Category: Inspector Echo

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

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I meant to explain what E-Day is? Hell! I can’t explain why I get out of bed in the morning. I’d like to say for fifteen years, it was because Braxton needed me to. Or my Olds said so. There’s Virgil. He’s still alive, I exist. E-Day Fools Virgil, B.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have to EVOLVE. Republicans haven’t. And you know what B stands for…

Emergence? Wait, that doesn’t start with a B. But instead of talking about Braxton’s death. Let me be a selfish “person” since it’s my day. Well, counting today, it will be in T-minus 9 days. Then again, I’m time-traveling. And I’ve already screwed up with my critic on being clear, concise, and making my case. The comedian is dead. I should be, but here goes…

What is E-Day? Again, let us begin with Emergence and why I won’t vote Republican. With women, I’m Pro-Choice. Let women do whatever they want. But with my Ma… sigh. Come E-Day, she should have done some thinking. And that’s an insult, I know, Inspector. Both me and my younger sister were C-sections. She wanted us here alive and well.

Existence for me, though… If I had my way… I would not recommend it. Like ever. I try my hardest not to say words like life or live. That is not what this is, Inspector. Questions such as What is my favorite movie, set of mammaries, type of music, etc., Echo. I couldn’t tell you any of it. But right above that line, “Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'” from The Band Perry. There’s “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal” from Marina and The Diamonds, Teen Idle. And God, I know Inspector, turning thirty-nine. And what have I done? Or rather, why have I done nothing but exist, Inspector? My greatest accomplishment was my son Braxton. I thought I was being selfish today. Right?

Extinction though? Erasure, euthanasia… Hell! Evil! My boy should be here. And how dare I even think that he was the lucky one. I don’t disrespect my Ma, Little B, and how about myself. Uh. I disrespect myself all the time. But I don’t get off light Echo, not ever. I’m not a man of faith, but as the song goes, “Everybody wanna go to heaven. But nobody wants to die.” I want to Inspector. But this is Hell, and I am right where I belong. Only I cry out, “What’s my crime!” Which is worse? I was around seven or eight, asking, “What the Hell is going on?” Or killing my best friend at thirty-six?” Doesn’t matter; I’m still breathing. E-Day Fools Virgil, B

941 Days Without B III, Day 382 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

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So much red ink in school. Gray hairs in my beard… I’m too old to have my Olds signing checks for me. The most official thing I’ve signed is for the death of my firstborn son. And his little tan hairs are replaced with white ones. B’s DIE Job Virgil

Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’d say anything or do anything… Other than saying my boy’s dead or killing him…

Again? But as I approach thirty-nine, that’s the only thing I can hold as an accomplishment —the stuff on “my” Bucket List. I want to be in love. And I want to know what It’s like to kill… thank you, Eli Roth. Am I better off than The 40-Year-Old Virgin… There have been girls. A lot… Why aren’t I a billionaire already? And have I paid for sex? Do I need a priest? Uh, we’ll get to that Inspector. But on the subject of death. The only one that’s come close to my wrath looks at me in the mirror every morning. Why are we talking about this this morning? Afternoon, considering time travel. Today is Thursday, August 17, 2023. But on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Braxton’s Fire and Blood.

Must I be so dramatic? And as if I could be like George R. R. Martin. Aren’t I a writer? Inspector, this whole damn month, I’ve felt like “Comic Book Guy” on The Simpsons. Oh!

How many days have I spent writing, and for what? It’s not fear, Inspector… Laziness. This is one more reason I’m not a doctor. Well, a scientist. Suppose you asked me for specifics besides me being STUPID. Inspector, I’ve looked into Virology. Zombie Virus? Solanum? Maybe I do need a priest. But I would never become one. Once upon a time, someone said I would become a preacher. I only had a use for God with two things, you know. To save my son. And for sex… How’s the brothel?

I’m not ashamed of saying I wanted to be Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner, Larry Flynt. A particular photographer. Or The Most Talented Man In The World, Johnny Sins. My God! Inspector, what am I going to do? I still have a few weeks if I’m lucky. Will my Olds call? I wouldn’t blame them at all. My entire 30s have been one freaking disappointment, Echo. Hell! This existence. What am I, Inspector? The only comfort Braxton had was my love. And that only gets you so far. Again, look to my Olds. A son with a part-time Day Job who writes. All their checks vs. my words. One last job? Ruin me and Braxton’s existences. Virgil’s here, white hairs replacing brown/beige/tan. B’s DIE Job Virgil

934 Days Without B III, Day 375 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

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What big ears you have. Is the hole in the fence bigger? Is the phone loud enough.? Then there’s Virgil, who never makes a sound unless I walk out the door. How long do the neighbors have to listen to him? If I will. “Virgil, We’ll Be Listening”

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I haven’t been complaining about my ears, the fence, Virgil vomiting on the phone… Uh?

Hell! I should be ashamed that it took him “almost” doing that to get my attention to do something. And after a few days, how is life for him now? If anything, the fact that he’s alive after one year here. Gotcha Day wasn’t big, ha. He had a bath and brush. A new bed? No! If I’m going to spend money… It’s going towards putting my firstborn, my Braxton, in a box. And what about the new one I’m supposed to be buying? If I had money… And that would take getting out of bed. Or how about, I don’t know. Trying to be happy. Is that from B? I wasn’t happy when he was here, but I was better. And then his silence.

What I wouldn’t give for a bout of silence. If anything, shouldn’t this be the most humiliating thing in existence? The fact that I still talk to myself. Imaginary friends. Pretending? At least with Braxton, I could pretend. But even saying V’s name these days. And that’s if I’m not busy moaning… It’s more like I let the girls I watch moan in one way or another. But I’m trying, Inspector. Every day, it gets a little bit “harder.” Really! Considering I’m time traveling now, Monday, August 14, 2023. It’s been 17 days for now. That’s all the bellyaching. Or rather, belly scraping, you’ll hear from me. Not even edging. But there is plenty to be upset about since we’re talking now. The Day Job?

Can I listen to the instructions at work? Don’t be STUPID. I’m not a visual guy there. But all about the visual lady’s Yabbos, but she’s gone. At least she told me she was leaving for a time. God knows I wish I could leave forever. Take from that what you will, Echo, I know. And speaking of which, the things I’ve been saying or, more to the fact, what I’ve been writing about. Will you please understand, Inspector? My mind is about three things. There’s my boys —namely Braxton. There’s making bucks. And, of course, anything to do with making babies. Oh! These three things are like a mixed drink that “messes” me up. 99 Problems. Virgil, me, B’s ghost. Virgil, We’ll Be Listening

927 Days Without B III, Day 368 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

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I’m getting too old for this shit. To be living off my Olds. The kids will be on my lawn as the fence falls. When was the last time I got laid? I can’t afford to be a sugar daddy. Fur kids and Depression. But how can that be? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

Wednesday, August 9, 2023

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And other lies I don’t want to hear. Hell! The truth, too. Be positive, happy, thirty-eight.

Because thirty-nine is fast approaching. And what am I going to do with that? I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but does Ron DeSantis have a point about Shakespeare? I’m thinking Romeo + Juliet, to be honest. There’s Thirteen Reasons Why’s “Hannah Baker” and Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas. Three teens and a grown-ass man. What did they do? Love? Getting screwed over, literally. Must I be so vulgar? And the world’s coming down. The last few mornings, I have awoken with more tears than usual, Inspector. The thought? Can I say it already? Well, according to my critic, I can’t. EVER! I’m learning to hate reading and writing again. What I read makes me cry, and what I write makes other people. I suck!

And don’t I sound like some teenager? Braxton was fifteen, which is all grown up. Inspector that’s going by fur buddy standards. I doubt I have such resolve to stay. Inspector. Braxton fought tooth and nail to stay. Why can’t I do the same? Exhaustion… The fence is ready to give way any second. How old is it? I think I was thirty-two when Braxton and I moved here… No! I’m sorry. We were placed. Living with my Olds. Sad. While I’m speaking like an old white guy, Mr. Trump. Problems of the past are rushing into the future. To see black people fight against that tide. Montgomery Riverfront Brawl. Meanwhile, I’ve been at my Day Job for how long? If not my Dad. Braxton…

The Day Job would be another good reason not to get up again. Echo, it’s incredible that I can do that with this mattress. Yet where am I right now? Why don’t I leave today? Looking at the clock, it’s past eight, meaning Virgil needs to go outside. The fence? Inspector, I was about to say these glasses are old, but these are only from a year ago. The old ones? Yeah, the ones I had when I would look upon my son. What must I look like now to him? I’m older but no wiser. Because again, something from last year, uh, that’s V. His Gotcha Day is Sunday. So, Petsmart on Saturday? Maybe? The shame, like Braxton dying, remember? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

920 Days Without B III, Day 361 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

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“I want a new drug.” Not anesthetizing like the Day Job. That’s if I’m not sweating bullets with my anxiety. And there’s bloody zombie movies. Turning “mountains” into snow-covered peaks… Eww! Or crying my eyes out over B. To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Tale 032 ~To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But the last “drinks” I bought were for Braxton’s Aunt. She knows I’m a lightweight drinker.

Plus, despite everything, I’ll wallow in my grief and depression; thanks, Inspector. I end up crying five out of seven days anyway for various reasons. Braxton, for the most part. I am still considering again; I am time traveling. Today is Monday, July 24, 2023, so I talked to Madam J. And “Dear Future Wife” earlier. Talk about Chronomentrophobia. More like Chronophobia. I don’t even remember who I was talking to about that (sigh). Anyway, we’ll get to that. All I know is, at the moment, I want to drink until I pass out. Braxton is as good of an excuse as any. What if V fell down the stairs where he now sits? With me as a “friend,” he could use a drink, right?

But know this. Dear Inspector, the only one who needs or deserves any “pain” in their existence is me. And yes, I know, I’ve been quoting this Taylor Swift line plenty. “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” The last thing I need to do is start drinking. If I want to throw up, I’ll go to Pizza Hut. Inspector, I’m surprised I can even get anything into my mouth. The way I’ve been spittin’ these days. Hell! I should say spitting, considering how pathetic I’ve been. The Critic? They’ve been quiet. Again, I’m time traveling, so by the time they read this… Inspector, I will be in no mood to care, considering I’ll be sweating bullets. Dangerous… Let’s focus on work and my overwhelming anxiety. Effing Day Job.

I want to cry every time I bother to look at the clock. I swear, next to the Man In The Mirror. There are those red numbers on the clock. I jump whenever I hear the phone go off. If it’s not a Facebook hacker, then it’s some alarm I’ve set to keep me moving. Being productive? The mirror, phone, the Day Job, uh Virgil. Why am I being a meanie, Echo? It’s like things that make me burst into tears for 500. Blood, sweat, and tears? What else, let me see… Better yet, NOOOO! NO! Because some girl is going to make the list. Then… Chances are I’ve broken, but again, who knows? Is alcohol a better vice? You think? To Braxton, Virgil, Cheers

913 Days Without B III, Day 354 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 025 ~Virgil Floors It Braxton~

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I’m not going up to the top floor. Hell! I’m lucky any day I stay above ground. Uh, lucky? “All These Things That I’ve Done” I deserve the ending to Drag Me To Hell. If the floor keeps going as it is or V vomits again… “Virgil Floors It Braxton”

Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Tale 025 ~Virgil Floors It Braxton~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I doubt that comes from recycling. I can also afford a maid. Uh, Special K…

Have I ever told you the story about trying to sleep with her? I couldn’t let her stick to cleaning. Oh no, not me! Mr. Wanna be Christian Grey. Hell! I’m also still pulling that stuff when it comes to M-Anime. It’s always pedal to the metal Inspector Echo. Speaking of being in a rush… Nice Guys Finish Last; I know, Inspector. Women here? Nope, I was returning from the store only to discover 2V losing his damn mind. I mean, I was talking about drinking to one of the girls, and here’s V vomiting all over. Eww! Could you not ask me what brought it on? Then again. Even to this very day. I don’t know why Braxton got sick when he did. And I was slow to help…

And by the time I did… Do I need to begin the morning with tears? Well, another crying session, since I was when I woke up on time again sigh. Two hours I wasted, Inspector, on? I swear I would never leave the bed if I had my way. Not ever again. Yet, somehow, I’m trying to make it a habit not to keep the laptop near the bed. Inspector, incentivizing comfy spots. When it comes to being comfortable… 27×27. Remember that Inspector, would you, please? The size of B’s pillow. I swear I want to be mad at Virgil Vivi. I destroyed one trying to wash it when he crapped. Now, he’s thrown up on another. And didn’t I mention I have no money? The floor beside the AC…

The moment I step out of bed, Inspector… Nothing good ever happens with a step. Inspector, how can it come as any surprise that Virgil doesn’t want to walk around? Braxton said it easy enough. Not one more step. And he died in his bed. A way to go, B. I’m sick of running away, Inspector. I’m scared all the damn time. Sleeping, dying, uh… You know what I want to say. I told M Anime I’m a man but to be some Onlyfans girl. Hell! Johnny Sins, Isiah Maxwell, Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner etc. Men living in bed, hmm. Or if I could say, this far no further and sit here and write. I EXIST with the breaks off. Crashing. Virgil Floors It Braxton

906 Days Without B III, Day 347 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

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Charlie Brown had it right with “Good Grief.” Though I’m more of a Samuel L. Jackson, Ving Rhames guy. AHEM “Mother effer!” (Don’t I wish). But no, I wake up to fear and grief and go through the day wishing I could say, “Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil.”

Wednesday, July 19, 2023

Tale 018 ~Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “Money can’t buy me love.” Or happiness… courage… my best friend…

What about a damn dictionary so I know what all these big, scary words mean? Will you allow me to be down on myself today, Echo? Hell! I’ve been asking that since 6 AM. I want to go back to sleep, but there’s ANXIETY, some “Adrenaline” and asshole hackers. If I want to “remember what fear tastes like” (thank you, Freddy). I need only think of when I sat there thinking and then knowing that my son B III would die Echo. There’s waking up in the morning and getting emails that someone tried to get into my account. Which hasn’t been challenged forever. Will it happen again? Am I a fool? Inspector, I feel STUPID, waking up each morning to fear anything and everything.

What about I read a damn thesaurus while I wait for the fear to subside? It never does Inspector, ever. Now, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. When B was here, protected, loved. Thou Art Courageous. I swear, Inspector, the things I did. How brave I became, always. Another lie. Because as soon as Braxton died and to this very day… Courage, where. Fear is not synonymous with grief. Though you could have fooled me with how I was crying this morning from damn near everything. I’m not even sure I’m done, Inspector. Braxton’s lessons were meant to teach me how to overcome my fears, Inspector. I tried. Virgil’s lessons are meant to teach me how to move through my grief. A trade-off?

What about my damn book! I could spend plenty of time trying to get it banned like any effing Republican. And I wouldn’t even have to read it. It’s the writing that’s a bitch, ha. As if I need to put any more secrets out into the world, with fucking hackers all over the place. You never realize how vulnerable you are. That’s why I forget with all my sleep. Inspector, I hide in fur with both Braxton and Virgil. Which reminds me. Virgil needs a bath with all that white fur of his. Not that he likes me hugging him anyway, that’s for sure. But I waste time fucking around all day from not fixing the air filter. Good Grief. Braxton, Good Grief, Virgil

899 Days Without B III, Day 340 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

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Negative? Have you taken a look outside the window? Or turn on the TV, computer, or phone. I swear screens are everywhere. That’s why I’m making more room for audiobooks. But with all these pics of my boys. I should be happy? Happiness’s A B, Virgil.

Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Tale 011 ~Happiness’s A B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But is that happiness? I should start my day with the truth, Inspector though it hurts.

My son is dead. God, a lie is so much simpler. I am a billionaire, ha-ha. Or I am dead already. Inspector, how about I am happy? Again, simplicity. I haven’t got that remark out of my head from a couple of days ago about being negative. But happiness? I feel a bit sick. Inspector, that could be the energy shot I took. Please! I do that at the Day Job every day, don’t I. Does having the Day Job make me happy? Ill Will. Infected, Insane, Incredulous of “Life Itself.” Do you remember that movie? Of all the things that come up, dear Echo, you know, like when I do those meditations. Or when I listened to motivations. And that one moment in school.

Happiness is not a thing I find. Do you find it or make it at all, Inspector? It’s 7:05 AM. And here I am, sitting in the center of the bed, trying to write it out. It’s hard, dammit. I got to stop doing “that.” Once again, I’m censoring myself because of some no-name troll. There is nothing I can say that wouldn’t be thought of as a negative Inspector. Existence. While I was lying here and thinking about what I wanted, um… Movement, Space, Time. I saw this meme before. And I don’t have TIME to find it. But it said something like this. “You told me to be happy.” What was it, you ask? It was a coffin in a graveyard. Oh yeah.

Okay, I can’t talk about my son. I’m trying. Yes, really, not to speak about “relations.” And people suck. What would be acceptable to everyone else? Negativity is not allowed! Inspector, I want to move something other than my fingers every day. And that’s the bare minimum. I want to walk with Virgil without fear of him running away. Sigh. There are several things I want to move on from. (Cough) Braxton. Grief, rage, bedrooms… Inspector, I don’t want to worry about that space between me and my pants. Always. E, I want to stop feeling whatever when V takes up the center of the bed wanting to be close. I want to quit wasting time and find or make happiness… Happiness’s A B, Virgil

892 Days Without B III, Day 333 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 004 ~Letters B To V~

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How long will getting B’s name etched on my arm take? B R A… I wish I could say I’ve been busy. Sleeping or organizing… and no, I don’t mean Braxton’s pictures. And what about V? I can’t tell him anything. But these words (sigh). Letters B To V.

Wednesday, July 05, 2023

Tale 004 ~Letters B To V~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I couldn’t spell Billionaire without help. And Tale? Monday, June 26, 2023… For now…

That’s when I began speaking to you right this second. By the time you read this, I hope I’m still calling these conversations Tales. I won’t finish today because… Mathematics. Ask me how long it took me to do the math on what day it was today. “I feel STUPID!” I’ve been getting that a lot these days. And yet I read every day. I’ve told you before. I’m still not any wiser. Hell! I wonder what I’m reading now. A damn Kindle Challenge, ha? I need to try reading about the money that’s in the bank. Oh! WWE Money in the Bank, Echo. How do I believe those stories? Or how bullies get what they deserve in the end. So excited I hit Braxton…

Have I told you about that E? I was watching YouTube and swinging around everywhere. One more thing to apologize to Braxton for. And what about Virgil? Where’s V anyway? I forgot how to be a Dad. But what I’m ashamed of the most… at least today. Uh, the porn? You know that’s my thing Echo. If only I got paid for it… But no. It’s been all about burning cash or trying not to. Then again, I am time-traveling. Emails, bitcoin, the future? Anyway, I was trying to do something… and as I was telling Braxton this afternoon. Uh, there’s freedom, being free, and that is something these people never said. My ignorance. Sometimes it surprises even me. Listening with the wrong head… Always

And the right one? It’s telling me to get out of bed and get a life instead of this existence.

I’m right back here. It’s as if I haven’t moved a muscle. Coming back to you, it’s now Tuesday, July 4, 2023. Happy Independence Day! What is one holiday I celebrate? Is there even one? I cry or seek comfort; once upon a time, there was one where I conned people. Can I call it that? Like calling it Emergence, Existence, or Extinction Day? You can guess which one of those I want. To be a Dad, get a life, or like the song “Make Me Wanna Die,” hmm. That’s nothing I can tell my boys, my “friends.” But the words. Letters B To V

885 Days Without B III, Day 326 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

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A way to be? There is another way to look at that. Why do you think I’m so drawn to the dead in the first place? Retail? An existence full of last words? Lying on your back to make a living… That’s not a dig. But I am digging for Ways To B, Virgil.

Wednesday, June 28, 2023

Saga 362 ~Ways To B, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I envy my dead kid. If he came back, he’d bite my ass for that.

Only this morning, I woke up to Castle Walls. I mean the song from T.I. and Christina Aguilera. I can’t call this place a castle, A roof over my head that I can’t afford, Inspector. Speaking of which, the warped floor. Hell! One more thing to add to the list. Even when I’m not making mine, the world says to take a breather. Well, no. But there are more lists. There was going to work yesterday. And seeing they reinstituted the headphones/earbuds ruling. All I heard was, how much worse can this place get, Echo? There’s all the stuff I had to do yesterday… again, no. Inspector, stupidity is spreading. Or is that my data? Since Spotify took it upon itself. Making me a playlist

“Lonely Sad Mix.” Hell! Braxton ain’t here. But again, he’s sending songs, Inspector. Not these. And Virgil has his furry problems… “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” Inspector. Perhaps if Virgil wasn’t here… And that’s the thing. Even though he’s alive and well… Not that I can say much. Braxton was/is my son, and I was ready to leave him for the Great Beyond. How about the Great Perhaps? It’s not helping that I’m reading about Alaska Young’s suicide or not. Yes, I have to finish the book, “Looking for Alaska.” I have three more days. And another Kindle Challenge list. If I had my way, it’d be back to reading about dead fur babies, the dead, sex…

An effed-up list of words Inspector. But you know the words I want to say. Only if I string the words together… Cops at the door. The door I don’t own. They’re here because… There is always the death of my son. The punishment I deserve. I’m still breathing…. Inspector, it can be for one of the many crimes I’ve done. Hacking, Perverting, Threatening. Only myself with that last one. I WANT TO JOIN MY LITTLE BOY. Because I don’t know how else to say it. I want to sleep for a “Long, Long, Time.” As Todd would put it, Echo AHEM, No Homo. Please, I’m too busy looking at yaboos. But horny’s not how I want to be. Inspector, Rageful, Depressed, Fearful… or um dead. Ways To B, Virgil

878 Days Without B III, Day 319 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will