Tag: Breathing

Tale 131 ~B LEAD Virgil Sometimes~

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I see B from time to time on wobbly legs, walking towards his water bowl. He couldn’t stand being so weak to take a drink right next to his bed. Virgil is very much alive, and he waits for me to lead him towards… life. “B LEAD Virgil Sometimes.”

Thursday, November 9, 2023

Tale 131 ~B LEAD Virgil Sometimes~

1012 Days Without B III, Day 453 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m time-traveling here as it’s Wednesday today. But Braxton, “Every Day Is Exactly The Same.”

Virgil and I both agree on that. But monster, man, where’s my Ma because Daddy… Even now, Braxton, as Michael Jackson sang it, “But the kid is not my son.” I swear, B III, I’m not the man to follow. Only you know that, seeing as how you went straight to Heaven… Or so I assume. The Rainbow Bridge, Elysium? How about where the enemy goes in Final Fantasy VIII when you use Selphie Tilmitt’s The End Ability? Ok, whatever. For the record, Sorceress Ultimecia was my hardest kill next to you, my best friend. Braxton, what is wrong with me today? As THEY say, if it bleeds, it leads, so I begin with your passing most days. It’s what leads me, always and forever.

To what, though? This week has been all about me leading. The Day Job, doggie, and me being late because I’m too busy dicking around. Hell! I know where I want to go, B III. Did you send Virgil here so I wouldn’t follow you? Pretty sneaky, bro… Braxton Barks! I’d yell at you for that, but I’m not that kind of boss, father, or anything else. Monster? Most monsters aren’t the ones being followed. I don’t want anyone following me because, again, I know where I’m going and where I want to go, and these aren’t good places B. Every day, I take a step closer to Hell if I’m not already there. And as always, I want to know where you are, Braxton.

Are you waiting for me? Not if I blame you for Virgil being here. He waits for me to lead him everywhere. Or more like to follow, but Virgil needs my permission even to exist. Never! And we are way past spooky season. Before that, E-Day put me a step closer to the grave. I want to say closer to you, but that’s something I didn’t ask, Braxton. Sigh. Where are you going? Why are you going? I take it Heaven wasn’t a car ride. Hell! Does that explain why you wanted to come home with me? When the car seems a better choice. And what is all this leading me to? I can’t get out of the way of existence. B LEAD Virgil Sometimes

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

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Am I ready to live or exist? Am I ready to read about life? Last week, I read of a guy and a corpse. Now, there’s a guy, a corpse, and a witch coven. People celebrate Christmas… now. I celebrate Halloween? Effing dead. Never Ready. Read… Ready… B, V.

Friday, November 3, 2023

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But I would rather write you a few. Hell! I should have written several. Next Week?

It’s like listening to Succubus Lord for… I don’t know how many times by now. But according to Audible, it’s been a lot. And you know what I want to say about them. Only I go back and forth on this whole censorship thing. I wish I could say certain things and call it free speech. It’s why I keep my mouth shut, ears filled and lost fifteen bucks. Meh. Yet opening my eyes and reading. It didn’t occur to me to read all those pet loss books while Braxton was dying. He was going to live. Sophia, that’s where faith lays, with B III. But at the same time, I read as I didn’t want to worry about it with B crossing the bridge.

Now, why do I bring this up today? Well, besides the fact that I talk about B III every day. If I had to express all my fears, we would be here, My Lady. Uh, “EVERYTHING” isn’t that hard to say? Writing it? Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t write Braxton’s name one day. Hmm? Before I decide to start scanning years sniffle worth of blogs. Again, what’s with today? It’s how I stayed ahead to watch my boy cross over. And yet, I’m not ready to step out of this bed. One step towards life or even a better existence at this point. And as I say that, My Lady. There was a zombie package at the door. A package for my package. Uh gross.

I really didn’t make a joke about “my” new toys, did I? My Lady, that’s the only thing I’m ever ready for. I’m always ready to get some. So, when was the last time that happened? This is more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but I’m always ready to read the truth. The last time I ever “got some” would be around seven years ago. Never in this house!!! And I can’t even blame that on Braxton. When it came to Carolina Bound, the woman I would make his honorary aunt since she’s like a sister to me. My son did try to play wingman. Did I ever read to him about moms? Not even how girls became mothers. Nope. Read… Ready… B, V

1006 Days Without B III, Day 447 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

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People want a reset button. I don’t. I’ll wait for someone to push the wrong one, as I’m too lazy to play the game. And This Is America where even doors are an issue, Mr. Cruz. I try not to push people’s buttons, but B, V. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

1005 Days Without B III, Day 446 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only been seven hours, and I’m already counting today as a loss. Nothing new.

Speaking of which, “my” bank account. Not that we talked about that much, Little B. Every day, you had a roof over your head, a collar around your neck, food in your bowl, and… Ain’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m your child. You had me. I didn’t ask to be here. Whatever happened to that video, Braxton? Were you even here during that? The things I need to give up. But no worries, B III, it will never be Virgil Vivi. He’s here. Still collarless… May I remind you how you’d sometimes get your nail stuck in yours? And with all the button pushing, getting your collar off was just the worst. Did I finally find something I would not like to repeat?

Hell! To me, that’s called breathing. This is one more reason this week’s been horrible. All the time in the world, Braxton. And what have I done with it? I just push a button, son. And as the song goes, “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Or at least I can pretend a lot B. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” That is not a game Virgil likes to play. Then again, I’m at the dining room table while his pillow is in the wash. Vomiting. Not this again, B. Especially with how next week will be. Fear, Pain? I’ll never forget the one when you left me here all alone. Didn’t I say Virgil’s here… How do I forgive myself? Just push a button.

But not one of these buttons has the word LIVE on the front. And even if one did B III… There’s always the one that sends me right back to sleep. We’re approaching 9:00 AM. Before I try lying away, you know what begins in November. NaNoWriMo? Um, No F… And I already screwed that up. I should wear pants with buttons more often. Only, it’s never a good thing anytime I leave the house, except for running with your Aunt Carolina. I hope you’re checking in on her and the doctors. There are so many buttons to push I could never be one. Only I’m not much of a writer either. Because existing Braxton, without your button nose, really sucks. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

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So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

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Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

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Is Braxton listening? How high’s the water bill just for refilling a bowl to sit there. Not wasting money on food as nobody needs to see me sobbing in the middle of Walmart. If it wasn’t for my madness, would I even speak? “Will’s Sound Of Silence.”

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not because I’m close to anything like Simon & Garfunkel. What does silence sound like?

Someone asked this on Ridiculousness. I’m surprised I remember that; it’s background noise because I’m still listening for Braxton. That’s the simplest answer I have, Lady Luna. A life with a dog and then keep living without them. Every day, keep going, on and on. Sobbing, screaming, up until the very end, I was praying. I have prayed, I mean really 3 times in my life. Only once for myself. Save him somehow, save my son, save my Braxton. Every time I left the house, I prayed continuously. Haven’t talked to God in 6 days. Seventh-day he rested if I know my Bible. Other books have become background as well without Braxton’s breaths, the beats of his heart. Even his bellyaching. Then he wasn’t eating.

Sucking up to me and dying. Showing such strength because Braxton didn’t want me to worry. I want to hear his paws on the floor again. The way he would lap up water and dive into food. Especially when he knew that there would be sharing Daddy’s sometimes. His “humpfs” Sleep came easier to the both of us. Well fuck, he protected me, and what did I do for him? I am not a liar, Lady Lu. I put him to “sleep?” No, I sleep when I can because when I wake up, I’m here without him. It’s 1 more second I have to live with what I’ve done. Murderer… say it again and again because he’s no longer here. Braxton, such was my goodness.

Sorry is all I hear now, which only makes the silence that much louder. The first day it was like the heavens opened up for my boy. Another day it was a choir. Then the “tryouts.” It’s been oh 6 days, I’m crying, my heart is cracking, breaking, shattering, yes. Selfish of me to put such suffering on others, isn’t it? I’m not blaming anyone but me. I’m the one who had to cover up his name because scammers, scum, and snakes came out of the woodwork. The one life I could turn to is the life that I ended. Braxton, I still talk to. Signs of my madness saying “Night, Night,” “Medicine Time, etc.

Because his quiet is too much. Will’s Sound of Silence.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~

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Goodnight B, sweet dreams, I tell him like it’s any other night. I love you like pancakes, I say always. Now all I’m saying is “I’ll Help You” as I carry him around the house. I’m watching my son die… Will “B” Seeing You

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Gospel 213 ~Will “B” Seeing You~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would give it all up to save him. My Dæmon, my Imp, My Prince, My Firstborn Son, little B. Some things there are no words for. I’ve listened to the vets. I have read and studied what I can in this short time, looking for answers. Not one thing helps. What I can do is watch, wait, and be willing. It’s why I’m crying now as I can’t stand to look at him like this, but I’ll be damned if I turn away. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it now “Always and Forever.” I’ve said these four words twice “My Dog Is Dying.”

It’s called Renal Failure (Kidney Failure or Disease). Excuse my ignorance on the subject, but the toxins are filling up in his body. Without his kidneys, he can no longer filter out the bad stuff. It also means he doesn’t want to take the basics, like food and water. “I’ll help you” seems as worthless as if I’d written it down. It’s actions, always actions. I carry him to the bathroom. Sometimes I’ll put him in front of his bowls and beg for him to take something, anything. I let him outside, and he tries, but there’s nothing left. Banfield is trying. I swear if I didn’t think so, I’d go all “John Q,” but what can they do now? “Not yet,” I keep repeating to myself, NOT YET. If I could give my life for his, there wouldn’t even be a question. He’s my child, and my best friend.

“Sleep,” I say, petting him again and again, holding him, keeping him next to me as I write this. Well, in-between the crying fits and Youtube. You have to let go and let God. Accept it, brother. That’s what the dude said in John Q. B sleeping, euthanasia writing The End. The Rainbow Bridge… I’ve been reading up on that too. I can’t imagine Heaven; I never planned on seeing it but for my son? I want to be where he is. He struggles to live because he still sees me. If I could tell him there was such a place if I knew I could follow? “Daddy” has never left his mouth, but that’s what I am to him. The two of us, Father and son, it’s always been.

And every minute that passes by… Will “B” Seeing You

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

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Facebook was closed for a minute. Well, more like I got logged off, and then I found out why. Seems like many places have been closing or under scrutiny. Now here I am, open book and all being driven crazy by paranoia. Willing The Days Away, hmm

Saturday, January 23, 2021

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many days have I given away to get here. As “The 13th Warrior” put it, “I have squandered my days with plans of many things.” Around this time last week, I had no idea the storm that I’d unleashed because I look at myself as a bad man, okay. I have my vices like anyone else, though one has been tempered somewhat with “events.” My usual anger, my fire has been snuffed by my depression. It’s like I’m drowning. Now that leads me to a third sin… I’m breathing.

That’s dark, and of course, you’re not Inspector Echo. I’m all into time-travel, not that it makes much difference nowadays. It’s not that I’m living in the present. The past is only full of regret and the future, to quote another movie “John Q” well “There’s only two ways out of here. Jail or dead.” Not the most appealing options, I must say Lady Luna. What are the chances, though, and in keeping with the movies “The Empire Strikes Back,” there’s this? “Never tell me the odds.” I would say I’m getting lazier… breathing’s difficult. Damn, it feels closer to impossible. You want to hear something really STUPID? It could all be for nothing. Every day I read up on other criminals, and I think about “All These Things That I’ve Done.” I opened my eyes, that’s it. My Lady, I opened my fucking eyes.

“Oh god, I’d rather you were blind” that’s from A Knight’s Tale or maybe my Dæmon. Okay, that’s mean, he would never wish me harm. Yet I’m hurting him by wishing it upon myself now. Living each day hoping that I will actually scare myself to death and find peace. It almost worked last night when Facebook was all wonky. Only this morning, I found out Facebook itself had been hacked and flooded with…I wish I could go back to free speech and all. In some ways, I believed it would be a closed fist that would be my end. Nope, I opened my eyes, and where did that land me? What am I doing every morning? I say I’m an open book with a mind to match, and what do I find waiting. My hands are, you guessed it, wide open, and then what?

I’m still free for now, only Willing The Days Away.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 010 ~Will’s In The Sky~

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The hands of the clock keep spinning, sun up and sundown. My head is in a fog because it’s after midnight. Now how many people are reading this, and how many are reading my story? “Will’s In The Sky.”

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Gospel 010 ~Will’s In The Sky~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the sky’s the limit. Well, you know me, I could go into a load of pop culture references. I could say I’m already building the Death Star. How about something to the tune of Gattaca, how badly I want to leave this planet? Am I becoming suicidal again? Hell Lady Lu, if I could end it all is a question I ask each night, but I’m not dying. Of course, I could always talk about some girl’s Yabbos, which is why I wasn’t so successful as I wanted to be today. I could keep working through the night, but Will I Lose My Dignity.

“When you’re white, the sky’s the limit. When you’re black, the limit’s the sky.” Chris Rock Bigger & Blacker (1999)

Forgive me, Lady Luna. I’m still trying to appear more coherent. Call it a lack of sleep, my hatred of spending cash, and yeah, I’m hungry. I have a thousand dollars in the next room, and I’m upset about my $9.00 sneakers getting wet. So that brings me to accomplishments today. I did walk My Dæmon this morning. On this very evening, I meant to type 4600 words but only got around to 2200. It’s my highest word count so far this month of camp. NaNoWriMo isn’t asking for any more tonight. Lady Lu, I even did some reading too. I may finish Too Late by Colleen Hoover tomorrow. Should I say today, considering what time it is? The fact is I’m rolling. I’m doing something constructive, to say the least. Oh, how about the saddest battle now, NO FAP.

Sad to say, I’m thinking about MILF Dos, Cherry, and her Mum. It’s in the context of my story, and I’m starting Chapter Four, “Like A Moth He Came.” Yes, you know I am always one to spin a title. Even with the Coronavirus (COVID-19), I’m trying to be creative instead of worried. I went to Church’s Chicken today, and none of them were wearing masks. My “father” got tested, but my little sister was in quarantine. Stop hitting yourself, Nelson Muntz would say. How about I stop repeating myself. For example, writing stories that are never going to go anywhere. Starting NO FAP because I’m disgusted being the nice guy wanting to see Yabbos and do I. Um yeah…

Have I gotten through this conversation without heading to you know where dear Lady Lu?

Giving myself more problems other than addiction, and they’re pretty high, Will’s In The Sky.

I Will Have No Fear