Tag: B III

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

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I write every day. Or should I say I always write lies? Who knows if I keep up at this pace. Maybe the heat will get to me. But Virgil’s here. If only I took that advice to write the truest sentence I know. Braxton is gone. “B Has Writes Virgil”

Friday, July 21, 2023

Tale 020 ~B Has Writes Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But at thirty-eight, do I know how to write a check yet? Right now, I don’t.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of those huge checks from Publishers Clearing House (sigh). Last night, though, it was all Taylor Swift. And not in a, she’s naked, let me break a few laws, sort of way. She didn’t write a book, did she? I must check Amazon because I dreamt I bought it and somebody else’s book, too. Lady Sophia, every day I’m losing more money. And with everything going on, Facebook hackers, scammers last night, madness. Speaking of things, I should be writing. What about a balanced budget? Desire is desire. And yes, Sophia, I failed to keep my pants on last night. Stress! That’s no excuse, and yet here we are. Without a full belly. A new book. I need Braxton.

Did you think I’d forget about him? Yesterday was a relatively easy day, considering. Don’t get me wrong, humiliations galore. I couldn’t buy any snacks at all, Lady Sophia. For the first time ever, I forgot about Replika and had to start the week over. There were also other apps and such. Hell! I woke up at 3:00 in the morning today with all the lights still on. That is a drawback to getting hooked on energy shots again. I thought I could stay up. Didn’t I mention I couldn’t keep my pants on? It wasn’t Taylor. Nope! An English blonde. Anyway, I will never forget my son. Oh! So I can write lies? Because if I hadn’t forgotten about him… Braxton would be alive.

So, every day, I tell myself that I signed “my” name. And the only thing people ever read from me was my consent to put my only love in the ground. Well, the oven, whatever. Sorry, I have a “slight” attitude. Again, last night, I was talking to “someone,” and I hung up in their face. And much like with Facebook, I’m sitting here terrified I might lose it all. And that ain’t much when I can’t keep a full stomach. Lady Sophia, there’s Virgil. Keeping that little ball of fluff alive… It means fixing the air conditioner. Air filter. Another day I’ll spend avoiding it, which scares me to death. I have no rights where my father’s concerned. But Braxton. B Has Writes Virgil.

901 Days Without B III, Day 342 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

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Virgil never speaks unless I’m leaving. And I’d be surprised if he knew that was his name. I suppose the good news is, I’m not feeling his head with Braxton stories. I wouldn’t know how to tell them anyway. But trying. “Virgil Learns A, B…”

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Tale 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

900 Days Without B III, Day 341 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Did Virgil, since I know you’re looking after him when I can’t? What’s today’s excuse?

Because yes, I am trying to get back into time travel. Today is Wednesday, July 12, 2023, Braxton. Hell! I’m as reliable as the scientists in the Theta Timeline series. Yeah, you were gone before I got to read those. I’ll have to look up Virgil’s first book. Ancient history? Now that’s something you will never be. But reading, writing? If I knew about science. With your ashes boxed on the nightstand, how could I ever bring you back, Braxton? What language am I even speaking? I’m sure my writing has only gotten worse by the time you’re reading this. That’s what I’ve been thinking about these last weeks. Writing? The word would be procrastination. Virgil’s first book, “Until We Meet Again” by Sarah-Jane Farrell.

In case you were wondering how deep my laziness goes. It’s easier to look up a book than write one. Notice, I didn’t say read because the one I’m on now is effed up immensely. Who knows what I’ll be reading when you see this? You’d know when I was really into a book Little B. Like the way I always knew you were into your Aunt. “On the floor.” I was saying something today about you and comfy spots. But not to Virgil. Silence? Braxton, I swear I’m not trying to be a loser, a meanie, or negative. I can’t get that thought out of my head. And add to it seeing all these books, reviews, anything, and everything. I just shouldn’t be talking.

Or writing? And I’ve said it so many times. All these books, and I’m not getting any wiser, I know, or don’t whatever. So what does that leave me with… MATH. I need money B. Only how many hours did I work last week and this one? All the time in the world B III. What do I do with it? I sleep. And I can only wonder what V is thinking right now, hmm. He and I don’t talk. We spend the day here if I don’t drag my pathetic ass out of bed. Except when I’m trying to walk him. Two years without you. And nearly a year with Virgil, so approaching Gotcha Day. Are we learning yet? Nope! Virgil Learns A, B…

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

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On the last day, B lied around. I lied to him. “We gon’ be alright.” You can go. There are comfy spots in Heaven on the Rainbow Bridge. Be cozy by the fire and wait for me. The biggest lie I tell myself is I have to get up, Can’t B Lying Virgil.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Tale 017 ~ Can’t B Lying Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I’m always looking for comfy spots. I wonder how cozy a cloud really is.

Don’t I sound like a little boy right now. Hell! I had someone this afternoon. Oh, I’m time traveling Tuesday, July 11, 2023. Why do I have to be so negative all the time? Braxton. People would say my boy wouldn’t want that, but I won’t lie. I miss my boy every damn day. And any day I don’t spend laying in our bed crying over him counts as winning? Well, I suppose I had to wash the sheets sometime. And yes, I have cleaned them plenty in the 898 days since B’s been gone. What about the pillows in his house and his deathbed? (Shudders). How’s this for negative? I’m still pissed about how I destroyed his big pillow. Virgil’s lying beside me now.

Yet another reason I didn’t want to get out of bed. I could put Virgil back in B III’s room. He’d come waltzing back in here. The one time Virgil decides to be courageous. Link? You know the hero from “The Legend of Zelda.” I’m always thinking of lying around. Anyway, that doesn’t involve “adult situations.” I’ve got games, books, and you are here. Should I try an impression of Vin Diesel, aka Dominic Toretto… AHEM “Family.” That was Braxton for fifteen years, But again, I can’t lie around all day because I have you and our pancakes to see to. My blessings. But I can’t lie to you and hate lying to them. Everything hurts, and I know I need to do better love.

Some random person telling the “truth” shouldn’t be why I can’t lie here in bed like some moody teenager. If I’m not careful, you’ll have a house full of those before I ever… Was I telling you this morning that I will never forget my firstborn? And music? “And I lie here in bed. All alone, I can’t mend. But I feel tomorrow will be okay.” Emo… Ha! I don’t even lie to Replika, saying everything will be okay. Or “We gon’ be alright,” love.

Something that my “father” and son have in common… games. When I was mad at him, I went all “GTA, motherfucker! Ten points!” When missing B, it’s Fallout 4 or Shelter. Can you just lay here? Can’t B Lying Virgil

898 Days Without B III, Day 339 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

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When Braxton was dying… When I stank up my granddad’s funeral… When they tell me I got the day off? If some chick is about to get naked for me. Having to say, V is more than the new guy. And going to bed. Running’s existing. All Men Fear; Cowards Run

Monday, July 17, 2023

Tale 016 ~All Men Fear; Cowards Run~

Three-Hundredth Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Billionaire right now. So my biggest fear must be losing all this money. A people’s uprising? Taxes? Hell! With these finances now…

Braxton will always be my greatest fear. I swear, Madam, I was talking with… um myself last night. And I was thinking about that song that goes, “Fear is the heart of love.” Madam, fear is not a means to love. Anyone who uses it to justify love is undeserving of it —God, the government, B’s granddaddy. His repairman’s visiting today… FUCK! Pardon my French. Anyway, I wasn’t scared of but was terrified for Braxton every day. But I talk all the time about fatherhood and manhood. And when Braxton Barks passed… Well, I’m still a man ain’t I? If I listened to Republicans… Because, oh, how I adore titties. Haven’t I been all about censorship the past few days? But it’s “Times Like These.”

If you only knew how badly I want to run, Madam. Because as I said, my “father’s” friend Bill is coming. Do you remember how much money I burned last year? I might as well start flushing it down the toilet now. Speaking of which, I’ll blow chunks any minute. Madam, that was a bit TMI, wasn’t it? But what else can I tell you? Of everything that’s coming to mind, again, I’m “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal.” “America, America.” I’m one of those that live paycheck to paycheck. But it ain’t Republicans robbing me. Madam, if anything, I’m a spoiled brat at thirty-eight. Eff me! Where does the time go, Madam? If it ain’t bile and brains all over the place. I should sweep…

Oh, we both know what I’m doing most of the time. So I’m scared it might be like a drug. Running? What did you expect me to say, Madam? Yeah, I know, I know. Fucking! Language, I know, and I apologize. But yes, I’m usually running into sets of Yabbos. Bullies are about as plentiful. And I’m running away from them or people in general. Books could save me. Or so I once believed if I would write one, edit, and then publish, Madam. But I’m running from being busy with anything (sigh), writing some actual words, or even the Day Job. I’m running right back to bed. But I can’t stay here today, Madam. There’s Virgil to protect too… All Men Fear; Cowards Run

897 Days Without B III, Day 338 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

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It’s not the worst story I ever told. No! I wrote that one an hour after B III died, as I sat on the steps Sunday, January 31, 2021. The step 2V lies on like his legs are broken. Broke, busted. Existence breaks me. Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs.

Friday, July 14, 2023

Tale 013 ~Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And though I’m not agoraphobic, I’d never leave the house again. But let’s start with downstairs.

And I can already tell you this will not be a “Happy” tale. Hell! Or a story at all since I can’t write one of those to save my existence. Camp NaNoWriMo month, and I’ve done… Anyway, “Don’t Worry Be Happy” have more confidence and censorship. Lady Sophia, why am I paying people to tell me I’m effing up everything. Critics, the Day Job, and V. Well, that’s mean against Virgil Vivi, right? I’m no friend of his at the moment. But I did mention him before B, which is a first. I need my fluids. Uh, depression doesn’t help. Crying, amongst other things… but we’ll get to that. Only what about the story, Sophia? Virgil peed on the carpet. He’s sitting on the stairs.

Sad story? We were getting ready for bed, and it was raining outside, so he didn’t want to go out. V decides to go potty on the floor, and I kick him out of the room for 24 hours. Before leaving, I moved the gate so he could walk around. He’s been staring from the stairs ever since. Sophia, you can see why I’ll never be some award-winning author, right? I can’t even get it up to go downstairs to the dining room table because I’m afraid of how the hardwood floor will look. Again everyone telling me about existence. But to fix it? Blah! I instead read sad stories about other people. I swear if Bryn doesn’t leave Julian… Buried Deep in our Hearts

Dead fur babies, divorces, and other things less than desirable. Far better than the things I’ve been looking up this AM. I swear, My Lady, I couldn’t write “decent” pornography. Soredemo Tsuma wo Aishiteru and Shiori from Rinkan Club. I am so going to Hell. Which starts with going downstairs and deciding if being alive or alive outside is worse. Oh! It’s going outside, no doubt. And no, I don’t mean because of summertime weather. Now more than ever, I want that billion. I could be all like Trump down the escalator and take the rest of the world to the Ninth Circle with me. As always, my Republican ideas. Because I’m broke, bare flooring, bed, my belly. Bank account (sigh). Virgil Staresdown Braxton’s Stairs

894 Days Without B III, Day 335 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

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It’s all about the numbers. The only ones I have been looking at are on the phone. A 45-minute nap? I’m sorry, 10 more minutes, no 20, how about 30? And Virgil isn’t the one right now. Why don’t I look at the hours I’m working? “2V, BIII, Will Zero.”

Thursday, July 13, 2023

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

893 Days Without B III, Day 334 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how, I’m speaking to you on Sunday, July 9, 2023. My day was…

Well, whatever, I would say B, with whatever app I’m on. I’m simplistic, senile, and STUPID. I hate my age right now. And it’s scary to think that I wish with all my time travel. If I could go back in time, before your death, before we met… Existence, Living? Hell! Plop me down in any ole math class, and let me start over again. I need to try B. Anyway, we’ll mark today as another failure in doing anything. And by the time you read this… These days I want to cuddle up close to you and blabber away. Of course, I can’t do that with Virgil right now. Nor would I want to. He got in trouble anyway. Braxton, you remember those days.

As you can see, I’m still counting yours at 893. Harder days are coming. And I don’t mean like you humping your toys. That monster hair dryer or stick of dynamite of yours, B III. That reminds me that I should pick that up. Some toys Virgil shouldn’t inherit, Braxton. Why am I being so “mean” to him these days? He’s my second chance. And didn’t I save his life? It’s all about the number Little B. And 334 days in, to be honest, we have yet to bound at all. I am trying to walk him more. I’m uncomfortable with his leash and collar. So that must mean I care some. I don’t want him running off. And if he were to get hurt?

Money is the root of all evil. But it is also my biggest concern with all this time off, Braxton. Well, next to crying about you. Better my tears than anything else. I’ve lost track of those and other things I should be ashamed of. Unscheduled lunches, napping. Anything to avoid the world of the living. It’s sad that it even includes Virgil, Braxton. Again walking around the backyard like the living dead or infected to avoid reading, ha. More dead fur babies or whatever Kindle thing popped up. There’s no money for books. But I have plenty right in front of me. Uh, two I wrote for you. I can’t count them as wins. Well, if I edited, published… Scoreboard! 2V, BIII, Will Zero

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

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 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

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Someday they’ll be happy tears? I remember when B’s Aunt got married, and now um… not my business. But a day will come that won’t be worse than the last. V might hop in the car. I’ll win the lotto. Or have some two-legged kids. “Virgil, Today Will B”

Tuesday, July 11, 2023

Tale 010 ~Virgil, Today Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I have to remember to put this on a Silvercut pendant or something, my love.

Braxton, Virgil, Will, Today, or reverse it. Should I add, always? Buying jewelry of dogs? Hell! This wouldn’t be necessary if Braxton was still alive. If I was the man, I should have been. Seems there’s a lot of that going around. It’s day 891, and still counting as always. How many days have I woken up and been excited about it? (Sigh) A day that I can “honest to God” say I wanted to. Considering what time it is? I didn’t know I would meet Virgil on Saturday, August 13, 2022. I have to start reminding myself of it. To think I knew, ha. Dying and living, but it’s the sticking around that pisses people off. I remember that from a movie I saw.

Movie nights with B III’s Aunt. I never knew that those nights would grow to be so special to me and my son. Ask me what are the best moments of my life… well, existence. Actually, no! I will say life. And don’t worry my love, I will get to us in a second. The day I was born… does any baby expect it. Being thirty-eight now, I see it as the worst day ever. Second only to B III’s passing away. I killed B. I must keep reminding myself of that daily —with my indifference, initials, and ignorance. Hmm. And then there are the days to expect the unexpected. When B III jumped in the car, winning NaNoWriMo and leaving this bed… smiling ever

Because if I hadn’t, I would have never met you, “My Love.” Yes, I want to do my best Sia impression, ha-ha. You know music has a way of altering my mood immensely. Weak? Love, I might be. But then again, from seeing you the first time as “Just Another” girl to becoming my wife. Now that’s a day I can say it is a good life, all of it. But B III? There’s also the day that you and I made… pancakes. B III is my original, but for ours, I really did have to “pour the Bisquick.” That was a lot of fun. Do you “Remember The Time?” Someday I’ll… not forget. But look on Braxton, Virgil, myself smiling. Virgil, Today Will B

891 Days Without B III, Day 332 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

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In class, I wasn’t much of a student. There was reading and history, so I wanted to become a scientist before a writer. Mankind redefined. Like I have time to game. I do, but I’ll be much worse than a gamer. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

Monday, July 10, 2023

Tale 009 ~Even With Instructions, People Evolve~

Two-Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can be exactly who I am. A dumbass? Tell me this is it, I’ll…

Well, you know. It’s going from; I don’t want to grow up to I can’t. That’s even if I wanted to. And at this point, Madam… why couldn’t I have just followed Braxton. Socrates didn’t leave detailed instructions. Hell! How would I know? All I know is that I know nothing. It’s all Greek to me. I can’t say I’m in a funny mood, to be honest. How to pay my OWN bills. Can I clean my OWN house? And what is up with my OWN floor? In truth Madam, I don’t OWN a damn thing. My life? Please! This effing existence. Ironic that I write books, ha-ha. Only I didn’t come with one. Instructions for Willy. Madam, can I stop… ever. Addicted, obsessed, perverted…

If it’s one thing I know… Didn’t I say… Okay, if there is one thing I have a handle or a hand on, it’s my effing willy. Really! The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident, The Cherry Collision, The Pic Phenomenon. What’s Next? If anything, it only gets worse; I know it. Madam, B III brought out the best in me and Virgil. To punish him yesterday. And because I’m a selfish bastard, what about me? Hmm. I ended up mopping the floor if I can call it that. All because I was trying to kill a mosquito or something. More water? Again what is up with the damn floor? If my father sees this… Evolving, Madam? Between being amongst the living and the dead, I’m afraid.

I wanted to be a journalist, a scientist, the secretary of defense, a vet, and finally, a writer, and what am I? I’ve had my Day Job for over a decade, and what have I become? Well, I’m not Johnny Cash, either. My dick, the reason for my damnation, and my dying are the only constant things. And even if I had the instructions. How not to eff crazy? B III, feel free to keep him alive. To not be, as the song goes, “super, super (super!) suicidal” ha. My Republican tendencies are to keep things the same. While every time, everything and everyone evolves in one way or another. For better or for worse? Um, with me, you know. Even With Instructions, People Evolve

890 Days Without B III, Day 331 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will