Author: 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 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

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Christmas Eve, and I still believe… in Santa? Nope! But I’ll watch the NORAD Santa Tracker. It was a tradition for Braxton and I. We weren’t big on the whole Jesus thing. But we had each other. And now I’m anything but a wise man “BelieVe With B, V.”

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Tale 176 ~BelieVe With B, V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. After yesterday’s debacle… can’t wait until Monday. Anyway, today, I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.

Or the little drummer boy… What about a wise man? Considering Braxton was your savior, why not be the father? Joseph, not God. No Mary?

Anyway, here you are on Christmas Eve. I wish I could say that while I looked up music yesterday, it was all about Christmas. No worries. While I wasn’t in the best state of mind, you have a Christmas playlist ready to go. Ma’s Traditions, you know. Listening to Christmas music all day. I can’t say I’ve seen anything with holiday cheer. Well, short of Mary Cherry’s reaction to The Muppets Christmas Carol. Oh, what about tonight and Christmas? Music, TV, to drown out the fans… uh, it’s hard being the shepherd. Happy thoughts or like doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING “His Christmas Harem,” “Snow Help Me”
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Of course, you’ll keep reading Christmas stories… of a particular variety. You know, the kind that you can’t speak out loud to Virgil. But at the very least, you were on the couch with V. A wise man must study. But I doubt most did it from bed. No, they were far too busy following the stars in the sky. And you’re looking to the stars on the internet. Right? Speaking of which. As The Killers sang, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Christmas music, remember? Hell! When you finally decide to “c’mon get happy,” you will be old enough to be a wise man. Three old men showing up with stuff to some young girl who’s a virgin… Uh yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined Sometime This Week
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Keep trying to be the shepherd. It’s like your happy, no, good, nah, soft thoughts. Christmas thoughts. Those gentle memories keep getting picked off by wolves at every opportunity. And again, it’s Christmas Eve. You should be better than this. And what exactly does that mean here at thirty-nine? Christmas Eve morning started with tears. There’d be no need to if you didn’t believe. Maybe not in Santa, but always and forever in Little Braxton. If Santa is still around, so is your son. That’s your job. He’s your gift. You can believe this day won’t be as horrible, and Virgil will become courageous. Yeah, he’s in Braxton’s room now. Will you shepherd him, your thoughts, anything good on this Christmas? BelieVe With B, V

1057 Days Without B III, Day 498 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 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

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With every step, I get closer to joining B III. And I won’t even blame him. You know who I want to blame. But doesn’t that make me a selfish, spoiled son at thirty-nine? Yet Virgil wants to join me and Braxton’s boys club. Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

1054 Days Without B III, Day 495 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were the only one I cut the BS with. Give or take your timeouts.

But I’m in no mood to even watch the sexy girls now. As the song goes, “I need you now! Do you think you can cope? You figured me out that I’m lost, and I’m hopeless.” Yes, B, it’s been a “Mad Season.” And it didn’t have to be. I could have followed you, Braxton. That’s how it always was. I had a realization about it today while being humiliated at PetSmart. Virgil Vivi has to eat. And while I’ve been fighting the urge to be with you for 1054 days. 495 of them have been keeping Virgil from following you into a box, B. Anyway, speaking of following, I hate that center aisle at Petsmart. It reminds me of your last day. Walking out…

I was a “freaking” zombie dude. You were dead, and I was “The Walking Dead.” Existence without you, Braxton… So, I figure it’s walking up that aisle that scares me. Isn’t my heart broken? It beats furiously when I’m walking up. I breathe, Braxton. Why? Because again, with the music… “You took it all, but I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!”

Braxton, it didn’t feel that way this morning. I’ve said my mornings have turned from, my son is dead, to Why is daddy still alive? Myself, your granddaddy? I had to sneak into the house, your home, mind you. So I could clean up after Virgil. Your granddad was here. Or he would be soon, and of course, coward that I am, I ran, Braxton.

Do you remember when he was here around your last year or so? All I could think was, I had to save you. And I came in, and you jumped into my arms. We stood together. I’m crying now thinking about that. Careful! I can’t get the floor wet with tears. They’re still repairing it from the last “flood.” That’s what has been the central issue these past few days.

That was me leaving Virgil here. Braxton, we were meant to fall together. Virgil though?

How do I give him a life when I don’t want my own? It’s not fair. But he tries anyway. Saturday, August 13, 2022, I heard you asking. Let him join our family, but Braxton…

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

No… Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

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There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

WillLeave a comment

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 169 ~B Embarrassing Me V~

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The two most embarrassing moments of my existence happened inside hospital rooms. My birth and my son’s death. I failed both of us. And since I’m still here… Well, Humiliations Galore. But not from my son or my roommate B Embarrassing Me V.

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Tale 169 ~B Embarrassing Me V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And in case I haven’t told you enough, I… I hate you. Way to start the morning

A bit of advice. It ain’t like that. Excuse me; it isn’t like that. “That Ain’t Right! It ain’t right. It isn’t right. That s… is wrong! It’s dead wrong!” Channeling my inner Chris Rock. Do you remember The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident? I don’t think it was the sickness and the pain that got to me so much. Hell! I prayed to join B III at The Rainbow Bridge or wherever “Some Nights.” Anyway, it was having to look at myself, having to look at you, that had me rushing to a doctor. Now, that was embarrassing, right? Speaking of embarrassing doctor’s visits. Me having to lie about my health. “Is It A Crime?” What about accepting Braxton’s death? Or failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING On the Boss’s Naughty List (Erotica?)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is it embarrassing that you’ve lost the mission so quickly? Or that you have added at least six pop culture references before getting out of bed. Well, other than to face me. To see yourself today. And what did you see? For the most part, it’s Monday. But no one can hurt you. Sunday, Hell every day! You can take solace in this. You will do the most damage by being the monster you are. The people tomorrow… I mean, “Every Day Will Be Like A Holiday” by comparison. I am “My Own Worst Enemy.” You’re learning that quickly this morning. It’s not a “Sunday In The Sky,” not for you anyway. Braxton’s lucky. What about Virgil Vivi? It’s embarrassing that you’re late taking him out. Another Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING His Christmas Harem: The Complete Series
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Okay, what about the six things that are embarrassing me right now? Count them, Will!

  1. My son is still dead, and Virgil deserves better
  2. They’re fixing the floor tomorrow, and you have no money. Your Old Man’s checking.
  3. You’ve got plenty of secrets: weapons, clothes, toys. And Virgil can’t hold his bladder.
  4. The last time the house was cleaned was for Braxton’s Aunt Carolina. Cleaning now?
  5. The Day Job sucks
  6. I offended my Ma by asking her age yesterday…

He looks at me. And I look at him. Then he looks at me, and I look at him… Humiliations Galore. Except for that single day, the Old Man visited. Braxton jumped into my arms. Hero? B Embarrassing Me V

1050 Days Without B III, Day 491 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

WillLeave a comment

“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