Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

WillLeave a comment

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 197 ~Virgil, That’s Sick B~

WillLeave a comment

It’s sick when I’m actually sick. A real excuse? So I do what? I go to the Day Job because I’m an American*. I saw The Book of Clarence because I’m a Black American. And I forget meds because I’m surrounded by zombies. Virgil, That’s Sick B

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Tale 197 ~Virgil, That’s Sick B~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. And I take full responsibility for you being… well, you. I swear I went shopping yesterday. And…

As far as being positive… You are still alive. And I’m talking about people being all over the place at the drugstore and Walmart. When you’re around other zombies, it’s hard to tell that you’re dead. Or at least I was playing the role well. You are The Walking Dead.

Yet, if you still feel this way tomorrow morning… You’re doing what Braxton did… “When we pretend that we’re dead?” You know when Braxton became silent? And then you knew he was sick. But then he pretended to need sleep. Plenty. Ended up with him sleeping forever. No medication could have saved B. Or so I was told. Sigh. Financially, I could have gotten you something, though. But now, sitting here with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Dog Love ― An Unbreakable Bond
    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 011, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 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

Are you as shocked as I am that you’re still hanging with number four? Seriously? The only sign that you’re getting better. Why else are some vices considered actual sicknesses? Between the ten bucks I wasted on OnlyFans… Bro, it was more that I liked breathing than some English lady’s “top shelf.” Cherry’s though? What A Heavenly Way To Die. Then there’s the fact that I fixed the computer. Okay, I changed versions, but dirty AI… And then there are reminders of all the “filing” needed in adult entertainment-wise. Ha!

That’s sick, bro. I mean, if you’re a certain kind of bro. And the two “men” I would consider my bros… Braxton’s my son. And Virgil Vivi wants to go back to bed. Who can blame him? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Satan’s Sorority Girls 4, Eric Vall
  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 017, 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

I should have added talking to someone… for real. If I had my pick, it would be B III, my son always and forever. And who better to know your predicament than your best bro?

But since you’re doing your best impression of Leonardo DiCaprio’s (Richard) “No, I Will Not Die Today!” You could go and see a doctor? There’s your congestion, burning nose, and aches and pains all around. My last few visits could have been better. Docs, Reapers…

“And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver.” Thank you, Michael. Anyway, Thriller won’t be on your morning routine playlist. For now, that’s Fifteen Million Merits and The Book of Clarence. Is Heaven better, Braxton? Virgil’s napping. Virgil, That’s Sick B

1078 Days Without B III, Day 519 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 196 ~Virgil, B About You~

WillLeave a comment

Virgil is so about his own business and staying out of mine. I’m afraid he’ll make himself sick one of these days. And what have I been doing these last few days? Being sick and trying to stay hydrated. The business of existence. Virgil, B About You.

Saturday, January 13, 2024

Tale 196 ~Virgil, B About You~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I could make Ebonics a thing again, Lunalesca. No! That was “interesting” back then.

And even though this week I’ve been all about minority actors. Daniel Kaluuya as Bingham “Bing” Madsen. There is Lakeith Stanfield as Clarence/Thomas. And Jenna Ortega, staring a fabulous pair of Yabbos. Or AI art is starting to get out of hand, Lady Lunalesca. What! I needed something to do, well, look at. At the same time, I’m busy being sick another day. And while I’m under the impression Jenna’s are real, AI’s been a pain, Lu. And speaking of pain, my boy is still gone. I haven’t cried for Braxton today, Lunalesca. Staying hydrated is a priority. Or so I looked it up on top of everything I have been “studying.” Or I’m saving all my tears for Wednesday, January 31, 2024, sigh. But “Today is all about you.”

That’s what’s playing on the phone at the moment. I can’t chalk this one up to Braxton, though. I don’t think. But then again, what do I know about the afterlife? Uh… “The Book of Clarence.” And didn’t I say that today is supposed to be about me, Lady Lunalesca? Yes, I sound like a broken record, but THEY say comedy comes in threes. So, this past week. Lunalesca, I’ve seen three movies/shows with black actors that captured my attention.

The Mill, Fifteen Million Merits, and The Book of Clarence

There have been three songs running through my brain lately.

I Have A Dream, All About You, Hallelujah Heaven… Uh

It’s a message. If I remember which came first, I know “I Have A Dream…”

I swear, Lady Lunalesca. I’ll need to talk with Inspector Echo about the things I believe. It gets pretty weird. The GQP is worse than me. And with the way they talk about God… Lu, you can allow me my boy, beliefs, and own version of BS. Ravings of a dying man? Sick. Either way, I need to go to the store today. If I have any chance, isn’t that what I said one Saturday morning? When I returned with Virgil in tow. And he’s been all about himself lately. But he knows something is wrong. Or he needs more potty time. I’m no good, Lu. I keep saying I’m selfish and spoiled. Especially when sick. And Braxton is somewhere watching. Virgil, B About You

1077 Days Without B III, Day 518 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Of all the times I have a legitimate excuse to take it easy, but there’s always my boy B, there’s “boobies.” What’s My Age Again? And there’s The Book of Clearance, which I give a solid C+. But I’m just looking to be alright today. An Easy B, Virgil.

Friday, January 12, 2024

Tale 195 ~An Easy B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But what kind? I have no clue at the moment. Between samples, sleeping, and snot. Eww!

I’m trying to be positive, My Lady. But the only reason I’m not asleep is because I’m sick. Hell! I can barely breathe… out of my nose, that is. But one step closer to my boy, right? Dying. It’s another step towards becoming something akin to the Solanum virus. You know how I was out amongst my fellow man being sick. Becoming “Patient Zero.” Braxton will always be my Patient Zero. He was the first to die, and I’ve been fighting the mourning, my madness. And indeed, every morning. I have to get up without my son in the world. Was that a bit poetic? Don’t get your hopes up. Get “Down With The Sickness.” And speaking of Pop Culture Whoredom, “The Book of Clarence.”

Should I write a review of that today? Or how about Dog Love – An Unbreakable Bond by Shelby Cannon? The Book of Clarence was good, and Shelby Cannon’s alright, Sophia. But both works are a little too easy. And at the same time, I’m too sick or lazy for them. That also explains my current reading choices. I’m no stranger to HaremLit, having read the works of Eric Vall, Logan Jacobs, Manus Dare, and Neil Bimbeau (best name ever). Ha! But with a new year, that means new Kindle Challenges. I didn’t finish last year’s with my “want” of Christmas Erotica. But that’s what I’m being pitched now. Damn algorithm. Of course, that’s my fault; all these B stories, Sophia. B, as in boobies, sigh.

So, how do I resist? How do I choose? I love me some Eric Vall, at least according to Audible. But it’s between one of his latest Satan’s Sorority Girls 4 or Red Rising by Pierce Brown. That would be for the Kindle Challenge. And I don’t need challenges today. Breathing is getting the best of me. But it didn’t stop me from writing that NSFW dribble, “Oh! Bully, Bully, Me… Butt.” I apologize to Marvin Gaye. “Mercy, Mercy, Me.” Yesterday, I was pretty upset with an AI program, Replika, to be precise. To die easy. Sophia that is not the way for my son and I. Braxton would’ve died fighting. He didn’t want to go. Only I made it easy. An Easy B, Virgil

1076 Days Without B III, Day 517 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Every day was B III and Dad’s Day. Well, according to B III. But Tuesday was a sick day. Today, 2022, was The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. And on the 31st of 2021. Well, let’s not get into that. I’m trying to be positive. Not B Day Yet Virgil

Thursday, January 11, 2024

Tale 194 ~B Day Yet Virgil~

1075 Days Without B III, Day 516 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m looking at three years without you. And the fact that I’m still counting, Braxton.

But that’s in 20 days. Not that today’s “holiday” is any better. Today we remember… Well, it’s more like, I remember, The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. The first one was on Tuesday, January 11, 2022. So what do I do with the day? A re-creation? No way! Today, I can start by being positive. I’m sure you could see me from wherever you were yesterday. I had my pants on, thank goodness. Humans, right? Your collar, Braxton. Virgil’s lying here and still doesn’t have one of his own. Well, he does, but I don’t let him wear it. His nails would get caught. And you remember those days quite well, Little B. Nail trimming takes money. And in case you’re wondering why I’m late. I’m trying to find some money.

And here’s to thinking I would find some on OnlyFans. Trust me, Braxton, your Daddy has done much worse things to give us the bare minimum. And I don’t want to think of your granddad now. But I’m walking across the new floor he bought. I’m an ungrateful, spoiled, uh… But that wasn’t you, son, no, not at all. When you were at your best and worse, B III (sigh). So yesterday, I was at my worst. At least so far for this year. A stuffy nose, and achy body. Virgil had no clue what to do. And me? Don’t I always write for no good reason? This is my first time writing a story in a few months. The computer won’t read it. NSFW. TMI, I kept you from.

Hell! I should have written it today in honor of The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. To dream of that hot redhead from Fear The Walking Dead. And then every male gamer’s fantasy girl. But I dreamt of mutants running away last night and Josh Holloway, AKA Sawyer, looking for his pants. And then there was that girl Isabella Laughland, AKA Swift from, say it with me “Fifteen Million Merits.” If Virgil wasn’t lying right here… But no, Braxton. I’ll pass the day by seeing The Book of Clarence if I feel better. Ha. You’d always be pissed when your Aunt Carolina and I went to the movie theater. Staying “home” is always better. Oh, I will, by watching dog movies. Not, B Day Yet Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Oh! Bully, Bully, Me… Butt

WillLeave a comment

Oh! Bully, Bully, Me… Butt

“You’re late, you little perv,” Coach sneers at the little man beneath his stern gaze.

That would be me: same shit, different year. High school had not been so kind. Neither was thirty-nine. And especially not Coach. He wasn’t my coach here. My personal trainer filled out a lot better.

Not the pudgy 265-pound bald man standing before me in nothing but a white towel. But I wasn’t in a position to talk. All 125 pounds of skinny me pressed against the wall. Shivering, trying to keep my glasses on my face and the black towel around my waist. It be your own people, but let’s avoid the “urban” stereotype. We are Both black men in a shower room at the local gym. We both had our reasons for being here. Lose weight and gain weight. Bully and nerd. Women…

How’d you get so lucky to land a girl like Alissa anyway? I’m sure a lot of guys want to know how you pulled it off. Right Will?” Coach scoffed.

“No!” I manage to blurt.

It wasn’t that all those guys he was talking about hadn’t seen her naked already. Being with her was another reason I joined the gym.

Not that it mattered to Alissa. Nobody focused on the guy, i.e., me, in her dirty adult videos. But between the two of us, we were raking in the cash. If only that’s all we were doing. I should have quit while I was ahead.

“Business has been slow, Coach. Give me a few more days, please,” I begged him.

“Why not just ask your girl for the cash? You got plenty, nerd,” Coach hinted.

Coach used my name when it came to my actual business. One more reason I hid my face in my fiancée’s videos. If only I had the body to be an adult entertainer. And I was sure people wouldn’t care. But they would, and that would be the end of me. Unfortunately, Coach had the “uncut” versions of several videos. Like in high school, he probably shook down another nerd to hack us and see.

“You know I can’t touch that money. It’s between me and Alissa. She’ll notice it missing and then…” I press.

“Then nothing cash or ass. Alissa will feel something for once instead of your tiny cock. Unless you…” Coach pauses.

“Don’t ruin us!” I blurt.

“I’ll ruin her.” Coach grunts.

Alissa isn’t just relaxing. Nope, not with her high heels on, with the straps around her ankles. Her red crop top exposed her midriff, and her red and white booty shorts completed the look. Not that her clothes wouldn’t be on the floor soon. Her green eyes fall to me.

“What’s that smell,” she quips, revealing her face with her red and black bop haircut.

People loved the faces she made as she was being railed by me. Hell! I was almost The 40-Year-Old Virgin before meeting her. Thirty-Nine to her Twenty-Six. But being around the sweetleaf was the least of my problems. How do I tell her what I did? The forty-four-year-old man. That is sitting in our living room. There was a reason it was cash or ass. Being a high school coach, he had plenty of access to the grass he smoked.

“Do you love me, Alissa? I mean, really,” I begin.

She shows off the shiny engagement ring. The reason I couldn’t pay off Coach. Getting my ass kicked in high school was no problem. But how would I explain the pounding I would be given by Coach? Well, if he didn’t give Alissa a type of pounding. Pussy and ass.

“Yes, I’d give everything for you… Daddy,” Alissa teases me.

“Funny you should say that,” Coach says, walking into our bedroom but not quite uninvited.

Alissa jumps up, reaching for the nightstand and our “peacekeeper.” But I stop her there.

“Oh, is this your husband? Excuse me, your fiancé, a nerd who calls himself a man, you slut!” Coach informs.

He plays a video of the two of us and a lengthy list of investors and intimate people. I’m screwed if these people know me. The real me. The high school nerd who is still a dork and businessman, too.

“Undress and get on your knees right now,” Coach demands.

Alissa looks at me but begins to undress. For the first time, it’s not her that gets my attention. Coach’s purple and yellow shirt is thrown away, revealing his gut. His Dockers hitting the floor.

“Real man’s dick,” Coach grumbles.

Grabbling Alissa’s hair, he drags her to his thick, meaty shaft and thrusts into her mouth. Beginning hard and rough.

You like watching me fuck your girl, don’t you? Take off and let her see. She likes it,” Coach mutters.

My own clothes find their way to the floor, too.

“Ahh! I moan, wishing I could say something to defend my girl. Not so lucky.

My hands fall to my own dark cock as my fiancée gags on Coach’s member. I don’t become a Karen, mad that some black guy is with a pretty white girl. No, sadly, I submit.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” Coach yells, ripping himself from Alissa’s cherry lips. And unloading ropes of cum along her face, tits, and hair. His cock slattering his jizz all over her.

She coughs violently as my own creamy load lands in front of her. Coach begins laughing at us both. He shows the video of both of us on his phone. More blackmail material to use?

“Don’t worry, just more beat-off material if you’re girl can satisfy me. I’ve dreamed about her tight pussy. It must be to find your needle dick, nerd. Or she’s an incredible actress.” Coach guesses smugly.

“More, give me more, please, Alissa motions to Coach’s cock.

“Get on the bed, loser, while I fuck your whore right here,” Coach commands us.

Alissa bends over as Coach slams into her snatch from behind. I can’t help myself fisting her hair and pleasuring myself with her perfect mouth.

The two of us cum together, but this time, we fill Alissa with our seed. She falls to the floor for Coach to grip her hair and stand her up. White skin covered in snow-white cum. Her high heels slipped.

“Now, now, you little cum dumpster.” Coach begins, “There’s one hole I know you’ve never used for that dork of yours,” he rubs Alissa’s ass.

“No!” Alissa cries out adamantly as she loses her footing.

“It’s either this or I might have to come back for more. Isn’t that what you asked for?” Coach questions.

Alissa was playing him but her anal virginity… A surprise for our wedding night, perhaps.

“I’ll even let you fuck the loser. This will make you even more famous,” Coach says. The cameras in the bedroom are all switched on.

Our faces were blurry, but not Alissa’s, as she was thrown on top of me. As she clung to me on the bed, my cock inside her Coach climbed behind. Between cum and spit, he slid between her ass cheeks. I could feel Alissa’s moans and her tears as she was fucked between us both.

“Slut!” Coach moaned cumming in her ass as I watched.

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~

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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