Tag: Writer

Meditation 193 ~Plan B To V~

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A Snow Day! I don’t have to go to the Day Job. My eye appointment was canceled. And 2-V was like, “You’re out of your damn mind! I’m not going out there! Even if I match!” Anything can happen! Even being positive in the “9th Circle,” huh. Plan B To V

Friday, January 10, 2025

Meditation 193 ~Plan B To V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Of how I was happy once… Perish the thought. The last time I was close… Uh…

Is that what we’re going to talk about? Seriously! What else is there? Lady Sophia…

“Snow day! Snow day, snow day, snow day. Snow day! Anything can happen!”
Snow Day

And to think, once upon a time, I wanted to be a weatherman. No, better. A meteorologist, my lady. And this was way before I met “Weatherman” in school. I wonder what happened to that guy. He would make these weather reports in school. And if the boy told you, it was going to snow… Don’t bother getting out of bed. The boy had passion.

Lady Sophia, with all of the tales I’ve written, what happened to my passion? Dedication?

Well, I made it to the dining room table this morning. Such were my feelings of euphoria. I’m nostalgic because snow meant avoiding humiliation. School or today’s eye appointment. Ha!

I should have my eyes checked. Then, I would find happiness. I must be positive…

More like B Positive for Braxton. Hell, Virgil is white too. And apparently, the last thing I need right now is a white guy telling me what to do. How’s that for some DEI, MAGA?

Virgil is okay. The snow was a pleasant surprise. I’m all for white women… Well, all women, but today, the women that got me going… Anyway, there’s the white page.

Didn’t I enjoy Sinclair Lewis’s book? And I sampled Yevgeny Zamyatin’s novel, We. But I can’t tell you a thing about it; I was so out of it last night. And my eye doctor is a white guy. The vet that saved Braxton’s life… Memories.

So, correction. I don’t need any of MAGA, and that includes their tokens, Tim Scott, Byron Donalds, Candace Owens, etc. Telling me what to do. Schooling when there’s no school.

Aren’t I supposed to be talking about things that feel like a snow day? Honestly, the moments that give me a feeling of… Hope. I don’t know. Let’s say that gets me out of bed.

Some girl was in my lap in the backseat of a car. Ah, first time. To be chosen over air… (Cue Homer Drool). There’s watching movies with B III and his favorite girl. Or, Virgil. There’s reaching 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. All these things give me a Snow Day feeling. And yet I smile, going nowhere. Plan B To V

1440 Days Without B III, Day 881 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

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When Braxton was around, this bed was good for one thing… Sleeping. Because who knows what would happen if I went beyond the door’s threshold. Food. Fury. Female Friends. But always there was the problem of FEAR. So positivity? X, B, V, Unknowns

Thursday, January 9, 2025

Meditation 192 ~X, B, V, Unknowns~

1439 Days Without B III, Day 880 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day, you’d ask… After napping too long. How it was or what I did…

At this particular moment, I’m feeling lost, B. I’m wiping the tears from my face, struggling to be positive. I’ve even talked to Inspector Echo about FEAR, PAIN, and RAGE, my boy. You know your Dad can be a bit hot-headed for any number of reasons. But it comes to…

Stupidity. I want to ask you how you grew up so fast. Because being here…

Braxton, I know, I know! Again positivity. But everything, everyone, and everywhere makes no sense to me. It’s like I tell people all the time. I’m here. This point, space, and time. And like those same people B III It’s me, hi. I’m the problem; it’s me. Dear ole’ Dad.

Today, though, at this very moment, the thing that scares me is the Day Job. eSign Topper Change… Doesn’t look like anything to me. Even if you knew what to do you wouldn’t know what to do. It’s all Greek to me. And is there anything else from Pop Culture?

How about play? That ain’t something we should speak on. But my Dad never taught me about women. And now I’m into Judy Alvarez, who reminds me of a tattooed Irish lass. Sextra Credit. And now I have a thing for sisters, B. You swore off women… Not your aunt.

Thinking about our movie nights with her and food… I got forty dollars, Braxton. How do I live off that? It wouldn’t bother you any.

That was a bad joke, I know, but the fact that I could make it with how you passed away… But Virgil is here, and he’s still unknown. Even though you passed, goin on four long years. Still wakin’ up at late at night cryin’ tears. R. Kelly? Seriously? Disgusting!

Changing the subject… What book should I read next, B? I finished “It Can’t Happen Here.” I value your opinion, my boy. Though back in the day you left all the reading to me. Right?

There’s also TV. I finished the second season of Squid Game on Tuesday. Any thoughts? Well, other than that, I was Gi-hun, and you were Jung-bae. And I… The friendship?

Being positive? What will I do to honor you and to remember? Running late. Because into the unknown… I would rather sleep. You know about that. X, B, V, Unknowns

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 186 ~What B Reads, Virgil~

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I won’t talk about “Lord of the Flies,” “The Moonstone,” or the names of anybody that I owe or will owe. And as much as I enjoy A Different Alchemy, it’s sad. But the names and pictures of Girls On Film. And the memory of my son. What B Reads, Virgil

Friday, January 3, 2025

Meditation 186 ~What B Reads, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… A positive story? We’re three days in, and I can show you less-than-stellar reads. Texts, Bills…

But, no. I’d never stop. Speaking of never stopping. I’ll never stop writing about Braxton.

Is it puppy love? My boy is fifteen, and the other one, V, is four. But every day, as I mark the dates on the calendar, I’m reminded of the joy of fatherhood. It’s a testament to my manhood, to my role as a father.

I like that I can go back at any time and read the novels I wrote for and with Braxton. Sophia, that’s one more thing. Another day gets me. You can see I’m trying… Positivity.

There’s another chance to love. “I Don’t Know How To Love Him,” I swear the songs Braxton sends to me as I sit here. Is he talking about myself, Virgil, or my feelings for him?

Again, there’s the Day Job.

Payday! Lady Sophia, I feel like Winston Smith here having to use Doublethink. If I’m to stay on the positive side of the line… I have a Day Job, a paycheck, and adult money. Wow!

Yesterday, as I sat there contemplating life… Not Existence? Life? It’s so hard, my lady. You know, playing Mr. Brightside. I would say, “Let’s Go Crazy.” This is day three. Remind me, Sophia, to write down B’s songs. Anyway, I was looking at expected deposits.

And so I’m looking forward to having the termite inspector in and out of the house without too much damage. And while I’m talking about music, I have Dale Carnegie’s audiobook “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living with my dystopian reading list ever-increasing somehow.

Plus, there’s when I put pen to paper. But let’s focus on somebody else. There’s always Cherry. While I enjoy reading her work, I won’t lie to you, Sophia. When I hear that ping… There’s hope that it will be a picture of her Yabbos. Pretty much any girl, actually.

Disgusting beats Depression. Does it not? So, I like working on galleries and erotic fiction. It’s another testament because some of these girls have dozens of pictures to their name. B III has hundreds, meaning organizing would take me much longer. Love over Lust, Hmm.

But aren’t I trying to keep it in my pants? And Kindle is all sorts of confused. Am I being liberal or libertine with my reading? What B Reads, Virgil

1433 Days Without B III, Day 874 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

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“This isn’t too bad…” I’d tell B after anything I wrote. B couldn’t read, or could he if his looking down on my t-shirts was a sign. But he’s not looking down on me now… He wants me to follow through with writing. “Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil.”

Thursday, January 2, 2025

Meditation 185 ~Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil~

1432 Days Without B III, Day 873 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I promise to be positive, I promise to be positive, I promise to be positive!

Yes, those are tears in my eyes, B. I’m only tired… mostly. And the day hasn’t even begun yet. Does it start from my first breath at midnight? Does it begin with eyes wide open?

You know we’re coming back to that. The first song you sent this morning, Braxton. Creed’s, With Arms Wide Open. But anyway, we’re talking about how the day begins, B.

Is it when I do something like go to the Day Job? Again, I promise you, little B III, positivity. It could be the day’s beginning, which is actually my DECOMPRESSION. When I give myself fifteen minutes rushing back to bed after I return and Make The World Go Away.

Obviously, with your musical selections today. Tupac, though, “rapped” this. However, with you B:

I feel his (paw) on my brain. When I write rhymes, I go blind and let (my son) do his thang

And speaking of all the music. There are so many things I need to do at the beginning of the year. For example, what will be the first song I play on Spotify? Something positive…

How about something promising? That’s Creed for ya. But you were a “happy” accident when you became my son. I’m sure you knew about your brother before I ever did.

And with Virgil’s Gotcha Day, I need to take off from the Day Job at the end of the month. A day to honor you, my son. And that leads me to what I’ve been thinking of a bit, B.

“What can I do to get me to you?” I swear you know your music as much as I sang. Obviously, that’s Steve Conte’s “Call Me Call Me.” Anything but positive. But I am trying.

And in my quest to make our future bright, I made a promise to you. I promised to become an author, to buy a big house with a massive yard for you to guard. And in this house, we would be so far from the hustle and bustle of the world, except for your honorary aunt. And of course, I promised you two-legged siblings too.

You’d be an Old Man saying, I’m getting too old for this (stuff). Promises, Resolutions. Like Master Yoda, “Do or do not. There is no try.” If… when I succeed in building you Heaven, Paradise, and Elysium, you will return. But positivity… You never left me. Braxton’s Promising Rhymes Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 179 ~B’s Blaming Bills Virgil~

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I still have Netflix. And since I’m paying, what am I watching? The Six Triple Eight? Squid Game? Uh… I’ve seen The Book of Clarence how many times? A man with no money, no woman, listening to white people. Ah, Christmas! B’s Blaming Bills Virgil

Friday, December 27, 2024

Meditation 179 ~B’s Blaming Bills Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Better yet, I should read you a bill for this Christmas. Some are for books, okay.

But the biggest one at the moment will require me to get off my keister and head to the bank on this rainy afternoon. I could have done it this morning… And if my keister or another part of my anatomy was worth more. On Onlyfans? I swear, Lady Sophia.

https://onlyfans.com/1455686321/willyswants

Publishing books… Haven’t I said I want to do that too. The only reason I got up from my nap at 1:00 PM is because of M Anime. She wanted to see my story… our story. The one from her nightmare. Nightmare At The Meat Market. The things I think about women, dear Sophia. And what I think about myself as a man. Will anything change with the new year? Besides existing in dystopian fiction…

I want to buy either the next book or existing under a Trump Presidency. No wonder I’ve been a lot more liberal with my words. Or should I say conservative? Haven’t I brought this up before? When it’s Mr. Nasty time on X/Twitter, I get a lot of ads from Elon Musk and MAGA. Makes you wonder. My other page is much cleaner, give or take the occasional wrestler… Here’s looking at you, Roxanne Perez, and Piper Niven. Or my nostalgia for Final Fantasy. The good ole days when I was only writing poetry, Sophia.

But that’s not paying the bills either. And since my 40th E-Day, what have I done? I canceled one bill for the man who’s paying most of them. For shame

At times, I feel like I’m not living up to the expectations of a man. Duh! Instead, I’m a burden, a bill that no one should have to pay for.

Only, I’m here. It’s what I tell everyone, Lady Sophia. I take up Space. I don’t Hold Space as Clarence’s mom told him. I could do what I do in the ground. Now that’s dark.

But something must be in the black because it’s not my bank account ever. I’d rather have the black in something… Eww! Do I ever stop? Did Braxton ever stop eating? Twice. Once on his birthday. And it’s the saddest I’ve ever seen him. Full and fat finally but depressed.

The second time… Nope! I haven’t cried today. I need to see the cost of existing. B’s Blaming Bills Virgil

1426 Days Without B III, Day 867 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

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It’s sad to say I had better days when B III was sitting on my head, and I couldn’t breathe. Now I hit the snooze button and hope I’m not breathing in 15. Christmas spirit indeed… Don’t check my “OF.” Such are the times, the days. B’s Bad Day, Virgil

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Meditation 178 ~B’s Bad Day, Virgil~

1425 Days Without B III, Day 866 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It is 4:10 PM. So my day… Well, I didn’t share it with your brother.

Though Virgil is asleep at the foot of the bed. He still stays off your corner. And your bed, B? I don’t even worry about it. Your scent lingers, Braxton. If Life Finds A Way…

However, there’ll be more on that later. How was my day? It was a bit of a rollercoaster, B. Some parts were horrible, some were terrible, and some were just plain stupid. But I’m here, and I’m thinking of you.

Let’s start with standing in the Walmart parking lot in the rain and thinking weirdly. Usually, they start at the Day Job and come out fully cooked coming back. And speaking of fully cooked, we need to talk about Christmas too. Seeing your grandparents, B.

Anyway. Here is the thought: I’ve never had three good days in a row. Before. With. And even after you. Comedy comes in threes, right? But evil is infinite B…

And you, my son, were my Langolier. Where do I keep getting these nicknames I never called you in life? I swear I should read a Stephen King novel. Not that I regret reading Brave New World, 1984, and apparently the appendix edition of Fahrenheit 451. And I want to waste more money on Satan’s Sorority Girls 8, Ryan and His Beauties 2, and Bikini Sunset. And I still have to read, It Can’t Happen Here” What, a good day?

Again, three good ones in a row. But what counts as a good day in my eyes? One, where I don’t mind opening them. Even if you were sitting on my head. No homo, as Todd would say. One where dropping dead is No Bueno.

But let’s sum up yesterday… I visited your grandparents for Christmas and sat with your great-grandma. I didn’t talk much and let your little brother take the heat. I filled up two to-go boxes… three if you were here and left. Then I took Christmasy pictures, you shouldn’t see. Eww.

And today? I went to the Day Job and had to lead a guy around as we made Christmas disappear and got doused in green glitter. I got hit in the face, my leg is hurting again, and of course, Humiliations Galore. Humiliated at Walmart, robbed, and a nap later…

And here we are. Needless to say, I don’t wanna go to work. Friday is gonna be effed. There’ve been worse. B’s Bad Day, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 172 ~Virgil, There’ll B Christmas~

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Any GOOD Christmas stories? I’m not trying to be an ungrateful SOB. My Olds are upper middle class. But when I think of Christmas… I’ve watched A Christmas Story with B. Chinese with his Aunt, Pokémon Stadium from my Ma. Virgil, There’ll B Christmas.

Friday, December 20, 2024

Meditation 172 ~Virgil, There’ll B Christmas~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… A Christmas Story? Nah. That’s one more tradition trashed. And I can’t even blame Trump there.

You know how they once played the movie for twenty-four hours straight. Do they still?

Anyway. I will blame MAGA for not getting my Christmas FREEK on. What there was romance in Brave New World. And Winston and Julia in 1984. And what about today…

More Books! More Books! And not Christmas gifts? What about proper food? I said that? When I’m still trying to get M Anime to take off her clothes. Albeit with a bit more subtlety. And what about presents for my boys? What about Braxton’s Aunt, Cherry, and M Anime anyway? And where would I get these gifts from without being a sell-out, Lady So? Walmart, Amazon, big corporations, and the smallest places are all decked out for Christmas, Lady Sophia.

What about myself? We were supposed to be talking at 4:00 AM, but here we are at 7:50 AM. It didn’t help that around 6:30 AM, the most Christmasy thing I did was EDGING for girls in their Christmas finery. Or at least wearing red. I didn’t white it out.

Actually, black or BLACKED is my current kink at the moment. But I’m not spending any money on it, thankfully. And I’m trying to stay away from Onlyfans. And as far as my Wish List? I’ll save that for tomorrow. That is if I remember. I’m forgetting yesterday’s humiliations still. The Day Job, which I hate and apparently can’t do either. And I’m still ashamed. But having balls, reading books, and the boy I lost…

No! None of those are Christmas stories, Lady Sophia. And honestly, Sophia, besides reading dystopian fiction and my ever-draining bank account, I’ve been going over M Anime’s messages. Audio, since she had a work accident. And fantasizing over Cherry’s words.

I swear that woman could get more money out of me than my Old Man did. Ten dollars for an Amazon raffle. And I don’t expect Wednesday to be much fun. But I won’t starve.

Then again, who knows. Because instead of telling you my desires, I have to pick and choose what we’ll have in the fridge and the pantry before then. Sixty simoleons. It’s a bit tight, and I could use some support.

Whatever! If I’m lucky. And seeing as how my Old Man called… I’ll still be alive? Virgil, There’ll B Christmas.

1419 Days Without B III, Day 860 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

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I haven’t read the books I wrote for or with my son in ages. And the book I’m reading now… It’s going to hurt. I’m preparing for the U.S.A. next year. Remember, Winston was thirty-nine, and I’m forty. No B III, no Julia. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

Thursday, December 19, 2024

Meditation 171 ~Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton~

1418 Days Without B III, Day 859 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how I’m sitting in bed on Wednesday evening. And I’m still counting scars…

Well, different forms of PAIN anyway. Earlier this week, I discussed having a headache, bum ear, and aching leg. You can add a stomachache to the mix. Whether that’s from letting you down, thinking about tomorrow/today, or 1984… It’s all a mess, Braxton. The usual.

But it sucks even more when you know what’s going to happen. Only packing the car with your things hurts more than Winston and Julia being arrested by the Thought Police. That scene… I’m getting into George Orwell’s novel, huh? If I were, I wouldn’t be tearing up today. As always, Braxton, whenever something gets me upset, I think of the worst day of our “lives,” and here I am, still alive. But who knows what horrors tomorrow will bring.

If I were smart, I’d get the Winston and Julia arrest out of the way and focus on the Ministry of Love. It would prepare me for the Day Job. And if only I would publish one of our novels already. Tuesday, M Anime messaged me about, Nightmare At The Meat Market. I was so dedicated to it back in November. And how many stories did you watch me write that amounted to nothing? I last sat at the Dining Room table a few weeks ago. Or even sitting in the recliner reading while listening to some 1984 Ambience, B III. Again, I’ve been reading worse things. The bank account, pill bottles, and a grocery list. I swear that scares me more than my writing.

But what about Virgil’s story. Talk about the Ministry of Love. He comes scrambling out of your room like he’s seen a ghost… Did I say that, Braxton? You haven’t been haunting him as he’s desperate to get in here with me. If he knew how to use training pads.

You’ve seen that he does, but he won’t step into your spot, which brings us back to money and what I should be buying. No, not more dystopian books. Christmas, Harems, Pet Loss, Training, everything under the sun. Like me sleeping at noon every day? What about how to be a better parent? And you’re a Big Brother, aren’t you? But we are the dead.

Not me, but being so brokenhearted. Virgil’s Booking Pain Braxton

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 165 ~Virgil, Braxton’s Reading What~

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I noticed Kindle kept track of my reading on September 6, 2020. According to them, I read 23 books. B III didn’t live to see the following September. But I have a feeling he’s still here. I need to clean up my reading. Virgil, Braxton’s Reading What.

Friday, December 13, 2024

Meditation 165 ~Virgil, Braxton’s Reading What~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I was asleep, the end. It’s 9:30 AM. So far, I’ve read clocks and bank statements.

Is this how Braxton felt anytime I started reading anything at all? My little Gaston.

No, Sophia, that wasn’t one of Braxton’s nicknames. But I did have a wild night of sleep, dreaming of Disney Princesses and OTHERS. I know, Eww! My dreams are making up for my lack of Christmas Romances this year. Though Brave New World has a bit of bedroom action… I can’t say I wouldn’t have behaved as Bernard did. And John not having Lenina… Sophia, I was going to say something, awfully MAGA. Again, Eww!

And that’s why I’m on this dystopian shtick. Is it any better than reading romances?

That’s one more reason I’m late this morning. A picture is worth a thousand words. Violet Myers and Bang Bros.

Sophia, I swear M Anime told me a dream she had about wearing one of these Oktoberfest outfits. But when Violet did it, they called it Oktoberbreasts. And to think I’ll never make it as a writer. Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Michael Dalton, Jack Pinkhunter…

Sophia, when I’m not looking at existence as a musical or a rock opera, it’s some HARDCORE movie, if you catch my drift. Or it’s my personal Hell. Everything hurts.

Honestly… I don’t know what that lady’s sign read; I was too busy thinking like some skeevy director or writer. And didn’t I read the grocery bill yesterday? Real food…

Whatever. As long as Virgil ain’t starving. I should read a book on dog training. But Braxton didn’t need one.

A newspaper to the behind… Those were dark days, Lady Sophia. So’s my reading list.

I need to finish Brave New World today. Depending on who you ask, Kindle vs Goodreads, I’ve completed 52 books this year. And I’m about to waste even more money.

What comes next, Lady Sophia? I WANT to read Satan’s Sorority Girls 8 and Ryan and His Beauties 2. I wish I could lean into tradition for Christmas. But again, I’m reading about the world I have to look forward to. 1984, Fahrenheit 451, It Can’t Happen Here, and others. And what of my writing? It’s been a struggle, and I feel like I’ve wasted another twenty-nine dollars. So yeah

Inevitably, I’ll be broke if my Old Man keeps texting. I see why dogs don’t read. Virgil, Braxton’s Reading What

“For in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” Ecclesiastes

1412 Days Without B III, Day 853 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

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Global Warming, Climate Change… I haven’t worn a coat because I’m always angry at people. Or I’m humiliated. I should erase my browser history, etc.… I’m always taking the heat. And with what happened to my son. Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

Thursday, December 12, 2024

Meditation 164 ~Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil~

1411 Days Without B III, Day 852 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How many days did I come back burning up? Angry? Humiliated? Sick? Far too many…

And today? Well, your Dad’s no chef. I’m still burning money, paper, and sheets, Braxton.

I hope you weren’t watching that. And what about Virgil? He’s trying to get warm. All by his lonesome. And I’m crying, so I best not go outside lest my tears freeze. It’d be practice.

Do you know which is the coldest Circle in Hell? The Ninth Circle. That’s Treachery. Again, my boy, anytime I’m having a hard time, I remember what I have survived… I lost you, Braxton. It makes everything else pale in comparison. So because the Day Job burned me up, I could go for some tears. But what brought them on. A Dog’s Purpose, B III. Braxton, I’m not reading it… Again, I mean. Or watching.

At least if you were here, I wouldn’t feel as bad about burning daylight. Wasting my time. It’s so much better writing a novel about four individuals trying to set the world on fire. That’s one thing about never getting published. I won’t allow someone to burn my book. I should be so lucky. To earn a paycheck for doing something that I… Love, Braxton.

That’s one more thing that burns me up. My jealousy while watching all these dog channels. And watching these families become rich and famous. I hid you from the world.

However, I take a picture of Virgil every day. He feels the sunshine, sleeps in soft sheets, and stays warm… for now. Yet he wonders why I’m always so cold.

When I’m getting hot over every woman who’s not even close to being your stepmother. When I’m stewing over every mistake. When I know I’m cooked. And I can’t do anything to save myself or Virgil. I told myself at the Day Job that I thought your purpose was to get me into Heaven. If God smiled down on me for anything, it would be because I was your Daddy. Heaven’s Light in comparison to Hellfire. Yet, Virgil’s thriving, somehow.

He has to guide me through the Inferno. But where am I now? In some story awaiting the fire? Melting away on the floor? Sweating over some girl’s picture? Daylight is a wastin’ Braxton. And when the sun rises once more… Braxton, Try WARMING Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad