Wake Up! Yes, I hate bright lights. Yes, I would rather bask in the darkness than see in the light of day I’ve wasted 39 years. Yes, people are horrible. But try waking up every morning to… Sigh… “Humiliations Galore.” Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated
Wednesday, June 5, 2024
Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~
Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Losing Braxton, waking up before and after losing Braxton. There’s also taking off my pants, peeking at Yabbos.
The usual morning. However, I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, which is a blessing.
Yesterday, I got caught up in a motivational speech. It said something to the tune of 90% of success in life… or was it 80%? Anyway, 90% is just showing up. And the other 10% to 20% is, what for. Now say it with me, Inspector Echo. AHEM, Humiliations Galore!
Inspector, I wondered as I waited for Virgil to do his business this morning. He’s been going in the house, so why bother sitting here for twenty minutes? Am I trying to teach him at all? He looks at me as though he expects something. Hopefully, it’s not what I did to Braxton on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Uh, Euthanasia?
You’ll have to forgive me, Inspector. Between reading another fur buddy book, “The Survival Guide to Pet Loss.” And now having another E for “E-Day.” Euthanasia, in addition to Emergence, Existence, and Extinction. I don’t want to be FORTY, Inspector.
And I won’t be for a while yet… if ever. But it’s approaching. And that is what brings me to you today. As I’ve been saying for a few days. I’m not complaining. But I’m not as horrible as Tucker Carlson when just asking questions. Echo, I’m observing and explaining.
Every morning, I wake up saying I’m a sinner. But that’s not because of a religious doctrine, my friend. I say it because I know the “man” that I am. It ain’t a good one.
Braxton and Virgil, though… my boys. Why should they share my fear, failure, and fire?
Braxton was humiliated when my Old Man kicked him four feet high into a door. And then, when he ran to me. His tail was between his legs. And yet he turned and barked defiantly as I held a knife between us and my approaching Old Man. My son B III was/is a brave boy and the best “man” I’ve known. Even to the end, when he was dying, he was humiliated he couldn’t stay.
Virgil might not want to. His humiliation lies in the fact he can’t figure me out. I don’t know how to love him. That’s the both of us. But when I wake up, Inspector, I know. Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated
1221 Days Without B III, Day 662 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will