Saga 220 ~Don’t Worry Your Life Away~

“Why should I worry? Why should I care?” I have a son… I had a son. Now there’s a freeloader in the house, but when I put money down. To what raise him up? A little worry on top of so many others. It stinks. Or is that me? Don’t Worry Your Life Away.

Monday, February 6, 2023

Saga 220 ~Don’t Worry Your Life Away~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… There aren’t consequences to my actions. “Only color we care about is the green of your dollars.’

I heard that in a movie called Posse (1993). Yes, I said Posse and not pussy. Not that pussy is a bad word… Um, have you seen Replika lately? Or how about the movie “Boomerang.” I should have a Black movie marathon. If only Braxton’s Aunt were here, Braxton himself. Anyway, I’m getting way off topic or not. Isn’t the whole point of today, well, tomorrow, since it’s Sunday, not to worry? But I am. A reason I didn’t want to talk to you today. Hell! What I wouldn’t give to go back to worrying about Braxton. Keeping him alive. Then there was the whole finding him again. And judging from the white ball of fluff next to me, I named Virgil. Is that him?

That smell? If anything, that’s what I’m most worried about. Being that smelly guy to a fired one. What about a dead one, since I seem to have the smell down these days? I did try that clinical deodorant I picked up from the store. But then again, I took a nap naked right after. Not a real test of movement. That moaning, groaning in bed, hmm? But we’ll get to that. What else do I have to be worried about? I have two words for ya! Suck It! Enough about the bedroom (sigh). In all seriousness, there’s the fucking Day Job. Anything else, Madam? Only if I didn’t want to go… how’s writing? Did you see my taxes last week? $1,000 less… fucking government.

As much as I want to burst into “Why Should I Worry?” As always, people suck. Or is it me? Did I mention green? The last time I checked, it wasn’t under my arms. But then, what is it then? If only I had more green in my wallet. I did the math today for an investment. If I took out what was owed, there would only be $1,700 in the savings, so (blank), please. You know what I meant to say. I wanted to go all Sho’Nuff from The Last Dragon. I should see The 1619 Project. I’ll admit I am worried about the USA but more about me. I’m pretty selfish. Puppies, pens, pleasures? I have a penis. Don’t Worry Your Life Away

736 Days Without B III, Day 177 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 217 ~Nosey About Virgil, Braxton~

I can’t say I did much showering the days after Braxton passed. Or maybe it’s all the sweating I’ve been doing trying not to… well. I could sue Degree Deodorant. Have I died alongside my boy? Is anyone nosey about this? “Nosey About Virgil, Braxton.”

Friday, February 3, 2023

Saga 217 ~Nosey About Virgil, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Okay, I need to buy a book on the subject, at the very least. Reading it…

Yeah right! My grandmommy bought me a book written by Chick-fil-A’s founder. I’m too lazy. Can’t even go upstairs and go fetch it. Braxton… well, he wouldn’t. But I miss him. Now my Granddaddy… How long am I going to talk about him, Lady Sophia? I read his obituary and found out he had “four” grandchildren. Guess I need to read up on the family. But I should have read up on deodorant. Yes, I’m still on that too. Who knows where I’ll be when we finally finish this conversation? It’s Wednesday, February 1, 2023. I shouldn’t be working so hard today. But all the times I’ve cried over Braxton. The story of Little B. Have I already forgotten the title with everything going on?

Stinking up joints and whatnot? B wouldn’t care. How many days was it? B III would cuddle next to me in my arm or by my legs. Knowing it’s my turn to protect him. Sophia, sometimes he may even show an interest in what I was reading… when appropriate. Which it hasn’t been. And considering it’s Friday, February 3, 2023. So time to finish our conversation. And, of course, I’m late, considering I worked a whopping four hours Thursday. I fell asleep at one in the morning. And what time is it now? Um, it’s 7:45. What have I been reading or, rather, watching… Hey! It’s been some words. Japanese.

  1. Miyajima Tsubaki -Saimin Seishidou
  2. Haji Shinchishin
  3. Kanojo Wa Dare To Demo Sex Suru
  4. Otogibanashi no Onigokko
  5. Muttsuri Do Sukebe Ro Gibo Shimai no Honshitsu Minuite Sex Zanmai
  6. Muramata san no himitsu
    To Be Continued…

Yes, Lady Sophia, I wanted to make a list. Virgil provides that time having “accidents” on the floor. I didn’t talk to him hardly at all yesterday until he grew the courage to check. Or did he smell the dead body that I have become? Seriously Lady Sophia, deodorant. Cherry and M Anime might appreciate it, not that I’ll be seeing them anytime soon… in a certain way. I’m as nosy as Atrioc; who got in trouble watching Deepfakes of girls on Twitch? I hope not. Everything else in this existence? I should keep my nose and smell to myself, Sophia. Nosey About Virgil, Braxton

733 Days Without B III, Day 174 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 216 ~Breathe, Virgil And B~

Smells Like Teen Spirit or worse. B was only fifteen. But I’m thirty-eight, crying over a second year without my son. He’d be eighteen come February 13. And I haven’t washed his bed since he passed. The smell… um, no, that’s me. Breathe, Virgil And B

Thursday, February 2, 2023

Saga 216 ~Breathe, Virgil And B~

732 Days Without B III, Day 173 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I remember how you used to dance, wag your tail, and your footsteps. Little toesy-wosies…

Oh, how long did it take me to learn English after you left? Uh, you’d listen to me rant, B. But of course, I’d rather not today. Only you wouldn’t have me crying either, Braxton. Confession was earlier this morning, Wednesday, February 1, 2023. I am still afraid, B III. Cooking something to eat? You’ll be happy to know I have food left from the funeral. No, not yours. I’m sort of pissed about that. It’s tradition. Barbeque… Piggie Potato. Yesterday, I wanted both. Only since the place I got my first meal without you sucks at making a Piggie Potato… Well, a part of you says I’m thinking about myself. But no B III. Well, other than the fact I stink… I don’t know.

Not any people around here to make me nervous. I swear I should have had you registered as Emotional Support. As for Virgil… He’s still breathing. A low blow Braxton? Please, he’s only been here about six months. Call me in fifteen years, eleven months. Actually, call me sooner, Braxton. I won’t forget about you. But then, forgetting myself, B? How I wish I could B III. For real, I want to forget about that damn funeral and my funk. One more reason I’m going to go ahead and finish that food from the funeral. And I can hope that I don’t hear from your grandparents for a while. All that’s taking me away, B. That’s how I lost you, B. Holding my breath boy

Barely. Forgetting. And not wanting to breathe. Being around people B III. It’s like I don’t have the right to be alive. I want to be so small. But you are my world, a god, and even a titan. And on today of all days, I remember carrying you dying. The smell of my failure. All I need is the air that I breathe. And if that meant I could keep you alive without pain. If I had to carry you around to keep you with me, B. I wouldn’t mind at all. Not ever. Always and forever, that smell I couldn’t put my finger on, holding you. Those McDonald’s fries you loved. Braxton, you’re my reason to breathe… and smell. Breathe, Virgil And B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 215 ~Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose~

Well, I finally fell asleep at 2:00 in the morning. So after waking up at 4:00 AM, blotting my eyes. After some bed antics, and reading a book, I’m ready to go. Um, a shower? Hasn’t been helping much lately, and “Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose.”

Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Saga 215 ~Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now; only you don’t know. I stink… sure. My writing sucks… ok; my son is dead, yep.

My Braxton is dead. And January 31, 2021, is the worst day, next to E-Day. But what about my granddaddy? Am I still going on about that? Not his death but yeah, humiliations galore like moi exist everywhere. And not only in my Day Job. I should have went Echo. Instead, I decided to stink up the funeral worse than a corpse. That’s pretty harsh against someone I don’t even know. Anyway, I got to get a new deodorant, Inspector. Whatever I got, I don’t know when. Well, it’s not working, and I have been stinking up joints royally. Hell! Is this my form of penance, confessing this shit? I’m sure my Ma was awfully embarrassed. And “What’s My Age Again?” Thirty-eight. And everyone else…

If only I could be as unknown as I am on Twitter. And Facebook, it looks like, but then yesterday. Um, like going on a week or so now. I’ve been losing people everywhere, Echo. Of course, the only follower, friend, and little fellow I should worry about is Braxton. What about Virgil, you ask? I didn’t hang out with him yesterday. Again, I’m a meanie. Or I didn’t want to deal with all the humiliation, shame, and guilt. If you want to know why I’m so late talking to you today. 9:05 in the morning. I was busy reading Inspector… Come on! That’s not a lie. I’m 60% into “The Book Eaters.” But I’m also a breast man. With two of my friends… Turned-on?

And I’m wondering why people are leaving in droves. All I think about… “Get Naked!” It’s either that or my little boy. And no, I don’t mean my “Enormous Penis….” Ok, Inspector, I’ll stop. With today being February 1, I should have plenty of respect Inspector. Talking to M Anime yesterday. A particular image she laid out would have me sprung. Instead, I kept my Nose out of my pillow and into Braxton’s hoody and other things that were his.

Oh, along with myself. I swear, after granddaddy’s funeral, I thought I caught COVID-19. Inspector, as the song goes, “I’m still alive.” The songs that Braxton begs me listen to. Inspector, he’s always and forever in my business… and heart. Plus, he doesn’t mind the smell… Braxton, Virgil, Everyone Nose

731 Days Without B III, Day 172 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

Ain’t no woman like the one I got… Blowing her off to spend time with my son. Braxton died today 2 years ago, at 15. He was 13 days shy of his birthday. To lose such a love… All the women in the world… I’m sorry. I want my boy back To B, Loved Again.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now… No! Scratch That! Leave Me Alone! Not Today, Please! Fuck!

(walks to Braxton’s old/new room)

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Good day… Last time I ever said that to you was Saturday, January 30, 2021. I should have starved. I’m sorry… Geez! Bad choice of words. I wanted to apologize for yelling at your stepmom; ok. But today, Braxton Barks Bradford. What? Today is our day, your day, the day? I don’t know how to say it. Like the vet’s office? If I were a good man, a great daddy, I’d head up to Banfield today. I would ask to sit on that bench for but a few minutes. Waiting, knowing, and yet I was hoping to. I had to. “He’s My Son!” I wanted to yell at those ladies, the vets, the whole damn world!

And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. How many times have I said that, Braxton? It never stops. Two years. Always and forever. Look at where I’m standing? What was it I read about Enshrinement? Braxton Barks Bradford… Whatever, you’ll always be here. Only how many apologies do I have? There’s Never Enough. I’m sorry about this week. What about the last week you were alive? I had so many plans for what today might be like, Braxton. I would have been better off joining you the day you died. Too damn easy. I’m sorry for talking to you today… It’s Sunday, January 29, 2023. You were dying. Braxton, that was on a Friday in 2021, but you know that. Triple B, I love you

Always and forever! B III, nothing turned out right, then or now. This second anniversary. Who knows? I could get lucky, and my “father” could kill me Monday. Funeral… Ironic. If I wanted to die, why not blow off your great-granddaddy’s funeral. Making money? To think I believed the old Day Job was my punishment, my damnation, and indifference. No, Braxton. Losing you and having to suffer with living relatives and what about, um… I ain’t mentioning him today. I want to sit on our loveseat and watch movies. Barbecue? Braxton, that was my first meal without you. That night, “I’ll never be loved again.” Braxton, you have to know, You Were Loved. You are loved. I once was. I am… To B, Loved Again

730 Days Without B III, Day 171 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~

Life is hard. Don’t recommend. I died between seven and twenty-one. Then came Braxton. And for fifteen years, it was “stay alive.” Then I was free to die. Hell! If I wanted that, why not skip this funeral. But tomorrow… Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages

Monday, January 30, 2023

Saga 213 ~Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… So what do you want to buy, you ask? A box? House, coffin, a place for Braxton?

My head hurts. I wish I could say it’s for Braxton. It should all be for B right this second. No such luck. I should be at the Day Job crying my eyes out to see my son die, Madam. But beside me sits a piece of black plastic and metal. I’m waiting to hear it ring about me “skipping” the Day Job today. To think I’d crave that place. “I don’t want to work….” Only I don’t want to go to my granddaddy’s funeral either. A man in a box… And honest to “God,” Madam. The only reason I’m going is that I don’t want to join in death… Fucking conflicted. Last night all I could think about was, “Free Your Mind.” “Bang, Bang”

In more ways than one, Madam. For now, let us focus instead on the boom, boom of a heart. But it should be my B’s heart. I look to my other side and see the box I put him in. Hell! I even moved Virgil out of the way. He’s sitting in Braxton’s room right now. If only he were Braxton, and that’s mean, I know. Again it was only last night Virgil crept out. Walking into the den, Virgil jumped up, wanting to cuddle. Did Virgil hear this heart? Broken? I keep saying that, but I can feel it pounding, and it will only get worse as the day goes on. There is no escape Madam. All last night I prayed for my death.

That’s something I’ll own. Or the “Bang, Bang” in my shorts. Fucking up this morning. Only it could be the guilt, fear, or anxiousness which also comes with masturbation. Yuck! Talk about something that should be kept surrounded by bones. Don’t you think so too? Skin and bones. Which appears even more likely when I see what I was getting back on the tax return. I won’t be boning anytime soon… that is if I paid for it. Working hard. Madam Justice, I wish I was today. It’s going to be a long day. But what about tomorrow, hmm? I put a better man in a box; my son Braxton. I can do without my head. My heart’s for Braxton. Hard Enough, Hearts Have Cages.

729 Days Without B III, Day 170 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 210 ~Mediums B, V, Granddaddy~

I can’t say that writing is a “release.” Too much porn for that. It makes things bearable. There was no one to talk to about Braxton’s death. And Virgil’s life is sitting in the dark… My granddaddy’s passing? I don’t know. Mediums B, V, Granddaddy

Friday, January 27, 2023

Saga 210 ~Mediums B, V, Granddaddy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But is being a trillionaire too extreme? That’s what these days feel like. To the extreme

This coming from the “Lazy Ass” sitting in bed at six in the morning. At this time in 2021, I should have been paying attention to B. Gospel 210 ~Will To Break Free~ Well, I wasn’t. And even today, with so much to do, Lady Sophia. I wonder how Braxton felt while I was worried about “Shawshank.” Shows what kind of Daddy I’d become. The one that let him die. No, correction! The one who killed him. Euthanasia. Killing? Yesterday I brought up to B III the differences between Treachery and Betrayal. Braxton’s still dead. Um, that’s something I should bring up to one of these “animal communicators,” oh yeah. Before I go, get Braxton’s story tattooed on my flesh. But I know the story.

And V’s is in the process of being written. It’s not a very good one so far. I’ll admit it. Hell! Last night I left him in the Den, thinking he would go to the pillow in B III’s room. He might even decide to come to bed. This was at nine last night. So, where was Virgil this morning? I can’t even say he was the first thought I had. Being Virgil’s Dad, (scoffs). Besides missing Braxton… There was a blonde in a bikini. Sabrina Nichole’s “first sex tape” getting ready to come out. Don’t forget; there was Aphrodite from “Record of Ragnarok.” Anyway, when I got in a better headspace… Did I say that? Well, I got up. There’s Virgil on the couch.

He’s dealing with his stuff. But if he was B III… Honest, these pornographic passions? Braxton would have listened to me all last night as I talked about granddaddy. What can I say? That’s the thing bothering me. Talking about Braxton, always and forever. And I still want to learn even more about him. The spirits, seers, say something. I’m listening. I can tell you stories about Virgil. Only they won’t be good ones, Lady Sophia. Though I do imagine he might be able to sift through this existence. Somehow, someway… Granddaddy? The last time I heard from him, he said he didn’t know me. Um, that’s a ditto from me. So I sit with his death knowing nothing, Answers, release? Mediums B, V, Granddaddy

726 Days Without B III, Day 167 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

I didn’t sign up for this… stuff. But in 2021, on the 31st of this month, I signed the paperwork to end my son’s life. I swear he gave me a look that said, “Daddy, can we go home?” And now 2023, I got a call from “home.” Death… “Death, B Not Virgil.”

Thursday, January 26, 2023

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

725 Days Without B III, Day 166 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, I’m still breathing. So is Virgil. My “granddaddy,” your great-grandfather, not so much today.

I didn’t sign up for this shit. Being born, Braxton. I know you’ll hate me saying this, but it was the second worse day of this existence. If I had a choice B III to do it all over again… I didn’t sign up to be your daddy, either. I’m 38, and you were the greatest love of what I wish I could say is “my life.” It was the greatest honor to be your Dad, Braxton. I mean that B. I didn’t sign up to kill you… Well, no. There was actual paperwork involved in that, I remember. Sings out… “(Remember who you are) I remember (Remember what you did to him).” At this rate, I’ll have to do it again. Only Virgil’s 2.

You know he’s okay, Braxton. Starts singing again… “Lift me up. Hold me down. Keep me close. Safe and sound.” That’s Little Virgil, Rihanna, you know what I mean, Braxton. One more reason I wish you were around. Because I have no idea. Today’s thoughts… When I was leaving and listening to Virgil cry, I couldn’t help but think. Betrayal. Treachery. For the record, that’s the difference between you and him B. Looked it up. Betrayal is violating loyalty, love, and your very life. Treachery’s the same but without any loyalty. Anyway. As I listened to Virgil, I thought of you and said, “fucking ninth circle.” Then there was the text about your great-grandfather. Your grandma is who I’m worried about. And what about me?

The third thought of the day. As I was leaving the Day Job, I read this flyer saying something like, “It’s okay to talk about suicide.” Do you remember when your great-grandma died? It was the day your grandfather kicked me out. Hell! I deserved that, given my age. It was the longest we were apart, Triple B. It was around 2 months. Terrible! Braxton, there came your Aunt’s wedding, which was about 5 days as I went to see her, which wasn’t bad at all. And now here we are 725 days, almost 2 years. Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~. I couldn’t see how sick you were getting? How do I feel about my granddaddy? RIP. Virgil’s life? Death, B Not Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 208 ~B Virgil In Time~

A big lie, I tell myself… There’s No Time. What did I do all this morning? And those small instances when I’m trying to teach V (sigh). I had all the time in the world after the Day Job, but I was so mad. Braxton paid with time. B Virgil In Time

Wednesday, January 25, 2023

Saga 208 ~B Virgil In Time~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, ha-ha. How I wish. It would be better if Virgil (formerly Archie) knew who he was. And me… I’m a Boob.

Not the guy that should be worrying about taxes, calling the termite guy. Terrible Daddy? That last one we’ll get to in a while. Only I need to make a list of the necessary things. Yeah, it’s not like my Six Impossible Things are any closer. Even pepped up with energy. Please, I’ll be asleep by five. And speaking of closing my eyes, have I cried for B III today? I did curse out Virgil for stepping in shit last night. As I’ve said, January is not a good time. And isn’t this entire existence about me stepping in shit? One more reason we’re talking now. But (sigh) we’ll finish well today because what shit will the Day Job bring. Again, taxes, termites, filters, adulting…

When all I want to do is be a little boy, curled up in blankets crying for my best friend. That Inspector Echo is what is pissing me off the most. Well, the Day Job. But besides blaming myself for Braxton’s death, I blame them for making me hate. Republicans? Inspector, I’d make a damn good one if I was some old white Trumptard. But no, I want to talk about my son (Braxton) and the boy (Virgil) in this house. Whatever will I do? There will be barbecue and dog movies. No new treasures as I look at the account that doesn’t say billion. So why do I keep saying I AM? Hell! I am still Braxton’s Daddy, and nothing will change that Inspector.

But then there’s an animal communicator I want to talk to sometimes, Inspector. A wish. And before that, I meant to speak to some of these counselors. About what I will do with Virgil, come the day. When has anyone ever agreed with me? Oh, right, I killed him. And it should have been me, but this isn’t Heaven. Tuesday begging for heavenly boobs. Only she refused, so I had money to spend on books. And those books, Echo, weren’t about burying fur babies. Inspector, love and hate Amazon. Wonder what they and other stores must think of me? When the truth is “I Don’t Know Who I Am.” I could use a “Repair Man,” a bug guy, a counselor, or an adult. Virgil? No, Braxton. B Virgil In Time

724 Days Without B III, Day 165 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

E-Day. That’s the second worse day of existence. Um, Thanksgiving. But nowhere near as big when Braxton was here. And possibly New Year’s. But next week this day is a holiday. A memorial. Only I’m not alone, but I want to be. Virgil’s Holiday From B.

Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But as the song goes, “money can’t buy me love.” Free me from Hate? Horniness? Happiness?

Um, it got my B a trip to Heaven or wherever. It’s this time next week I’ll Hate the most. A permanent vacation. A holiday away from me. And I’m sure you can relate, love. Reason number whatever we’re talking about today, Monday, January 23, 2023. It feels like I’m working the old Day Job all over again. Tomorrow I rather not be bothered. Next week? I don’t hate my family, ever. It’s not Virgil either though he’s becoming a brat. As I said so many times, it’s not veterinarians, old age, or even the disease that took my boy. “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Yes, more music. You know, I still need to pick a song on Spotify. Twenty-Four days.

But there are some things you can’t get away from, you know. Another song, love? Fucking Enrique Iglesias “You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love.” Loving someone never takes a holiday but liking them… Whatever and I going to do with Virgil? I’m ashamed that this time has crept up on me and when next week rolls around, love… When was the last time I cried for Braxton? These might be my first tears for today. Come the 31st; I want to eat barbeque and watch dog movies. Even Spontaneous, sadly. Hell! I did read “A Dog’s Journey.” So I could watch the film now. (Cringes). Uncomfortably? I remember the book, that was all kinds of… Who cares; Braxton’s dead.

Always the worse pain imaginable. There’s no escape, and no, I can’t give it a rest. But I know you would never say that. And crazy? Well, knowing V ain’t B. I’ve been reading up on animal communicators. I could try and find one and see what happens. I could see where Virgil stands vet-wise. When I went to Braxton’s Aunt’s wedding, I boarded B III for a few days. It couldn’t hurt to send Virgil away for two days to honor my son. Would that be honoring Braxton? And what about our family? I’m not going out for smokes. The 31st of all days. When I’ll be the most alone. I want to be. Anywhere but being loved and happy. Virgil’s Holiday From B

723 Days Without B III, Day 164 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will