in a parking lot. Looking back at the past, dare I say there’s more than Braxton? He saved me. Is there anything else? Review?

Boss’s Naughty List Is Nice

I should say more than nice, considering I gave another Ella Goode title, “Christmas Stalking,” four stars. But this one got five, and that’s saying a lot. I was never one for “billionaire” stories… just my preference. But this story was dirty, kinky, and (drools). Again, you never see the villain get theirs. Is that a spoiler? But who reads these holiday bedroom romps for that? And who said anything about a bedroom? It’s Con and Willow in the office. A wonderful Christmas time indeed. And a wicked Christmas read. A naughty bit of prose.

That’s something I couldn’t share with my son. But it’s as positive as I get these days, Sophia. A page-turner? Hmm? Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton

1048 Days Without B III, Day 489 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

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“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

WillLeave a comment

What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will